For a Few Demons More

future. 'Thank you, Rachel,' he said while handing me the garment bags. ''Jonathan will call when she finally chooses a dress.'

The garment bags settled over my arm with the scent of perfume. Crap, they were made from silk, and I wondered what the dresses looked like. I felt odd having Trent thank me. He wasn't moving, though, and I prompted, 'Well, good-bye.'

He hesitated, eyeing me as he found the sidewalk. He went to say something, then turned away. Quen had the door for him, and, his steps quick despite the heat, Trent headed for the limo and slid in with a practiced grace. Quen gently shut the door. Watching me, he went to the front of the car and got in. Guilt pricked at me. Was I doing Ceri an injustice by not introducing her to Trent? I didn't want him using her, but she could take care of herself, and, if nothing more, she could find others of her kind. Trent probably had a Christmas card list.

I exhaled in relief when they pulled from the curb and accelerated down the street. 'Thank God,' I muttered, then frowned. I was going to be in Trent's wedding. Swell.

I turned to the door, and Ivy's voice echoed out. 'That's not what your ad says!' she exclaimed, shortly followed by Jenks's voice, too faint to understand.

'It's not that I don't want to,' an unfamiliar masculine voice protested, becoming louder. 'I don't have the equipment or skill to fix it.'

I hesitated, hand on the latch. The man had sounded embarrassed. The door swung open, and I jumped back, stumbling to catch my balance. A young man almost walked right into me, jerking to a halt at the last moment. His clean-shaven face reddened, and the purple sash of his faith draped around his neck and flowing down his front looked funny with his jeans and the casual polo shirt embroidered with his business name. An expensive- looking cell phone was clipped to his belt, and he carried a locked toolbox.

'Excuse me,' he said in annoyance. Jiggling on his feet, he tried to get around me. I took a step to get into his way, and his eyes rose to meet mine.

Ivy was glowering behind him, Jenks hovering at head height with his wings clattering in anger. Her eyebrows went up when she saw the silk garment bags, then, catching her thought, she said dryly, 'Rachel, this is Dr. Williams. He says he can't resanctify the church. Dr. Williams, this is my partner, Rachel Morgan.'

Almost hiding his irritation, the man moved his toolbox to his left hand and extended his right. I shifted my garment bags and shook it. I felt a rise of stored ley-line energy try to slip between us to equal out our balances, and I snatched the force back before it could make the jump. God, how embarrassing.

'Hi,' I said, thinking he looked cute and had a nice grip. The heady scent of redwood flowed from him, stronger than I'd winded in a long time. He was a witch, and an educated one, and when his brown eyes widened, I knew he knew I was the same. 'What's the problem?' I said, letting go of his hand. 'If it's the financing, I just took care of it. I can have cash for you by Monday next.'

It felt damn good saying that, but Jenks dropped three inches and groaned, and Ivy glanced at the garment bags in understanding. 'Rachel, you didn't…' she said, and I flushed.

'I'm working a wedding and a reception,' I said tightly. 'How bad could it be?' Really bad. Really, really bad.

But Dr. Williams was squinting at his van and shaking his head.

'Your financing came through fine. I simply can't do it. I'm sorry. If you'll excuse me…'

Crap. The first guy to come out here hadn't been able to either.

The man tried to leave, but Ivy moved with a vampire quickness, surprising all of us. Giving me a tight-lipped look, she muttered to me, 'We're going to talk about this,' and then to Dr. Williams, blinking at her suddenly before him, 'Your ad says—'

'I know what the ad says,' he interrupted. 'I wrote it. I told you we don't have the experience for your situation.'

He got another step down before Ivy was in front of him again, a dangerous thinning of brown around her pupil. He stopped, angry as he took off his purple ribbon. His disregard for the danger she represented surprised me, until I decided that if he could sanctify ground, he could probably take care of himself. I ran my eyes over him again, new thoughts sifting through me.

'Look,' he said, dropping his head. When it came back up, there was an expression of warning in his gaze. 'If it was just resanctifying it, I could do it, but your church has been blasphemed.'

My lips parted, and Ivy crossed her arms over her chest in an unusual show of worry. I twisted a demon curse on blasphemed ground without the protection of my aura? Great.

'Blasphemed!' Jenks exclaimed, silver sparkles sifting from him. In the bushes there was a high-pitched call from a winged eavesdropper, quickly hushed.

The man looked from the bush to me. 'From the bedrooms up to the front door,' he said, clearly resigned he wasn't leaving until I was satisfied. 'The entire church is contaminated. I'd have to get the demon smut off first, and I don't know how to do that.'

His lack of fear seemed to give Ivy something to tie her emotions to and bring them back under control, but Jenks clattered his wings aggressively. He was getting ready to pix the man, and their attitudes were starting to tick me off. If Dr. Williams couldn't do it, he couldn't do it.

'Jenks,' I admonished, 'backoff. If he can't do it, it's not his fault.'

The doctor's grip on his tackle box tightened, his pride clearly feeling the sting. 'It's usually the coroner who is called in to cleanup failed demon summonings, not me.'

Ivy stiffened, and before she could get all vampy, I interjected, 'I didn't call the demon. She showed up on her own.'

He laughed bitterly, as if he had caught me in a lie. 'She?' he mocked. 'Female demons can't cross the lines.'

'Can't, or won't?'

That made him pause, his expression taking on a hint of respect. Then he shook his head and his expression became hard. 'Demon practitioners have a life expectancy of months, Ms. Morgan. I suggest you change your profession. Before your state-of-aliveness does it for you.'

Dr. Williams took a step down, and I shot after him, 'I don't deal in demons. She showed up on her own.'

'That's my point.' His feet were on the sidewalk, and he stopped and turned. 'I'm very sorry, Ms. Tamwood, Jenks…' His gaze lifted to me. '… Ms. Morgan, but this is outside my current abilities. If the ground hadn't been cursed, there would be no problem, but as it is… ?' Shaking his head again, he headed for his van.

I shifted my garment bags to my other arm. 'What if we got the ground cleaned?'

He stopped at the back of his van to open it and set his toolbox in it. He slammed it shut, his purple ribbon still in his grip. 'It would be cheaper to move the bodies out of the cemetery and build a new church on hallowed ground.' He hesitated, his attention flitting to the copper sign above the church door, proudly stating VAMPIRIC CHARMS. 'I'm sorry. But you should count yourself lucky you even survived.'

Shoes scuffing the pavement, he disappeared around the side of the van. The sound of his driver's-side door shutting seemed loud in the quiet street, drawing attention to the tinkling of an ice cream truck. As his van drove away, Ivy sat on the second step down. Saying nothing, I sat beside her, draping the bags over my knees. After a moment of hesitation, Jenks landed on my shoulder. Together we watched the ice cream truck trundle closer, its merry tune sounding especially irritating.

In an eyeball-hurting, shrill cloud, Jenks's kids flocked over to it, diving in and out of the man's windows until he stopped. He had been coming down here every day since the first of July to sell a two-dollar snow cone to a family of pixies.

Jenks's wings shifted my hair in the breeze as he lifted off. 'Hey, Ivy,' he said confidently, 'can you float me a couple of bucks? '

It was an old pattern by now, and, shoulders hunched, she got to her feet. Grumbling under her breath, she slipped into the church for her purse.

I knew I should be worried about the church and sleeping on blasphemed ground, but I was ticked about working for Trent for no reason-seeing as we couldn't resanctify the church. And on my birthday, too.

While Jenks yelled at his kids to decide on a flavor and get it over with, I dug my phone out of my bag and hit the speed dial. I had to call Kisten.