White Witch, Black Curse

I didn't shift my eyes from him, but it was hard not to look at Ivy, who had turned with that beefsteak swathed in a towel, a smile quirking her lips. "Yeah, a nice and quiet night," I said, hoping he didn't see my spell books. Fingers slow, I folded the paper up and set it deliberately on top of them.

Ivy turned her back on us, but I think she was still smiling as she continued washing the tomatoes, setting them to dry one by one.

"Well, I gotta go," Glenn said, dusting his hands and looking at the leftover pizza. "Thanks, ladies. Don't let my dad get to you. He really wants to nail this woman and doesn't realize what he's asking of you."

"No problem." Now I felt guilty, and I stood up, handing him the pizza box. His eyes lit up as he took it, but I wished he'd get out of here. I had to prep for tonight. Sure, I had agreed not to circle Al, but there were other ways to catch a demon, and I wondered if turning him into a mouse would work. I knew I could do that one. "Have a great New Year's, Glenn."

The FIB detective smiled. "You, too." He picked up one of the clean tomatoes and tucked it in his pocket. Winking, he said, "Don't tell my dad about the tomatoes, okay?"

"I'll take it to my grave." Which might be as soon as tonight…

Ivy turned from folding up the grocery bag and sliding it under the sink. "Glenn, are you headed in to work?" she asked, and he hesitated.

"Ye-e-es," he hedged. "You want a ride?"

"I have a few words of wisdom for Edden about that little bitch of a banshee," she said, grimacing, then added, looking at me, "Unless you need me to stick around?"

Jenks's wings clattered in agitation, and mystified, I glanced at my spell books. "I'm just going to play with my junior cook books," I said, and then worried that guilt might make her try to face Mia alone, I added, "You'll be back before the ball drops, right?"

The rim of brown around her eyes shrank slightly. "You know it. I'll get my coat," she said, and turning, she strode out of the kitchen, moving with that eerie grace.

From the paper, Jenks muttered, "Need her to stick around? Who does she think she is?"

"I heard that!" Ivy shouted from the sanctuary, and there was a squeal of pixies.

Glenn was moving to the door. "Take care of yourself, Rachel," he said, and I angled for a hug, my bad mood squeezed out by the big man who now smelled like pizza.

"You, too," I said, my smile fading as I became serious and rocked back. "Glenn, I want to get this woman, but it needs some solid planning."

"You don't need to tell me twice."

He turned to follow Ivy, and I touched his sleeve, stopping him. "Hey, if you see Ford today, will you tell him I'm ready to make an appointment?"

A smile holding what looked like pride came over him. "I will. Good for you, Rachel."

"Glenn?" came from the sanctuary, and he rolled his eyes.

"Coming, Mother," he called, and headed out, pizza box in hand. I heard his feet in the hall, a chorus of tiny good-byes, and the door closing. Content, I slid the pancake mix away.

Jenks sat on the rim of the coffeemaker, his wings fanning in the rising warmth. "You might want to get dressed if you're going to fight demons today," he said, and I looked at him from around my sleep-stringy hair.

"Will you watch the door while I shower?" I asked, and he buzzed his wings.

"Duh."

The pixies were loud, playing with the cherry tomatoes as I shuffled into my bathroom to get the water going. I was looking forward to a long soak, and I blissfully lost myself in lather, rinse, and repeat. Eyes closed, I stood under the hot water and breathed in the steam, reluctant to get out and get back to my life. I'd spent four years using a crappy, low-volume shower thanks to Mrs. Talbu, and the high-output, energy-inefficient head that Ivy had installed even before I'd moved in was better than therapy. Not that I needed therapy. Na-a-a-ah. Not me.

The spray suddenly went cold, and gasping, I pushed from the wall, making my back smack the one behind me. "Jenks!" I shouted in a burst of adrenaline. "Knock it off!"

The water hitting my feet grew warm, but my mood had soured and I got out and reached for my towel. My motions were rough as I dried my hair and worked my way down. Apparently Jenks thought I was clean enough. Wrapped in a towel, I swiped at the mirror to take stock. Not too bad, I decided, apart from lingering circles under my eyes. Not too bad at all for having been bitch-slapped by a banshee twice in as many days.

From outside the door came the clatter of pixy wings and a hesitant "Rachel?"

My towel slipped as I rummaged for a complexion spell. "Very funny, Jenks. I could have slipped and cracked my head open." The humming of wings grew louder, and I snatched my towel higher. "Jenks!" I exclaimed as he darted under the door. "I didn't say to come in!"

His wings a bright red, Jenks turned his back on me. "Sorry. Uh, I thought you ought to know Marshal is here," he said apologetically.