The Good, The Bad, And The Undead

took it out back and had a fish fry to boost his kids' protein levels before fall hibernation. She had been violently ill after returning from midnight church services this morning, but she wouldn't stop going. She told me it would help keep space between her and Piscary. Mental space, apparently. Time and distance were enough to break the bond a lesser vamp could put on another with a bite, but Piscary was a master vampire. The bond would last until Piscary wanted it ended.

Slowly Ivy and I were finding a new balance. When the sun was high and bright, she was Ivy, my friend and partner, cheerful with her dry, sarcastic humor as we thought up practical jokes to play on Jenks or discussed possible improvements to the church to make it more livable. After sunset, she left so I wouldn't see what the night did to her now. She was strong in the sunlight, a cruel goddess after sunset, balanced on the edge of helplessness in the battle she fought against herself.

Uncomfortable with my thoughts, I pulled on the ley line and sent a pitched ball wild, to smack into the wall behind the catcher.

'Rachel?' Captain Edden said, his eyes behind his glasses taking on a hard look as he leaned past his son to see me. 'Let me know if she wants to talk to Piscary. I'd be glad to look the other way if she wants to smack him around.'

He eased back as I gave him a wan smile. Piscary had been extradited to I.S. custody, safe and sound in a vamp jail cell. The preliminary hearing had gone well, the sensationalism of the situation prompting an unexpected opening in the court docket. Algaliarept showed up to prove he was a reliable witness. The demon made all the papers, morphing into all sorts of figures to scare the pants off everyone in the courtroom. What disturbed me most was that the judge was afraid of a little towheaded girl with a lisp and a limp. I think the demon enjoyed it.

I adjusted my red Howlers' hat against the sun as a batter came to the mound to pop a few into the infield. Hot dog in my lap, I shifted my fingers and mouthed the incantation. The park's safeguards had risen higher, and I had to punch a hole through them to reach the line. A sudden influx of everafter coursed through me, and Nick stiffened. Excusing himself, he slid past me, muttering about the bathroom. His lanky form hastened down the steps and vanished.

Unhappy, I sent the ever-after energy into the pitcher's throw. There was a sharp crack as the bat broke. The batter dropped the shattered ash, swearing loud enough that I could hear him. He turned to look at the stands in accusation. The pitcher put his mitt on his hip. The catcher stood. My eyes narrowed in satisfaction as the coach whistled, pulling everyone in.

'Nice one, Rache,' Jenks said, and Captain Edden started, giving me a questioning look.

'That you?' he asked, and I shrugged. 'You're going to get yourself banned.'

'Maybe they should have paid me.' I was being careful. No one was getting hurt. I could make their runners twist their ankles and the wild throws hit players if I wanted. I wasn't. I was just messing with their warm-up. I poked about in the napkin the hot dog had been wrapped in. Where was my ketchup packet? This hot dog was utterly tasteless.

The FIB captain moved uneasily. 'Ah, about your compensation, Morgan…'

'Forget it,' I offered quickly. 'I figure I still owe you for paying off my I.S. contract.'

'No,' he said. 'We had an agreement. It's not your fault the class was canceled—'

'Glenn, can I have your ketchup?' I said brusquely, cutting Edden off. 'I don't know how you people can eat hot dogs without it. Why the Turn didn't that guy give me any ketchup?'

Edden leaned back, a heavy sigh slipping from him. Glenn obediently shuffled about his wad of paper until he came up with a white plastic packet. Face drawn, he looked at my broken arm and hesitated. 'I'll—uh—open it for you,' he offered.

'Thanks,' I muttered, not liking being helpless. Trying not to scowl, I watched the detective carefully tear open the packet. He handed it to me, and with the hot dog balanced on my lap, I awkwardly squeezed the ketchup out. So intent was I on getting it on the right spot, I almost missed Glenn raising his hand and surreptitiously licking a red smear off his fingers.

Glenn? I thought. My face went slack as I remembered our missing ketchup and the pieces fell into place. 'You…' I sputtered. Glenn had stolen our ketchup?

The man's face went panicked, and he reached out, almost covering my mouth before he drew back. 'No,' he pleaded, leaning close. 'Don't say anything.'

'You took our ketchup!' I breathed, shocked. Beyond Glenn I could see Jenks rocking in mirth on Edden's shoulder, able to hear our whispers and keep up a running conversation to distract the FIB captain at the same time.

Glenn shot a guilty look at his dad. 'I'll pay you for it,' he begged. 'Anything you want. Just don't tell my dad. Oh God, Rachel. It would kill him.'

For a moment I could only stare. He had taken our ketchup. Right off our table. 'I want your handcuffs,' I said suddenly. 'I can't find anything real without fake purple fur glued to it.'

His panicked look eased and he shifted back. 'Monday.'

'Soon enough for me.' My words were calm, but inside I was singing. I was going to get my cuffs back! It was going to be a good day.

He darted a guilty look toward his dad. 'Will you—get me a bottle of spicy?'

My eyes jerked to his.

'Maybe some barbecue sauce?'

I closed my mouth before a bug flew into it. 'Sure.' I did not believe this. I was pimping ketchup to the son of the FIB's captain.

I looked up to see a park official wearing a red polyester vest loping up the stairs toward us, scanning the faces. A smile curved over me as he met my eyes. He worked his way down the relatively empty aisle in front of us as I wrapped up what was left of my hot dog and set it on Nick's seat, then dropped the baseball into my bag out of sight. It had been fun while it lasted. I wasn't going to interfere with the game, but they didn't know that.

Jenks flitted from Captain Edden to me. He was wearing all red and white in honor of the team, the brightness hurting my eyes. 'Oooooh,' he mocked. 'You're in trouble now.' Edden gave me one last warning look before putting his attention on the field, clearly trying to divorce himself from me lest they kick him out, too.

'Ms. Rachel Morgan?' the young man in the red vest questioned as he reached us.

I stood with my bag. 'Yes.'

'I'm Matt Ingle. Park ley line security? Could you come with me, please?'

Glenn got to his feet, standing with his feet spread wide and his hands on his hips. 'Is there a problem?' he asked, turning the angry-young-black-man mien on high. I was too thrown by him liking ketchup to get angry at him wanting to protect me.

Matt shook his head, not cowed at all. 'No sir. The Howlers' owner heard about Ms. Morgan's efforts to retrieve their mascot and would like to speak with her.'

'I'd be happy to talk to her,' I said as Jenks chortled, his wings turning a bright red. Despite Captain Edden keeping my name out of the paper, the entirety of Cincinnati and the Hollows knew who had solved the witch hunter murders, made the tag, and summoned the demon into the courtroom. My phone was ringing off the hook with requests for help. Overnight, I had gone from struggling entrepreneur to bad-ass runner. What did I have to fear from the owner of the Howlers?

'I'm coming with you,' Glenn said.

'I can handle this,' I said, mildly affronted.

'I know, but I want to talk to you, and I think they're going to kick you out of the park.'

Edden chuckled, shifting his squat bulk deeper into the hard seat. Taking a key chain from his front pocket, he handed it to Glenn.

'You think?' I said, waving 'bye to Jenks and telling him with a finger motion and a nod that I'd see him back at the church. The pixy nodded, settling himself back on Captain Edden's shoulder, hooting and hollering, having too much fun to leave.

Glenn and I followed the ley line security guy to a waiting golf cart, and he drove us deeper into the stadium. It grew cool and quiet, the thrum of the unseen thousands around us a low, almost subliminal thunder. Far into the authorized personnel areas and amid black suits and champagne, Matt stopped the cart. Glenn helped me out, and I took my cap off, handing it to him as I fluffed my hair. I was dressed nice in jeans and white sweater, but everyone I'd seen in the last two minutes was wearing a tie or diamond earrings. Some had both.