White Witch, Black Curse

Ford chuckled. "You're the last person to be throwing stones," he said. "Ignoring a lead for six months because you felt guilty that you weren't there to save the two people you love the most."

Surprised, I turned to Ivy. Her first startled look turned into a one-shouldered, embarrassed shrug. "Ivy," I said as I leaned against the counter, "Kisten's death is not your fault. You weren't even there."

"But if I had been, it might not have happened," she said softly.

Ford cleared his throat, looking at the archway as Jenks buzzed back in, sullen. Matalina was hovering at the lintel, her arms crossed and a severe expression on her face. Apparently the wise pixy woman was doing a bit of psychoanalyzing herself and didn't want Jenks sulking in the desk.

"Sorry, Rache," he said as he lit on my shoulder. "I shouldn't have flown out like that."

"Don't worry about it," I murmured. "I only said what I did because I was so far from putting blame on you that what I sounded like never occurred to me. You saved my life. And we'll get my memory back. You did okay. I just want to know what happened."

Ford leaned back and tucked his pencil away. "You will. It's starting to surface."

"Can we get back to the ghost?" Jenks said, his wings making my hair fly, and the wan-looking human smiled.

"He says thank you, by the way," Ford said, glancing at his notebook. "He didn't find his rest, much to his shame, but he wouldn't be allowed to walk as he is if it hadn't been for Al freeing him."

"Al!" I exclaimed, squinting to see Ford's smile through the cloud of sparkles Jenks had made, hovering in midair, in shock. Even Ivy paused, bagel halfway to her mouth. "What does Al have to do with this?" I stammered as Jenks made self-congratulatory sounds.

"I knew it!" he crowed. "I knew it all along!"

But Ford was still smiling, the faint wrinkles around his eyes making him look tired. "Nothing intentionally, I'm sure. Remember that tombstone your demon cracked?"

I shook my head, biting back my ire at his use of the term "your demon." Then I changed the motion into a nod. "The night I rescued Ceri?" I said, then blinked. "My God. Pierce is buried here? In our backyard?"

If pixies could have coronaries, Jenks was having one. Sputtering, he hovered, his face frightened and a steady stream of black sparkles puddling on the center counter to spill over and eddy about my stocking feet. "You're talking about the one with the weird-ass statue of the angel?" he managed, and Ford nodded.

No way! I thought, wondering if I had enough time to find my flashlight and go out and look at it before Marshal got here.

"The name was scratched off!" Jenks shrilled, and Rex stretched, going to twine about my feet as she tried to get closer to her tiny master.

"Take a chill pill, Jenks," I said, "before you set your dust on fire."

"You shut up!" he shouted, then flew to Ivy. "I told you! Didn't I tell you? You don't chisel off someone's name unless…" His eyes widened. "And he's in unsanctified ground!" he squeaked. "Rachel, he's trouble. And he's dead! Doesn't it bother you that he's dead? How come he's dead!"

Ivy's dark eyes went from me to Jenks, and then to Ford, who was sitting back and watching it all in a rather clinical way.

"He was dead when I met him," I said dryly, "and he was nice enough then. Besides, a good slice of Cincy's population is dead."

"Yeah, but they aren't lurking in our church, spying on us!" he yelled, getting right in my face. "Why are you trying to make him real!"

I had endured just about enough. Slamming a cupboard door shut, I stepped forward to push him back. "He's been trying to make contact," I said, eyes narrowed and inches from him. "Making him solid is the only way I can talk to him without a frickin' Ouija board. If you have to know, he was cemented into the ground because he was accused of being a witch in the 1800s. He's probably trying to find a way to get out of purgatory and just die, so lighten up!"

Ivy cleared her throat, her bagel perched on her fingertips. "He was accused of being a witch?" she asked. "I thought you guys were really careful before the Turn."

I backed off from Jenks and took a cleansing breath. "The vamp he tagged as a blood pedophile ratted on him," I said. "Told everyone he was a witch. The ignorant SOBs cemented him into the ground alive. He's not a black witch any more than I am."

Ford's chair scraped as he rose. Grabbing his coat, he came forward as he shuffled into it. "I have to go," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "I'll call you tomorrow and we can set up a time to do the hypnosis."

"Sure," I said absently, glaring at Jenks, glowing fiercely by the fridge.