White Witch, Black Curse

"Not fair," he exclaimed as we passed into the unsecured part of the airport, and I glanced behind us to see that our escort had dropped to one. Thank God it's the witch. One witch I can handle, even without Jenks.

"Yes fair," I said as I pointed to the hallway we had to take. "His name is Marshal, and he works at the university as a swim coach. He helped me once on a run, and he's the first guy I've ever hung with who isn't trying to get a little something, so be nice."

Robbie eyed me as we got on the escalator. "He's not…"

I looked over at his hesitation to see him holding the moving railing with his pinkie delicately extended, and I smiled with half my mouth. "No, he's straight. I can be with a straight guy who's single and not sleep with him. God!"

"Well, I've never seen it," Robbie said, and I shoved him, burning off a little of the adrenaline from the three security guys. "Hey!" he exclaimed good-naturedly, catching himself in time to handle the end of the escalator with no problem.

We were silent as we scanned the monitors for his flight number and carousel, then slowly joined the growing group of people angling for a good spot. Any day, Jenks.

"You still living in that church?"

My blood pressure spiked, and I dropped his bag with a thump. "With that vampire, yes." How does he hit my buttons so fast?

His gaze on the bags spilling out one by one, Robbie made a noise deep in his throat. "What does Mom think?"

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it tonight," I said, tired already. Actually, my mom was pretty cool about it. And with Marshal there, she might not bring it up at all.

"There it is," Robbie blurted out, saving me from further conversation, and then his expression became concerned. "I think it's mine," he added, and I dropped back when he wedged himself between two shorter women to lug the rolling suitcase off the belt.

The clatter of pixy wings and the soft sound of cooing people told me Jenks was around, and I wound my scarf around my neck to give him a place to warm up. The lights had been bright around the flower cart, but it was drafty here by the doors.

"Hi, Rache," Jenks said as he landed on my shoulder with the scent of cheap fertilizer.

"Get what you want?" I asked as Robbie lugged his rolling suitcase off the belt.

"No," he said, and I could hear the annoyance in his voice. "Everything had a waxy preservative on it. Why, by Tink's little red shoes, are three cops following you?"

"I have no idea." Robbie trundled his suitcase to us, his head down and looking annoyed. "Hey, Robbie, I want you to meet Jenks, my business partner," I said as my brother halted before us, disgust clear in the way he yanked the pull lever up.

"Someone broke the lock on my suitcase," he said, then forced the irritation from his face when Jenks flew down to look at it.

"Yep," the pixy said, hovering before it with his hands on his hips, then darting up, making Robbie's head snap back. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Jenks said.

"You're the one keeping my sister out of trouble?" Robbie said as he offered Jenks a hand to light upon, his smile honest and full. "Thanks. I owe you big."

"Naahh." Jenks's wings turned a delicate shade of red even as they hummed to life. "She's not that hard to watch. It's my kids who run me ragged."

Robbie sent his eyes to me, then back to Jenks. "You've got kids? You don't look old enough."

"Almost four dozen," he said, justifiably proud that he could keep that many children alive. "Let's get out of here before cookie-farts over there starts to have delusions of grandeur and tries to search your underwear again."

Lips parted, I glanced at the security cop standing thirty feet back—smiling at me. What in hell was going on? "You want to see if anything is gone?" I asked.

"No." He frowned at the busted lock. "Jenks is right. There's nothing in there but clothes and a half ream of music."

"I know," Jenks said. "I was listening to the radio chatter at the flower cart. I should have guessed it was you they were talking about, Rache."

"Did you hear why they're watching us?" I asked, heart pounding. "Is it the I.S.?"

Jenks shook his head. "They didn't say. If you go for another coffee, I can find out."

I looked at Robbie in a question, but he was shifting uneasily from foot to foot. I glanced at the security guy, now standing with his arms crossed over his chest, as if begging me to complain. "No," Robbie said as he started gathering his things. "It's not worth it. Where are you parked?"

"Idaho," I quipped, but inside I was getting upset. Why did they search my brother's bag if I'm the one they're watching? "So…tell me about Cindy," I asked as we neared the big glass doors. Jenks dove for my scarf as they slid open, and we went out into the bright but cold afternoon.