size.
'Rache!' he exclaimed, puffing as he pushed the black-haired, curvaceous plastic homage to adolescent boys' dreams upright. 'Look what I found! It was in the toy department.'
'Jenks…' I cajoled, hearing the couple behind me snicker.
'It's a Bite-me-Betty doll!' he exclaimed, his wings moving furiously to keep himself upright, his hands on the doll's thighs. 'I want it. I want to get it for Ivy. It looks just like her.'
Eyeing the shiny plastic leather skirt and red vinyl bustier, I took a breath to protest.
'Look, see?' he said, his voice excited. 'You push the lever in her back, and fake blood squirts out. Isn't it great!'
I started when a gelatinous goo jumped from the blank-eyed doll's mouth, arching a good foot before hitting the counter. A red smear dripped down her pointy chin. The register girl eyed it, then hung up on her boyfriend. He wanted to give this to Ivy?
Pushing Ceri's jeans out of the way, I sighed. Jenks hit the lever again, watching in rapt attention as red squirted out with a rude sound. The couple behind me laughed, the woman hanging on his arm and whispering in his ear. Warming, I grabbed the doll. 'I'll buy it for you if you stop that,' I all but hissed.
Eyes bright, Jenks rose up to land on my shoulder, tucking in between my neck and my scarf to stay warm. 'She's gonna love it,' he said. 'You watch.'
Pushing it at the girl behind the counter, I glanced behind me at the tittering couple. They were living vamps, well-dressed and unable to go thirty seconds without touching each other. Knowing I was watching, the woman straightened the collar of his leather jacket to show off his lightly scarred neck. The thought of Nick brought a smile to me, the first time in weeks.
As the girl recalculated my total, I dug in my bag for my checkbook. It was nice having money. Real nice.
'Rache,' Jenks questioned, 'can you put a bag of M&M's in there, too?' His wings sent a cold draft against my neck as he set them vibrating to generate some body heat. It wasn't as if he could wear a coat—not with those wings of his—and anything heavy was too limiting.
I snatched up a bag of overpriced candy whose hand-lettered cardboard sign said the sale would go to help rebuild the fire-damaged city shelters. I already had my total, but she could add it on. And if the vamps behind me had a problem with that, they could curl up and die twice. It was for orphans, for God's sake.
The girl reached for the candy and beeped it, giving me a snotty look. The register chirped to give me the new total, and as they all waited, I flipped to the check register. Freezing, I blinked. It had been balanced with neat tidy numbers. I hadn't bothered to keep a running total as I knew there was tons of money in it, but someone had. Then I brought it closer, staring. 'That's it?' I exclaimed. 'That's all I have left?'
Jenks cleared his throat. 'Surprise,' he said weakly. 'It was just laying there in your desk, and I thought I'd balance it for you.' He hesitated. 'Sorry.'
'It's almost gone!' I stammered, my face probably as red as my hair. The eyes of the register girl were suddenly wary.
Embarrassed, I finished writing out the check. She took it, calling her supervisor to run it through their system to make sure it was good. Behind me, the vamp couple started in with a snarky commentary. Ignoring them, I flipped through the check register to see where it went.
Almost two grand for my new desk and bedroom set, four more for insulating the church, and $3,500 for a garage for my new car; I wasn't about to let it sit out in the snow. Then there was the insurance and gas. A big chunk went to Ivy for my back rent. Another chunk went to my night in the emergency room for my broken arm as I hadn't had insurance at the time. A third chunk to get insurance. And the rest…I swallowed hard. There was money still in there, but I had enjoyed myself down from twenty thousand to high four figures in only three months.
'Um, Rache?' Jenks said. 'I was going to ask you later, but I know this accounting guy. You want me to have him set up an IRA for you? I was looking at your finances, and you might need a shelter this year, seeing as you haven't been taking anything out for taxes.'
'A tax shelter?' I felt sick. 'There's nothing left to put into it.' Taking my bags from the girl, I headed for the door. 'And what are you doing looking at my finances?'
'I'm living in your desk,' he said wryly. 'It's kind of all out there?'
I sighed. My desk. My beautiful solid-oak desk with nooks and crannies and a secret cubby at the bottom of the left-hand drawer. My desk that I had used for only three weeks before Jenks and his brood moved into it. My desk, which was now so thickly covered in potted plants that it looked like a prop for a horror movie about killer plants taking over the world. But it was either that or have them set up housekeeping in the kitchen cupboards. No. Not my kitchen. Having them stage daily mock battles among the hanging pots and utensils was bad enough.
Distracted, I tugged my coat closer and squinted at the bright light reflecting off the snow as the sliding doors opened. 'Whoa, wait up!' Jenks shrilled in my ear when the blast of cold air hit us. 'What the hell do you think you're doing, witch? Do I look like I'm made of fur?'
'Sorry.' I made a quick left turn to get out of the draft and opened my shoulder bag for him. Still swearing, he dropped down to hide inside. He hated it, but there was no alternative. A sustained temp lower than forty-five degrees would throw him into a hibernation that would be unsafe to break until spring, but he should be all right in my bag.
A Were dressed in a thick wool coat that went to his boot tops edged from me with an uncomfortable look. When I tried to make eye contact, he pulled his cowboy hat down and turned away. A frown crossed me; I hadn't had a Were client since I made the Howlers pay me for trying to get their mascot back. Maybe I'd made a mistake there.
'Hey, give me those M&M's, okay?' Jenks grumbled up at me, his short blond hair framing delicate features reddened by the cold. 'I'm starving here.'
I obediently shuffled through the bags and dropped the candy in to him before pulling the ties to my shoulder bag shut. I didn't like bringing him out like this, but I was his partner, not his mom. He enjoyed being the only adult male pixy in Cincinnati not in a stupor. In his eyes, the entire city was probably his garden, as cold and snowy as it was.
I took a moment to dig my zebra-striped car key out from the front pocket. The couple that had been behind me in line passed me on their way out, flirting comfortably and looking like sex in leather. He had bought her a Bite-me-Betty doll, too, and they were laughing. My thoughts went to Nick again, and a warm stir of anticipation took me.
Putting my shades on against the glare, I went out to the sidewalk, keys jingling and bag held tight to me. Even making the trip in my bag, Jenks was going to get cold. I told myself I should make cookies so he could bask in the heat of the cooling oven. It had been ages since I'd made solstice cookies. I was sure I had seen some flour- smeared cookie cutters in a nasty zippy bag at the back of a cupboard somewhere. All I needed was the colored sugar to do it right.
My mood brightened at the sight of my car ankle-deep in crusty slush at the curb. Yeah, it was as expensive as a vampire princess to maintain, but it was mine and I looked really good sitting behind the wheel with the top down and the wind pulling my long hair back…. Not springing for the garage hadn't been an option.
It chirped happily at me as I unlocked it and dropped my bags in the unusable backseat. I folded myself into the front, setting Jenks carefully on my lap, where he might stay a little warmer. The heat went on full-bore as soon as I got the engine started. I tunked it into gear and was ready to pull out when a long white car slid up alongside in a slow hush of sound.
Affronted, I glared as it double-parked to block me in. 'Hey!' I exclaimed when the driver got out in the middle of the freaking road to open the door for his employer. Ticked, I jammed it into neutral, got out of my car and jerked my bag farther up my shoulder. 'Hey! I'm trying to leave here!' I shouted, wanting to bang on the roof of the car.
But my protests choked to nothing when the side door opened and an older man wearing scads of gold necklaces stuck his head out. His frizzed blond hair went out in all directions. Blue eyes glinting in suppressed excitement, he beckoned to me. 'Ms. Morgan,' he exclaimed softly. 'Can I talk to you?'
I took my sunglasses off, staring. 'Takata?' I stammered.
The older rocker winced, his face sliding into faint wrinkles as he glanced over the few pedestrians. They had noticed the limo, and with my outburst, the jig, as they say, was up. Eyes pinched in exasperation, Takata stretched
