clatter when she dropped it onto the tin with its blobs of uncooked dough waiting to go in the oven.
Her brown eyes fixed on Nick's for an instant, then she grabbed the two tins with the oven mitt and strode to the door. Still silent, she opened it, dropping everything on the walk outside. Her speed was edging into a vamp quickness when she returned, jerking the bowl out of Nick's unresisting grip and swiping the cookies cooling on the counter into it.
'Ivy?' I questioned.
''Morning, Rachel,' she said tightly. Ignoring Jenks, she opened the door and dropped the metal mixing bowl onto the walk with the rest. Plucking the cookie out of Jenks's hand, she flicked it over the threshold, slammed the door, and vanished into her room.
Bewildered, I glanced at Jenks. The pixy shrugged, then turned the volume down on the TV. I followed his gaze to Nick. His expression was positively vindictive. My eyes narrowed and I leaned back, crossing my arms. 'What was that all about?' I asked.
'Ooooh, I forgot,' he said, lightly snapping his healing fingers. 'Vampires are sensitive to the scent of cloves. Golly, the smell must have woken her up.'
My jaw tightened. I hadn't known that. Apparently neither had Jenks, since he was the one who had gone shopping. Nick turned to the sink a little too slowly to hide his smile.
I took a breath, deciding he was lucky Ivy hadn't smacked him hard enough to knock him out. In the shape he was in, it wouldn't take much. My eyes fell on the pain amulet he was wearing, thinking the entire situation was stupid. Jenks told me earlier that Ivy had been on the Internet all last night as Nick tried to sleep. Payback?
My fingers tapped the laminated table. Standing, I closed the lid on my laptop, then slid my demon curse book off the table and into my arms. 'I'll be in the van,' I said blandly.
'Rachel—' Nick started, but I snatched up my list and pencil and walked out of the kitchen, the heavy book making me awkward and unbalanced. It kind of went with my mood.
'Whatever, Nick…' I said tiredly, not turning around.
Jenks was a mix of wary alertness. The paper on the table before him was strewn with Jax's work. He was getting better.
'I'll be in the van, if you need me,' I said in passing.
'Sure.' His eyes went from me to Jax trying to coax Rex out from under the bed. The sight of a pixy holding up a bedspread calling 'Kitty, kitty, kitty' looked risky even to me.
'Rachel,' Nick protested when I opened the door, but I didn't turn. Reversing my steps, I snatched up my bag with the focus in it. No need to leave that sitting around.
'You stupid lunker,' Jenks said as I left. 'Don't you know she always sides with—'
The door clicked closed, cutting off his words. 'The underdog,' I finished. Depressed, I leaned against the door, the focus tucked between me and my demon book, my head bowed. Not this time. I wouldn't side with Nick, and despite the cookie incident, Nick was the underdog.
Birdsong and the chill of morning pulled my head up. It was quiet and damp, the rush-hour traffic nonexistent. The sun was trying to break through the light fog, giving everything a golden sheen. The nearby straits were probably beautiful, not that I could see them from where I stood.
Gathering my resolve, I shifted the weight of the demon book and dug in my pocket for the van's keys. We'd parked in the shade of a huge white pine between the road and the motel so I could set a circle without people running into it. The new hundred-dollar running shoes that Ivy had bought me were silent on the pavement, and it felt odd being up this early. Creepy. Habit made me shift through the keys so they didn't clink, and only the muffled thunk of the van unlocking broke the stillness until I lugged the side door open in a sound of sliding metal and rolling rubber. Still peeved, I stepped up and in, and slammed the door shut in frustration.
I dropped the demon book on the cot and sat next to it. Elbows on my knees, I kicked my bag under me. I didn't want to be there, but I wanted to be in the motel room less. The silence grew, and I reluctantly slid the curse book onto my lap. I was here, I might as well do something. Wedging off my shoes, I sat cross-legged with my back to the drape drawn between me and the front seat. It was dim, and I tugged the little side curtain open to let in the light.
My lightning charm rasped on the yellowing pages as I leafed through the tome looking for anything familiar. There wasn't a table of contents, making it difficult to satisfy my curiosity. Big Al used demon magic to look like people he had never seen, plucking their description and voice from memories like I picked flowers from my garden. I wasn't going to twist a demon curse for a disguise when I could use an illegal, white earth charm, but comparing the two might give me insight into how the three branches of magic pulled on each other's strengths.
The Latin word for copy caught my attention, and I leaned closer, feeling my legs protest. I needed to get out and run; I was stiffening. Slowly I pieced it out, deciding the word actually translated into transpose. There was a difference. The curse didn't make someone look like someone else, it moved the abilities of one person into another. My lips parted. That's how Al not only turned himself into Ivy, but took the abilities of a vampire as well.
My eyebrows rose, and I wondered whom Al got his vampiric abilities from. Piscary, in return for a favor? A lesser vampire he had in the ever-after? Ceri would know.
Gaze dropping to my bag, my pulse quickened at the thoughts sliding through me. I couldn't duplicate the focus without commissioning an artist—who would take forever and then have to be charmed into forgetfulness— but maybe if I moved its power to a new thing…
'Demon curse, Rachel,' I whispered. 'You're a bad girl to even think it.'
The sound of a motel door opening and closing pulled a thread of caution through me. I didn't hear footsteps. Berating myself for not having done it sooner, I tapped a line. 'Rhombus,' I whispered, instigating a series of hard- practiced lessons that flicked a five-minute setup and invocation of a circle into a heartbeat. The zing of ever-after tingled through me, making it feel as if my body was humming. It was fascinating that the line here 'tasted' different, more electrical almost. I think it was all the ground water.
'Yikes,' came Jenks's soft voice. 'When she wants to be alone, she doesn't leave any bones about it, does she?'
There was a high-pitched answer, and I pushed the book off my lap and lurched past the curtain and into the front. 'Jenks,' I called, tapping the glass before I stuck the key in the ignition and rolled the window down. 'What's up?'
The tall pixy turned from unlocking Kisten's Corvette. Smiling, he squinted in the haze and crossed the parking lot, two amulets about his neck and a red baseball cap on his head. One was for scent, the other, an over- the-counter charm, turned his hair black. It wasn't much, but it would do. His feet edged the black haze of ever- after between us, and I dropped the circle, my pulse temporally quickening at the surge of power before I disconnected from the line.
'I need some more toothbrushes,' he said, coming closer. 'And maybe some fudge.'
Knealing on the seat, I put my crossed arms on the windowsill. Toothbrushes? He had six open on the bathroom counter. 'You know, you can reuse those,' I said, and he shuddered.
'No thanks. Besides, I want to take Jax on a lesson on low-temperature runs so Ivy can smack crap for brains a good one if he wants to keep antagonizing her.'
'Hi, Ms. Morgan,' Jax chimed out, Jenks's hat lifting to show Jax peeping from under it.
A smile curved over me. 'Hi, Jax. Keep your dad's back, okay?'
'You bet.'
Pride crinkled Jenks's eyes. 'Jax, do a quick reconnaissance of the area. Watch your temps. And be careful. I heard blue jays earlier.'
'Okay.' Jax wiggled out from under his dad's hat and zipped off in a clatter of wings.
I exhaled, a mix of melancholy and pride over Jax learning a new skill. 'Will you stop calling Nick crap for brains?' I asked, tired of playing referee. 'You used to like him.'
Jenks made a face. 'He turned my son into a thief and broke my partner's heart. Why should I give him a draft of consideration?'
Surprised, my eyebrows rose. I hadn't known my falling out with Nick bothered him.
'Don't get all girly on me,' Jenks said gruffly. 'I may only be eighteen, but I've been married for ten years. You turned into a slobbering blob, and I don't want to see it again. It's pathetic, and it makes me want to pix you.' His face grew worried. 'I've seen how you get around dangerous men, and you always fall for the underdog. Nick is both. I mean, he's dangerous and he's been hurt, and hurt bad,' Jenks rushed on, mistaking my sick look for fear.
