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"Be careful," he goaded. "Someone might think you still like him."
"I do not," I said, feeling a headache start. "But he's in trouble and I can't just let whoever it is kill him."
A bitter, saucy look returned to Jenks's face, and he flitted to the end of a two-by-four sticking out of a can. "Yuh-huh," he said snidely, hands on his hips. "Why are you really going?"
"I just told you why," I snapped, hiding my bitten hand when he looked at it.
His head bobbed up and down. "Yada yada yada," he said, making a get-on-with-it gesture with one hand. "I know why you're going, but I want to hear you say it."
I fumbled, not believing this. "Because I'm as mad as all hell!" I said, the rain falling steadily now. If we had to continue this conversation much longer, we were going to get soaked. "He said he was going to come back, and he did, just long enough to clear out his apartment and take off. No good-bye, not even an 'it was great, babe, but I gotta go now.' I need to tell him to his face that he crapped all over me and I don't love him anymore."
Jenks's tiny eyebrows rose, and I wished he was bigger so I could wipe the smirk off his face. "This is some female closure thing, isn't it?" he said, and I sneered.
"Look," I said. "I'm going to get Jax and pull Nick's sorry ass out from whatever mess he's in. Are you coming with me, or are you going to waste your time taking smut runs for a paycheck you will only waste on a plane ticket that will leave you hospitalized for three days?" I slowed, thinking I could chance appealing to his love for Matalina without him flying away. "Matalina is scared, Jenks. She's afraid you won't come back if you go alone."
His face emptied of emotion, and for a moment I thought I'd gone too far. "I can do this on my own," he said angrily. "I don't need your help."
My thoughts went to his iffy food supply and the cold northern nights. It could snow in May in Michigan. Jenks knew it. "Sure you don't," I said. I crossed my arms and eyed him. "Just like I could have survived those fairy assassins last year without your help."
His lips pursed. He took a breath to tell me something. His hand went up, finger pointing. I made my eyes wide and mocking. Slowly his hand fell. Still standing on the two-by-four, Jenks's wings drooped. "You're going?"
I fought to keep my surge of hope from showing. "Yes," I said. "But to even have a chance, I need a security bypass expert, reco
Jenks's wings hummed into motion, then stilled. "You hurt me bad, Rachel."
My chest clenched in guilt. "I know," I whispered. "And I'm sorry. I don't deserve your help, but I'm asking for it." I pulled my head up, pleading with him with my eyes. For the first time, his face showed the hurt I'd given him, and my heart broke again.
"I'll think about it," he muttered, taking to the air.
I took a faltering step after him. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Early noon."
Wings clattering, Jenks flew a swooping path back to me. I nearly raised my hand for him to land on, but it would hurt too much if he shu
My throat closed and I swallowed down a lump. He'd come back. He knew it as much as I did. I wanted to shout an exuberant, "Yes!" I wanted to whoop to make the passing people stare, but what I did instead was smile shakily at him. "Okay," I said, so relieved I was almost crying.
Blinking profusely, I followed him to the head of the alley. Though Jenks would have snugged under my hat before, to get out of the rain, it was too much to ask just yet. "Can you meet me tonight at the church after midnight?" I asked. "I have a few charms to prep before we head out."
We left the alley together, the lighter gloom making me feel as if we had come out of a black hole. We were both walking on eggshells; the patterns were familiar, but the sensitivities were so very fragile.
"I can do that," Jenks said apprehensively, glancing up at the rain.
"Good. Good." I listened to my feet hit the sidewalk, the thumps jarring up my spine. "Do you still have your half of the phone set you gave me?" I could hear the hesitancy in my voice, and I wondered if Jenks could too. I had kept the phone he'd given me for the solstice. Hell, I had almost made it into a shrine.
I popped open Ivy's black umbrella, and Jenks flew under it. Five months ago he would have sat on my shoulder, but even this small show of trust caught at me.
"David brought it over," he said stiffly, keeping to the distant corner.
"Good," I said again, feeling stupid. "Can you bring it with you?"
"It's a little big for me to slip into my pocket, but I'll manage." It was sarcastic and biting, but he was sounding more like the Jenks I knew.
I glanced at him, seeing he was trailing the faintest wisp of silver sparkles. My car was just ahead, and I wondered whether he'd take offense if I offered him a ride home.
"Cowardly ball of spider snot?" Jenks said when I opened the door and he darted inside.
Swallowing hard, I stared across to the sidewalk and the people ru
Four
I held up the black lace top in consideration. Sighing, I decided against it, folding it up and jamming it back into the third drawer down. Sure, I looked good in it, but this was a rescue run, not spring break. Taking the short-sleeve peach-colored cotton shirt instead, I set it atop the jeans already packed in the suitcase my mom had given me for graduation. She insisted it hadn't been a hint, but I reserved my doubts to this day.
Moving to my top drawer, I grabbed enough socks and undies for a week. The church was empty since Ivy was out getting Jenks and his brood. The rain pattered pleasantly on my small stained-glass window propped open with a pencil, getting the sill wet but little else. From the dark garden came the trill of a toad. It mixed well with the soft jazz from the living room.
In the back of my closet I found the red turtleneck sweater I'd stored last week. I shook the hanger from it, carefully folded it, and set it with the rest. I added a pair of ru
My head rose at the creak of the front door. "Hey, it's me," came Kisten's voice.
And now it was better still. "Back here," I called, taking two steps to the hall, one hand on the doorframe as I leaned out. The lights were dim in the sanctuary, his tall silhouette mysterious and attractive as he shook the rain from his full-length slicker.
I ducked back inside and shut my underwear drawer just before Kisten came in, the soft and certain steps of his dress shoes distinct on the hardwood floor. The scent of pizza and someone else's perfume hung about him, and by his carefully styled hair, clean-shaven cheeks, expensive dress slacks and silk shirt, I knew he had come from work. I liked the respectable, financially successful club manager aspect of Kisten as much as his rougher, bad boy image. He could do both equally well.
"Hi, love," he said, hitting his fake British accent hard to make me smile. A rain-spotted paper grocery bag was in his hands, the top rolled down. I padded forward in my sneakers, having to reach to give him a hug. My fingers played with the damp tips of his hair as I drew away, and he smiled, enjoying the tease.