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Ivy's chair bumped and scraped as Marshal pulled it to the open spot, and he sighed when he sat down. "It was one of the oddest interviews I've ever had," he said as I rummaged for the chopsticks with my back to him. "They seemed to like me, but I thought they were going to give it to the other guy—and for the life of me, I couldn't tell why. He had developed a swim program for a high school down in Florida, but he didn't have either the dive time or ley line experience, and that's what they were looking for."
I sat down kitty-corner to him and his eyes flicked to the chopsticks.
"Then all of a sudden, they made a decision and offered me the job," he finished.
"All of a sudden, huh?" Jenks said, and I shot him a look to shut him up. Marshal didn't get the job because of Ry
Marshal was still looking at the chopsticks. "It was weird, like I'd done them a favor or something by saying yes." His gaze flicked from the chopsticks to me and he winced. "Uh, I'm going to need a fork."
I laughed and got back up. "Sorry." I felt his attention on me, and feeling sassy, I picked out two forks. Marshal was dishing out the food, and it was nice being with someone who wasn't looking for anything. "You know, since Al showed up, we don't have to hang around here."
"Rachel…," Jenks protested, and I turned, bumping the drawer closed with my hip.
"What?" I complained. "He's not going to come back tonight. I've been on unsanctified ground this entire time."
"And Ivy's going to have fairies coming out her ass when she finds out," Jenks said.
I plopped down, not meeting anyone's gaze. Marshal glanced from me to Jenks, watching us between tapping rice out on our plates. Jenks waved his hand no when Marshal offered, which didn't surprise me. The small pixy wasn't happy, and his wings were turning red as he grew upset and his circulation increased. A
"Why? Because you didn't have Minias cart him off when your deluded sense of siding with the underdog told you he was tired and he appreciated you trusting him? Tink's contractual hell, Rachel. That's nuts. Slug nuts with slime on top. If you die tonight, it's not my fault!"
Marshal continued to serve food, and the spicy scent did nothing to ease my tension. "Ah, Rachel? You want to go roller-skating tomorrow?" he said, clearly not liking Jenks and me arguing. It was an obvious attempt to change the subject, but my ire evaporated, and I uncrossed my arms and decided to ignore Jenks.
"Do you know how long it's been since I've been skating?" I said.
The pixy dropped to his empty tea bag caddy with his arms crossed over his chest, shedding silver sparkles. "According to your mom, not since you were ba
"Quiet!" I said, thumping the underside of the table with my knee, but the antique ash was heavy and Jenks didn't even jump this time. "Don't you have somewhere to go? Gargoyles to spy on or something?" I complained, my face warming. They wouldn't still remember me at Aston's, would they?
"Nope," Jenks said. His face was creased in irritation, and then seeing both of us looking at him, he forced himself to relax. "How about putting some of that sake I smell on my plate, Marsh-man," he said suddenly. It was a change of mood I didn't trust, but I'd go along with it.
Looking chagrined, Marshal pulled a worn thermos from his jacket pocket. "It was supposed to be a surprise," he said dryly as he set it between us.
"I'm surprised," I said as I got up to get the tiny, see-through ceramic teacups that Ceri preferred to my thick-walled mugs. They weren't traditional sake cups, but they looked better than shot glasses.
"That will work," Marshal said as I set them down, and he filled them halfway up before carefully tipping his cup over Jenks's tea bag caddy to fill it right to the top.
This isn't like Kisten, I thought, finding a hint of peace as I held my cup up in a toast. Jenks had never hung around when Kisten and I were together. And though Marshal was fun to look at, I was still too raw to be serious. Not having that will-he-won't-he stress to deal with was an unexpected pleasure.
"To new jobs," he said, and we all took a sip, me holding my breath so I wouldn't cough.
"Good stuff," I said, eyes watering and feeling the nasty stuff burn all the way down.
Marshal set his cup down with a careful slowness, the subtle easing of his posture telling me that just that little bit of alcohol had an effect on him. But hell, sake was potent stuff.
Jenks's wings sped up, and the soft slipping of dust ceased.
"Thanks for letting me come over," Marshal said as he took up his fork and arranged his di
Smirking, Jenks fa
It almost sounded like a warning, and Marshal's laughter stopped short when he saw my mood go pensive. "Ry
I leaned over my plate and took a bite. Good rice sticks together, but I wasn't going to use chopsticks if Marshal wasn't. "Yup," I said when it became obvious that he was waiting for an answer. "He took in Piscary's camarilla, which means he's my roommate's new master vamp, and he came over to find out what my intentions toward Ivy were."
Sort of the truth, but the entire truth was way too embarrassing.
"Oh."
It was an uncomfortable utterance, and I looked up to see his brown eyes holding an uneasy wariness—which made Jenks all the more pleased, apparently, if his wing speed was any indication. "It wasn't a big deal," I said, trying to downplay it. "He got in the way more than anything else."
That didn't help at all, and Marshal swallowed to look ill. I sat back, gripping my plate and reaching for my sake cup. "You want to move to sanctified ground? We can watch TV or something. We have cable out there now."
Marshal shook his head. "No. If you say the demon won't show up, I believe you."
A snicker came from Jenks, ticking me off. I took another swallow of sake, following it with the rice and meat. It didn't burn this time, and I thought as I chewed and swallowed. This stank. Marshal wanted to take me skating. What kind of friend makes a guy hide in a church because she's afraid of demons?
Lips pressed, I got up, feeling the men's eyes on me as I plucked my compact from my bag and one of Ivy's fine-line Sharpies from her cup. I had a stick of yew around here somewhere, and the sake was probably a good substitute for wine.
"Uh, Rache?" Jenks questioned.
"I'm tired of hiding in my church," I said, thinking I'd have to get my scrying mirror out to remember what the glyph looked like if I wanted to reproduce the spell to make a calling circle. "It's right before Halloween, for crying out loud."
"Rache…"
I wouldn't look up. "If you want to come with us and babysit, fine. Al isn't going to show. Besides, he wants me alive, not dead. And I want to go out."
Marshal's fork scraped as he set it down. "What are you doing?"
"Making something I probably shouldn't." Giving up on doing this from memory, I pulled my scrying mirror out from under the island counter and carefully set it down. I harbored a guilty thought that the thing was beautiful, its crystalline lines of the symbols etched into its surface showing a sharp diamond clarity against the wine-colored depths of the glass reflecting reality in deep shades of maroon. Something this evil shouldn't be beautiful. Ceri had helped me make this one after I broke the first over Minias's head. Damn it, why is she risking her soul like this again?