Every Which Way But Dead

"Coming!" I called out, my pace quickening as I strode through the dusky sanctuary to the door, my snow boots thumping to leave small inverse divots of snow behind. The huge dinner bell that was our doorbell clanked again, and I picked up the pace. "I'm coming. Don't ring the bell again or the neighbors will call the I.S., for God's sake."



The reverberations were still echoing when I reached for the handle, the nylon of my coat making a sliding sound. My nose was cold and my fingers were frozen, the warmth of the church not having had enough time to warm them up. "David!" I exclaimed, opening the door to find him on the softly lit stoop.



"Hi, Rachel," he said, looking comfortably attractive with his glasses, long coat, thick stubble, and his cowboy hat dusted with snow. The bottle of wine in his hand helped. An older man stood beside him in a leather jacket and jeans. He was taller than David, and I eyed his lightly wrinkled but trim physique in question. A wisp of snow-white hair peeped from under his hat. There was a twig in his grip, unquestionably a symbolic offering for the solstice bonfire out back, and I realized he was a witch. David's old partner? I thought. A limo idled softly behind them, but I was guessing they had come in the blue four-door parked in front of it.



"Rachel," David said, drawing my gaze back to them. "This is Howard, my old partner."



"Pleased to meet you, Howard," I said, extending my hand.



"The pleasure is mine." Smiling, he slipped off a glove to extend a softly wrinkled, freckled hand. "David told me all about you, and I invited myself. I hope you don't mind."



"Not at all," I said earnestly. "The more, the merrier."



Howard pumped my hand up and down three times before releasing it. "I had to come," he said, green eyes glinting. "The chance to meet the woman who can outrun David and put up with his working style doesn't come along very often. You two did good with Saladan."



His voice was deeper than I expected, and the feeling of being evaluated strengthened. "Thank you," I said, mildly embarrassed. I shifted back from the doorway in invitation. "We're all back by the fire. Come on in. It's easier to go through the church than stumble through the garden the back way."



Howard slipped inside in a whiff of redwood while David knocked the snow from his boots. He hesitated, looking up at the new sign above the door. "Nice," he said. "Just get it?"



"Yeah." Mood going soft, I leaned out to look up at it. The deeply engraved brass plaque had been bolted to the front of the church above the door. It had come with a light, and the single bulb lit the stoop in a soft glow. "It's a solstice gift for Ivy and Jenks."



David made a sound of approval laced with understanding. I flicked my attention from him back to the sign. VAMPIRE CHARMS; LLC. TAMWOOD, JENKS, AND MORGAN. I loved it, and I hadn't minded paying extra to make it a rush order. Ivy's eyes had gotten very wide when I pulled her out on the stoop that afternoon to see it. I thought she was going to cry. I'd given her a hug right there on the landing as it was obvious she wanted to give me one but was afraid I'd take it the wrong way. She was my friend, damn it. I could hug her if I wanted.



"I'm hoping it helps stop the rumors about me being dead," I said, ushering him in. "The paper was really quick to print my obituary, but because I'm not a vamp, they won't put anything in the risen-again announcements unless I pay for it."



"Imagine that," David said. I could hear the laughter in his voice, and I gave him a dry look as he stomped his boots a final time and came in. "You look good for a dead witch."



"Thanks."



"Your hair is almost back to normal. How about the rest of you?"



I shut the door, flattered at the sound of concern in his voice. Howard stood in the middle of the sanctuary, his eyes ranging over Ivy's piano and my desk. "I'm doing okay," I said. "My stamina is shot, but it's coming back. My hair, though?" I tucked a curl of reddish-brown hair behind an ear and the soft knit hat my mother had given me that afternoon. "The box said it washes out in five shampoos," I said sourly. "I'm still waiting."



Somewhat peeved at the reminder of my hair, I led the way into the kitchen, the two men trailing behind. Actually, my hair was the least of my worries. Yesterday I had found a scar with a familiar circle-and-slash pattern on the arch of my left foot; Newt's claim of a favor. I owed two demons, but I was alive. I was alive and was no one's familiar. And finding the mark there had been better than waking up with a big N tattooed on my forehead.



David's steps faltered as he saw the plates of goodies laid out on the table. Ivy's workspace had been pushed into a three-by-three-foot section, the rest was full of cookies, fudge, cold cuts, and crackers. "Help yourself," I said, refusing to get worked up about things currently out of my control. "Do you want to nuke your wine before we go out?" I asked, eating a slice of salami. "I've got a pitcher to warm it up in." I could use my new charm, but it wasn't reliable, and I was tired of burning my tongue.



The clunk of the wine as it hit the table was loud. "You drink it warm?" David said, sounding appalled as he looked at the microwave.



"Ivy and Kisten do." Seeing the Were hesitate, I gave the pot of spiced cider on the stove a quick stir. "We can warm up half and put the rest in a snow bank if you want," I added.



"Sure," David said, his short fingers manipulating the foil-wrapped top.



Howard began filling a plate, but at David's pointed look, he started. "Mmmm!" the older witch said abruptly, plate in hand. "Mind if I go out back and introduce myself?" He wiggled the twig sandwiched between his hand and the foam plate in explanation. "I haven't been to a solstice burning in a long time."



A smile came over me. "Go right on out. The door is through the living room."



David and Howard exchanged another look, and the witch found his way. I heard a soft rise of voices in greeting as he opened the door. David exhaled slowly. Something was up.



"Rachel," he said. "I've got a paper for you to sign."



My smile froze. "What did I do?" I blurted. "Was it breaking Lee's car?"



"No," he said, and my chest tightened when his eyes dropped. Oh God. It must be bad.



"What is it?" I set the spoon in the sink and turned, gripping my elbows.



David unzipped his coat and pulled out a trifolded paper and handed it to me. Taking his bottle, he started to open it. "You don't have to sign it if you don't want to," he said, glancing at me from under his cowboy hat. "I won't be offended. Really. You can say no. It's okay."



I went cold, then hot, as I read the simply worded statement, wonder in me as I looked up and met his anxious eyes. "You want me to be a member of your pack?" I stammered.



"I don't have one," he rushed to explain. "You'd be the only one in it. I'm a registered loner but my company won't fire someone with tenure if they're an alpha male or female."



I could say nothing and he rushed to fill the silence.



"I, uh, feel bad for trying to bribe you," he said. "It's not like we're married or anything, but it gives you the right to get your insurance through me. And if either of us is hospitalized, we have access to the medical records and have a say as to what happens if the other is unconscious. I don't have anyone to make those kind of decisions for me, and I'd rather have you than a court or my siblings." He shrugged with one shoulder. "You can come to the company picnic, too."



My gaze fell to the paper, then rose to his stubbled face, then back to the paper. "What about your old partner?"



He peeked over the paper to look at the print. "It takes a female to make a pack."



"Oh." I stared at the form. "Why me?" I asked, honored he'd ask but bewildered. "There must be lots of Were women who would jump at the chance."



"There are. And that's just it." Dropping back, he rested against the island counter. "I don't want a pack. Too much responsibility. Too many ties. Packs grow. And even if I went into this with another Were with the understanding that it was an agreement on paper and nothing else, she would expect certain things, and so would her kin." He looked at the ceiling, his eyes showing his age. "And when those things weren't provided, they would start to treat her like a whore instead of an alpha bitch. I won't have that problem with you." He met my eyes. "Will I?"



I blinked, starting slightly. "Ah, no." A smile quirked the corner of my mouth. Alpha bitch? That sounded about right. "Gotta pen?" I asked.



David exhaled with a soft puff, relief in his eyes. "We need three witnesses."



I couldn't stop grinning. Wait until I told Ivy. She'd have kittens.



We both spun to the window as a whoosh of flame and a shout rose high. Ivy threw a second bough of evergreen on the bonfire, and the fire billowed up again. She was taking to my family's tradition of a solstice fire with an unsettling enthusiasm.



"I can think of three people off the top of my head," I said, jamming it into a back pocket.



David nodded. "We don't have to do it tonight. But the fiscal year is coming up, and we'll want to file it before then so you can start your benefits and get a line in the new catalog."



I was on tiptoe to reach a pitcher for the wine, and David reached up and got it for me. "There's a catalog?" I asked as I dropped to my heels.



His eyes were wide. "You want to remain anonymous? That costs extra, but okay."



I shrugged, not knowing. "What's everyone going to say when you show up at the company picnic with me?"



David poured half the wine into the pitcher and set it to heat in the microwave. "Nothing. They all think I'm rabid anyway."



The smile wouldn't leave me as I ladled out a mug of spiced cider. His motive might be slanted - wanting the extra security for his job - but we would both benefit. So it was with a much improved mood that we headed for the back door, his warmed wine and half-empty bottle in his hands, and my spiced cider in mine. The heat of the church had taken the chill from me, and I led the way into the living room.



David's steps slowed while he took in the softly glowing room. Ivy and I had decorated, and purple, red, gold, and green were everywhere. Her leather stocking had looked lonely on the mantel, so I had bought a red and green knit one with a bell on the toe, embracing any holiday that got me presents. Ivy had even hung a little white stocking for Jenks that she had taken from her sister's doll collection, but the jar of honey wouldn't come close to fitting in it.



Ivy's Christmas tree glowed in the corner, looking ethereal. I'd never had one before, and I felt honored she had let me help her decorate it with tissue-paper-wrapped ornaments. We had made a night of it as we listened to music and ate the popcorn that never made it onto a string.



There were only two things under it: one for me, one for Ivy, both from Jenks. He was gone, but his presents to us had been left behind in opposite bedrooms.



I reached for the handle of the new door, a lump in my throat. We had opened them already - neither one of us were good at waiting. Ivy had sat and stared at the Bite-me-Betty doll, her jaw clenched and her breathing almost nonexistent. I hadn't been much better, all but crying upon finding the pair of cell phones in their foam box. One was for me, the other, much smaller one, was for Jenks. According to the receipt still in the box, he had activated it last month and even put himself on speed dial on mine.



Yanking open the door, I held it for David, my jaw clenched. I'd get him to come back. If I had to hire a pilot to write my apology in the sky, I would get him to come back.



"David," I said as he passed. "If I give you something, will you take it to Jenks?"



He glanced at me from the first step down. "Maybe," he said warily.



I grimaced. "It's just some seeds. I couldn't find anything in my language of flowers book that said, 'I'm sorry. I'm an ass,' so I went with forget-me-nots."



"Okay," he said, sounding more sure. "I can do that."



"Thanks." It was a whisper, but I was sure he heard me over the calls at his arrival.



I took the heated wine from David and placed it near the fire. Howard looked content talking to Keasley and Ceri, sneaking unsure glances at Takata lurking in the more-certain shadows of the oak tree. "Come on over," I said to David as Kisten tried to get his attention. Ivy's sister was prattling next to him, and he looked exhausted. "I want you to meet Takata."



The midnight air was crisp, almost painfully dry, and I smiled at Ivy when I saw her trying to explain to Ceri the art of making a s'more. The puzzled elf didn't understand how layering chocolate between a sugary grain product and spun confection could possibly taste good. Her words, not mine. I was sure her opinion would change after she ate one.



I felt Kisten's eyes on me from around the lowering flames and I stifled a shiver. The come-and-go light played on his face, not unattractively thinner after his stint in the hospital. My thoughts of Nick had waned to a soft ache under the living vamp's attentions. Kist was here, and Nick wasn't. The reality was, Nick hadn't truly been here for months. He hadn't called or sent a solstice card, and he had intentionally left no way for me to reach him. It was time to move on.



Takata shifted his perch atop the picnic table in case we wanted to sit. The concert earlier tonight had gone off without a hitch, and since Lee wasn't around, Ivy and I watched from backstage. Takata had dedicated "Red Ribbons" to our firm, and half the crowd had waved their lighters in tribute thinking I was still dead.



I had only been joking when I invited him to my bonfire, but I was glad he came. He seemed to relish that no one was fawning over him as he sat contentedly in the background. I recognized that distant look on his lined face from when Ivy was planning a run, and wondered if his next album might have a song about sparks among the frost-blackened arms of an oak.



"Takata," I said as we approached, and he came back to himself. "I'd like you to meet David Hue. He's the insurance adjustor who helped me get to Saladan."



"David," Takata said, taking off his glove before extending his thin long hand. "Nice to meet you. It looks like you escaped unscathed from Rachel's latest run."



David smiled warmly without showing his teeth. "Pretty much," he said as he released his hand and rocked back a step. "Though I wasn't sure when those handguns showed up." Making a mock shudder, he shifted so his front would be warmed by the flames. "Too much for me," he said softly.



I was glad he wasn't wide-eyed and stammering, or squealing and jumping up and down like Erica had done until Kisten collared her and dragged her away.



"David!" Kisten called when my thoughts pulled my eyes to him. "Can I talk to you about my boat? How much do you think it would cost to insure her through you?"



A sound of pain slipped from David. "The price of being in insurance," he said softly.



My eyebrows rose. "I think he just wants to get someone between him and Erica. The girl does not shut up."



David pushed himself into motion. "You won't leave me alone too long will you?"



I grinned. "Is that one of my responsibilities as a member of your pack?" I said, and Takata's eyes widened.



"As a matter of fact, it is." Raising his hand to Kisten, he ambled to him, stopping to nudge a log back into the flames with the toe of his boot as he went. Howard was laughing at him from across the fire, his green eyes glinting.



I looked to find Takata's thick eyebrows high. "Member of his pack?" he questioned.



Nodding, I sat beside Takata on top of the picnic table. "For insurance purposes." Setting my spiced cider down, I put my elbows on my knees and sighed. I loved the solstice, and not just for the food and parties. Cincinnati dropped all of its lights from midnight until sunrise, and it was the only time I ever saw the night sky as it was supposed to be. Anyone thieving during the blackout was dealt with hard, curtailing any problems.



"How are you doing?" Takata said, surprising me. I had almost forgotten he was there. "I heard you were hospitalized."



I smiled sheepishly, knowing I was starting to look tired after screaming for two-plus hours at Takata's concert. "I'm okay. They weren't ready to release me, but Kisten was just down the hall, and after they caught us, ah, experimenting with the controls for the bed, they decided we both were well enough to be on the streets." Crabby old night nurse. By the amount of fuss she made, one would have thought we were committing some kind of kinky - well, crabby old night nurse, anyway.



Takata eyed me as I flushed and pulled my knit hat down lower over my ears. "There's a limo out front," I said to change the subject. "Want me to tell them to go away?"



His gaze went up into the black branches. "They can wait. They have food in there."



Nodding, I relaxed. "You want some warm wine?"



He started, his wide eyes looking shocked. "No. No thanks."



"More spiced cider, then?" I offered. "Here. I haven't had any of mine."



"Just put a swallow in there," he said, extending his empty cup, and I poured half of my drink into his. I felt kinda special, sitting next to Takata with half my drink in his mug, but I stiffened as a faint twang reverted through me. I froze, not knowing what it was, and Takata's eyes met mine.



"You felt it too?" he said, and I nodded, feeling uneasy and a little worried.



"What was it?"



Takata's wide mouth turned into a huge smile as he laughed at me. "The circle at Fountain Square. Happy Solstice." He raised his cup, and I automatically touched mine to it.



"Happy Solstice," I echoed, thinking it odd that I had felt it. I never had before. But then, maybe having closed it myself once made me sensitive to it.



Feeling as if all was right with the world, I sipped my cider, finding David's eyes pleading with me over the rim of my mug. Erica's mouth was going nonstop, and Kisten was gripping his shoulder, trying to have a conversation around her. "Excuse me," I said as I slid from the table. "David needs rescuing."



Takata chuckled, and I made my unhurried way past the fire. Though he never stopped talking to David, Kisten's eyes were on me, and I felt a warm spot start in my middle.



"Erica," I said, coming even with them. "Takata wants to play a song for you."



Takata jerked upright, giving me a panicked look when the young woman squealed. Both Kisten and David slumped in relief as she darted around the fire to him. "Thank God," Kisten whispered, and I sat down in her spot. "That girl never shuts up."



Snorting, I eased closer, pushing into his thigh, hinting. He curved an arm around me, as I wanted, pulling me close. Kisten exhaled softly, and a shiver rippled over me. I knew he felt it when my scar started tingling. "Stop it," I whispered, embarrassed, and his grip tightened.



"I can't help it," he said on an intake of breath. "When is everyone going to be leaving?"



"Sunup," I said, setting my drink down. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."



"It's not my heart that misses you," he breathed, and a second shiver passed through me.



"So," Kisten said loudly when David started to look uncomfortable. "Rachel tells me you asked her to be your absent partner so you could get two salaries and she could get a good rate on her insurance."



"Ah, yes..." David stammered, looking down so his hat hid his eyes. "About that..."



I jumped as Kisten's cold hand worked its way under my coat and touched the skin at my waist. "I like that," he murmured, not talking about how his fingers were tracing small circles to warm my middle. "Inventive. My kind of man."



David's head came up. "Would you excuse me," he muttered, sending a quick hand to fiddle with his glasses. "I haven't said hello to Ceri and Keasley yet."



I chuckled, and Kisten pulled me closer. "You do that, Mr. Peabody," Kisten said.



The short Were jerked to a stop, gave him a warning frown, then continued, stopping to get a glass of his wine on the way.



My smile slowly faded. The scent of leather became obvious, mixing with the hard aroma of burning ash, and I snuggled closer into Kisten. "Hey," I said softly, my gaze fixed on the fire. "David wants me to sign a paper. Make me part of his pack."



His breath caught. "You're kidding," he said, pushing me away so he could focus on me. His blue eyes were wide and his face surprised and wondering.



Looking at my cold fingers, I slipped them into his. "I'd like you to witness it."



"Oh." His gaze went to the fire and he shifted his arm to lean a smidgen away.



I grinned in understanding and laughed. "No, you idiot," I said, pushing on his arm. "It's a pack membership, not an interspecies bond. I'm not marrying the guy, for the Turn's sake. It's only a legal agreement so I can get my insurance through him and his company won't fire him. He'd ask a Were woman, but he doesn't want a pack, and that's what he'd get if he asked one."



Kisten exhaled long and slow, and I could feel the softness return to his grip. "Good," he said, pulling me closer. " 'Cause you're my alpha bitch, babe, and no one else's."



I gave him a telling look, which was hard to do seeing as I was almost in his lap. "Babe?" I said dryly. "You know what I did to the last guy who called me that?"



Kisten jerked me closer. "Maybe later, love," he whispered to start a delicious tingle in me. "We don't want to shock your friends," he added, and I followed his gaze to where Howard and Keasley were laughing while Ceri tried to eat her s'more without getting messy.



"Will you witness the paper for me?" I asked.



"Sure." His grip around me tightened. "I think making ties is a good thing." His arm slipped from me, and I followed his gaze to see Ivy glaring at us. "Ivy might not, though."



Suddenly concerned, I pulled away. Ivy got to her feet, and with steps quick and long, she strode up the porch steps and into the church. The back door shut hard enough to make the wreath fall off.



Not noticing, Erica sprang into a flurry of motion to move a bench closer to the fire. The conversation grew excited, and Keasley and Ceri drifted over when Takata finally pulled out the guitar he brought with him but had been ignoring. He settled himself, long fingers moving slowly from the cold as he strummed. It was nice. Really nice. The only thing missing was Jenks's wiseass remarks and a sprinkling of pixy dust.



I sighed, and Kisten's lips brushed my ear. "You'll get him back," he breathed.



Surprised he knew where my thoughts were, I said, "Are you sure?"



I felt him nod. "Come springtime and he can get out again, he'll be back. He thinks too much of you to not listen once his pride starts to heal. But I know all about big egos, Rachel. You're going to have to grovel."



"I can do that," I said in a small voice.



"He thinks it's his fault," Kisten continued.



"I'll convince him otherwise."



His breath was a puff behind my ear. "That's my girl."



I smiled at the stirring of feelings he was instilling in me. My gaze went to the shadow of Ivy in the kitchen, then back to the impromptu music. One down. Two more to go. And they were likely going to be the hardest ones. It wasn't as if I could ask Ceri or Keasley. There was a spot on that form for a Social Security number. Ceri didn't have one, and I knew without asking Keasley wouldn't want to put his down. I had a suspicion by the lack of government checks that he was playing dead.



"Could you excuse me?" I murmured as Ivy's shadow behind the glass was eclipsed by a swirl of mist from the hot water she was running into the sink. Kisten's hold loosened. Takata's blue eyes met mine before I turned away, an unknown emotion in them.



I paused to put the cedar wreath back on its hook before I went in. The warmth of the church hit me, and I took my hat off and tossed it to the black hearth. I entered the kitchen to find Ivy leaning against the counter, her head down and her hands gripping her elbows.



"Hi," I said, hesitating in the threshold.



"Let me see the contract," she said, extending her hand and her head coming up.



My lips parted. "How did..." I stammered.



A faint, sour smile crossed her and was gone. "Sound carries well over flame."



Embarrassed, I pulled it out of my pocket, feeling it both cold from the night and warm from my body. She took it, her brow furrowed. Turning her back on me, she unfolded it. I fidgeted. "Um, I need three witnesses," I said. "I'd like you to be one of them."



"Why?"



She didn't turn around and her shoulders were tense. "David doesn't have a pack," I said. "It's harder to fire him if he does. He gets to keep his job working solo, and I can get my insurance through him. It's only two hundred a month, Ivy. He's not looking for anything more than that or he would have asked a Were woman."



"I know. My question is why do you want my signature?" Paper in hand, she turned, the empty look on her face making me uncomfortable. "Why is it important to you that I sign it?"



I opened my mouth, then shut it. My thoughts touched on what Newt had said. Home hadn't been a strong enough pull, but Ivy was. "Because you're my partner," I said, warming. "Because what I do affects you."



Ivy silently plucked a pen from her pencil cup and clicked it open. I suddenly felt awkward, realizing that David's little paper granted him something she wanted: a recognizable connection with me.



"I did a background check on him when you were in the hospital," she said. "He's not hooking up with you to help him out with a preexisting problem."



My eyebrows rose. I hadn't thought about that. "He said this was a no-strings-attached affair." I hesitated. "Ivy, I live with you," I said, trying to reassure her that our friendship didn't need a paper or signature to be real, and both our names were above the door. Both of them.



She was silent, her face empty of emotion, her brown eyes still. "You trust him?"



I nodded. I had to go with my gut feeling here.



The barest smile appeared on her. "Me too." Pushing a plate of cookies aside, she wrote her name on the first line in a careful but almost illegible signature.



"Thanks," I said, and she handed it back. My gaze went past her as the back door opened. Ivy looked up, and I recognized a softening in her gaze when Kisten's familiar footsteps thumped on the rug beside the door, knocking off the snow. He came into the kitchen, David on his heels.



"Are we signing the paper or not?" Kisten said, the tension in his voice telling me he was ready to argue with Ivy if she was balking.



Ivy clicked her pen open and shut so fast that it hummed. "I already did. Your turn."



He squared his shoulders, grinning as he took the pen when she extended it, adding his masculine signature under hers. His Social Security number was next, and he handed the pen to David.



David edged between them, looking small beside their tall grace. I could see his relief as he wrote his full name. My pulse increased and I took the pen, pulling the paper closer.



"So," Kisten said when I signed it. "Who are you going to ask to be the third witness?"



"Jenks," Ivy and I said together, and I looked up. Our eyes met and I clicked the pen closed.



"Will you ask him for me?" I said to David.



The Were picked up the paper, carefully folding it and tucking it away in an inner coat pocket. "You don't want to ask someone else? He might not."



I glanced at Ivy and straightened, tucking a curl of hair behind my ear. "He's a member of this firm," I said. "If he wants to spend the winter sulking in a Were's basement, that's fine with me, but he had better get his little pixy butt back here when the weather breaks or I'm going to be royally pissed." I took a deep breath, adding, "And maybe this will convince him he's a valued member of the team and that I'm sorry."



Kisten took a shuffling step back.



"I'll ask him," David said.



The back door opened and Erica tumbled in, her cheeks red and her eyes snapping. "Hey! Come on! He's ready to play! God save you, he's warmed up and ready to play, and you're inside eating? Get your asses out here!"



Ivy's attention went from the snow she had tracked in to my eyes. David lurched into motion, pushing the flighty goth vamp out before him. Kisten followed, the noise of their conversation heady with the sound of companionship. Takata's music rose, and my eyes widened when Ceri's ethereal voice was set to a carol older than even she. She indeed sang in Latin. My eyebrows rose and I looked at Ivy.



Ivy zipped her coat up and got her mittens from the counter. "You really okay with this?" I asked her.



She nodded. "Asking Jenks to sign that paper might be the only way to hammer it into his thick skull that we need him."



I made a face and went before her as I tried to come up with a way to convey to Jenks how wrong I had been to not trust him. I had slipped Algaliarept's snare, managing to not only get rid of one of my demon marks but also break my familiar bond with Nick, too - not that it mattered now. I had gone out on a date with the city's most powerful bachelor and had breakfast with him. I had rescued a thousand-yearold elf, learned how to be my own familiar, and discovered I could throw a mean craps game. Not to mention I found you could have sex with a vampire and not get bitten. Why did I have the feeling that getting Jenks to talk to me was going to be harder than all that put together?



"We'll get him back," Ivy murmured behind me. "We will get him back."



Thumping down the snow-covered stairs and going into the music and star-filled night, I swore we would.