Black Magic Sanction

And yet, he was nervous, feeling his pocket for the statue yet again as we slowed at a crosswalk and waited for the light to change. I could see a slice of the square a block up, and anticipation made me shiver. "I'm of a mind we might be able to walk right up," he said softly.

"Not likely," I said, the only reason Pierce could hear me was because I was right next to his ear.

"You go straight here," Jenks said, his voice magnified by "pixy magic" and attracting the attention of the woman next to us. She gave a start until she saw Jenks and me, and then she was charmed, scaring me and putting Jenks in a foul mood if his comment about her perfume and a fairy's hind end was any indication.

Edging away from her thick finger poking toward us, Pierce adjusted his hat and muttered, "I know how to get to the square. The dash-it-all thing is right in front of us."

Impatient, I held my breath against the gas fumes and fidgeted. Jenks could fly me across the street, but I didn't want to leave Pierce and the statue behind. Trent's voice was being piped out over the sound system and a live video was being displayed on the news screen they'd put up the last time they revamped the square.

Son-of-a-bitch elf, I thought, remembering the Pandora charm and his claim that he hadn't tried to kill me. Add to that the fact that he and Nick had been in cahoots to nab me, and I had no problem embarrassing Trent in front of national TV cameras with an erotic statue. Unless Nick had gone to Trent after I hired him? Sort of a last-minute effort to stick me with more trouble? I just didn't know enough.

Impatient, I got to my feet, and Pierce winced when I grabbed his ear for support. But my nervousness shifted to fear when my gaze found a pair of uniforms standing across the street—waiting for us. Damn. I had hoped to get closer before we were IDed.

"Uh, Jenks?" I said, pointing, and the pixy's wings lifted, taking on a more normal hue.

"I see them," Pierce said, having heard my tiny voice. "I'll cross Main instead and come up on the other side of the street."

With a last awkward look at the cooing woman, Pierce sidestepped away and crossed Main, almost jogging to make the light. I clutched his ear, my dress flying up as Jenks took my shoulder to keep me from falling.

It had begun. Steady and sure, the adrenaline seeped in, bringing me alive.

"Good going, Sherlock," Jenks's dry voice said tightly as we reached the curb and Pierce slowed. "They're watching you now because you changed your mind."

"They were watching us before, Jenks. No big diff," I said. "Pierce, you want to shift your look?"

He nodded, and I shivered as a wave of ever-after cascaded over him when he stepped off the curb to cross Government. No one noticed, or at least no one commented on it in the throng of people trying to get to the square. Pierce now looked like Tom Bansen, which might get us stopped, or it might get us through, seeing that the dead witch had also been a corrupt I.S. cop. In either case, if the two officers on the corner had been watching for Pierce, they'd be looking for the wrong man.

We were almost there, but when I looked back, they were following us on the other side of the street. "It didn't work!" I shouted, and Pierce winced.

"I see them," he said, not looking. "I opine things will get rough from here. Rachel, watch yourself. I'll get you as close as I can."

"No black magic!" I exclaimed, and he sighed.

Jostled, we reached the corner of Fifth and Main, stymied by the light again. The square was right in front of us, and Trent's speech was in full swing. The cops shadowing us were clearly from the I.S., and I sca

The skin around Pierce's eyes crinkled as he glanced at the waiting I.S. officers. "Jenks, we're going to be here a moment. Why don't you see what they're talking about? Make yourself useful, little man?"

Snarling something lost in the roar of a bus, Jenks darted over the organized chaos. I felt naked without him, and I held Pierce's ear more tightly. "News vans, news vans," I murmured, feeling better when I spotted them. I hated news vans, but they were going to save my butt today. The coven could be anywhere. If they didn't show, I was screwed.

My attention went to Trent, at the podium. Quen was behind him, and I felt a jump of worry. The man was better than me at just about everything. "I have enjoyed serving you in the capacity of councilman," Trent was saying, "and could be happy for years more, but I see the corruption, I hear your frustration, and I want to do more. It is my responsibility to do more!"

The crowd liked that, and I jumped when Jenks landed next to me with a clatter of wings. "I don't know how, but they know it's you, Rache."

Nick maybe? I thought, but I didn't say it aloud.

"We've got two I.S. agents ahead of us, four behind, and the two on the right," Jenks continued. "Trent has his staff on the stage, but it's mixed up with I.S. people. I say we get our asses up there, and trust wonder ghost here to join us when he can."

Pierce tried to look at us, failing. "I can get you across the street."

He looked almost eager for a fight, and I became even more nervous. Damn it, if Pierce messed this up I was going to be pissed! "No black magic!" I demanded, and his jaw clenched. "I mean it! The coven is out there. No black magic! If you can't do it the way I want, I'm not going to let you help me!"

"Let me help you?" he muttered, clearly upset. "I opine you wouldn't know help if it smacked you in the face. Stubborn, bullheaded, wild fey thing of a woman."

I frowned, teeth clenched. Clearly we had a few things to work out. But the crossing light had switched. I wobbled when Pierce took a step, and Jenks's wings hummed, ready to snatch me if I fell. The pavement threw up a wave of heat, buoying Jenks up like a balloon, and he finally took to the air to maintain his balance. Ahead of us waited two more cops. Vamps by the looks of it.

"Steady, Rache," Jenks said. "I'll be with you the entire time."

"Don't you patronize me, too," I said, heart beating fast. How did he survive being so small?

From the stage, Trent was saying, "My family has lived on this land for three generations. In that time, Cinci

Head down, Pierce angled to get away from the cops, but it wasn't going to happen.

"Hey, you with the hat!"

"I'll get to the stage, Rachel. Don't worry," Pierce whispered, and I shrieked as Jenks snatched me around the waist and darted off. Pierce went the other way, gone in an instant.

"Get the pixy!" rang out, but Jenks and I were across the street and in the square, flying through a forest of polyester slacks.

"Up! Go up!" I shrilled, terrified he was going to run into something, but Jenks laughed.

"They can't hit us down here," he said, and I shrieked, my legs swinging when he darted suddenly to the right. I caught a whiff of ozone. There was an ugly splat, and a woman screamed in pain. Great, they were using spells.

"Son of a Tink," Jenks muttered. I never even saw what it was—Jenks was already three people deeper into the crowd. He went low, wings clattering as the shade of lunkers cooled us. I hung from Jenks's arms, helpless, wide eyed, and feeling like I was on a roller coaster with no brakes. "Hold on!" he shouted as he jerked to a stop.