White Witch, Black Curse

"Oh yeah. She'll be fine. It's Tom I'm worried about." My stomach hurt. Damn it, it had been ages since anyone had dared to violate the security of my home, and now that it was over, I didn't like it. Grimacing, I stirred the soup, nervous energy making me slop it over. Jenks was flitting like a mad thing, and while wiping up my spill, I muttered, "Park it, Jenks."

The kitchen grew quiet apart from the rasp of Marshal taking off his coat, but it was the gurgle of him pouring two cups of coffee that brought my attention back. I managed a thin smile when he brought me one. Jenks was on his shoulder, which was unusual, but the man had saved us a lot of trouble, and Jenks had to appreciate that since he couldn't go outside and Bis was just one gargoyle—and a young, inexperienced one at that.

"Thanks," I said, turning from the soup and taking a sip of coffee as I leaned against the counter. "For Tom as well as the coffee," I added.

Looking satisfied and smug, Marshal pulled a chair around and sat with his back to the wall and his legs in the middle of the room. "Not a problem, Rachel. I'm glad I was here."

Trailing a thin green dust, Jenks flew to land beside me, pretending to feed his brine shrimp on the sill. I knew Marshal thought my estimation of the danger I could attract was overrated, but even I'd admit that his catching a shunned ley line witch was impressive.

I breathed deep as I listened to the pixy play-by-play, filtering in from the sanctuary, of what Ivy was doing to Tom. The subtly masculine-flavored scent of redwood eased about me, a witch's characteristic smell. It was nice smelling it in my kitchen, mixing with vampire and the light garden scent I was starting to recognize as pixy. Marshal was eyeing the ceiling in an expectant way, and chuckling, I went to sit with him.

"All right," I said as I touched his hand encircling his coffee. "I admit it. You saved me. You saved me from whatever Tom had planned. You're my great big freaking hero, okay?"

He laughed at that, and it felt good. "You want that box from my car?" he said, starting to gather himself to stand.

I thought about what was in it, and froze. "No. Will you throw it out for me?" I'm not throwing Kisten away, I thought guiltily. But to keep his last gift in my bottom drawer was pathetic. "Uh, thanks again for going with me out to the boat."

Marshal shifted his chair, angling it to face me. "No problem. Is your FIB friend okay?"

I nodded, my thoughts drifting to Glenn. "Ford says he'll be awake in a few days."

Jenks had gotten himself a pixy-size mug of coffee from the still-dripping machine, and he settled between us on the box of crackers. He was unusually quiet, but he was probably keeping an ear on his kids. There was a sound of rising awe from the sanctuary when Ivy did something, and I winced.

My eyes went to the corner of the envelope, and in a sudden surge of irritation, I picked it out. "Hey, will you do something for me?" I asked as I handed it to Marshal. "I'm trying to pay for some classes, and I need to get this to the registrar's office, like yesterday."

"I thought registration ended," Jenks piped up, and Marshal's eyebrows went high as he took it.

"It did," he said, and I shrugged.

"They sent my check back," I complained. "Can you see if they will take it? Use your connections to get it in the system? I don't want to have to pay the late fee."

Nodding, he folded the envelope over and slid it into a back pocket to look at later. Brow furrowed, he leaned back in his chair, thinking. "You want some soup?" I asked, and Marshal smiled.

"No, thanks," he said, then his eyes brightened. "Hey, I've got tomorrow off. It's a teacher workday at the university, but it's not like I've got any papers to grade. You want to go do something? Blow off some steam? After I get your check in, that is? I hear they opened up a new skate park on Vine."

Whereas two months ago the offer would have tripped all my warning flags, now my lips curled up in a smile. Marshal wasn't my boyfriend, but we did stuff together all the time. "I don't think I can," I said, annoyed that I couldn't say yes and go. "I've got this murder I'm working on…and my sign to clean…"

Jenks's wings clattered. "I said I'd help you with that, Rache," he said brightly, and I smiled and curved my hand around him.

"It's too cold, Jenks," I protested, then turned back to Marshal. "Then I've got to pick up my brother at the airport at three, talk to Ford at six, and then go back to my mom's and do the good-daughter thing by having dinner with her and Robbie. Saturday I'm in the ever-after with Al…." My words trailed off. "Next week, maybe?"

Marshal nodded in understanding, and suddenly seeing a golden opportunity to avoid being badgered at my mom's, I blurted out, "Uh, unless you want to come with me to my mom's for dinner? She's making lasagna."

The man laughed. "You want me to play boyfriend so your life doesn't look pathetic, right?"