"First smart thing she's done all week," Jenks said, and I squinted at him.
"Alone," I added, and he made a face at me before darting to Ivy's shoulder to sulk. The last thing I wanted was Jenks making smart-ass remarks as I asked Wayde to step it up.
"Uh, before you go, have you given any more thought to making that list of, ah, curses?" Glenn asked hesitantly.
I came to an abrupt halt six inches in front of him, since he wasn't moving out of the doorway. "I've thought about it, and I'm not doing it," I said, trying to be calm and reasonable, but I'd just about had it.
"Rache is not making you no list," Jenks said hotly, making Ivy brush his dust from her.
"Why not?" Glenn asked, and Ivy cleared her throat in warning. "No, really," Glenn asked again, appearing truly at a loss. "If it's common knowledge, what's the big deal?"
I refused to back up, and my face flushed as I put my hands on my hips. "It's not all common knowledge," I finally said, "and what they don't know, I don't want to tell them. Move, will you? I have to talk to my bodyguard about upping his surveillance."
Glenn glanced at Ivy, then said to me, "Rachel, I'm under a lot of pressure here."
"Oh, for the love of Tink!" Jenks said.
"Why is everyone afraid of what I can do all of a sudden?" I exclaimed, backing up to the center counter.
Again glancing at Ivy to gauge her control, Glenn caught his own rising temper, calmly saying, "Because there's a goat man strung up in a city park, surrounded by demon symbols and marked with the demon word to make it public. The sooner you give them the list, the sooner you can get on with your life."
My lips pressed together as I remembered the DMV office. I didn't want to give up that part of myself. Not to the I.S. or the FIB, where anything or anyone would have access to it.
Jenks darted into the air when Ivy jerked into motion, but she was only going to the window, jamming it all the way open to get a better airflow. The autumn-night rain slipped in with the scent of decaying leaves, and my shoulders lost most of their tension.
"People are scared," Glenn said, calm again and not simply masking his anger. "You say you can do demon magic but won't. You have demon books you won't share the contents of. You're registered in their database."
"That wasn't my idea," I muttered. "And I've got almost no magic anymore. See? I neutered myself!" Angry, I shifted my weight to my other foot and glared up at him. "There's nothing to be afraid of," I finished, depression starting to take hold.
"Rachel, I'm sorry," he said when he saw my mood shift. "I'm not afraid of you, but it's easy to be scared. Understanding is harder. Just make the list. I don't care if it's complete. I'll take it in, and then you can get your life back."
I looked at Ivy, my gut saying no even if it sounded easy. I was getting tired of having to bargain for every little thing I deserved, like a license or the ability to make a plane reservation. But still . . . "And when they find out I didn't tell them everything, they'll use that against me," I said softly. "No."
"What is the problem?" Glenn said. "Don't get mad. I'm trying to understand!"
He really was, and Ivy moved from the window to tug him out of my way and back to his chair. "She's right," she whispered in his ear, and I felt my own neck start to tingle. "If anything ever comes across an I.S. desk that looks like something Rachel admits she can do, they'll say it's her even if she's wearing charmed silver, because she's an easy target."
Glenn slumped, looking beaten as he stared at the floor. "Okay," he said, then looked at me. "I see where you're coming from, but I don't agree with it. I'll stall them. Asking you for it wasn't my idea."
Finally I could smile. "I know. I'll be right back. Save me a slice of pizza, okay?"
"Let me know if Wayde needs anything from me," Glenn said, but I was already in the hall, headed for the stairway. Ivy had been kicking out I'm-hungry pheromones for at least an hour, and I had to get out of there for a while.
"Will do!" I shouted over my shoulder, making my sure way through the dark. There was no way I was going to make a list for the FIB or the I.S. I'd rather live off the grid. Driving was overrated, and maybe I wouldn't have to pay taxes this year.
I couldn't help but wonder, though, if what I was really fleeing was seeing Glenn and Ivy - happy together - and knowing it could have been me.
Chapter Five
Arms swinging, I entered the sanctuary, dimly lit by the TV, on in the corner where the new furniture set was. Pixies perched on the backs of the chairs in rows, cheering when the crocodile took down the zebra. Pixies and nature shows went hand in hand. Who knew?
I wasn't in the best of moods. I knew Wayde was going to take whatever I said as me telling him he wasn't good at his job. He was, but he needed to be better than good until this was over. The sight of my desk, unused and gathering dust, didn't help. Ivy's piano, seldom played but utterly dust free, didn't help, either. Kisten's pool table, the felt still burned and charred from a "white" charm a coven member had thrown at me, slid my mood clear back into depressed.
"I'm sorry, Kisten," I whispered, touching it as I passed it on the way to the foyer and the narrow staircase to the belfry. I had meant to get it refelted a long time ago, but life kept interfering. I'll call the rec place right after I call Marshal, I thought, feeling a pang of guilt. Marshal probably wouldn't return my call, but it was either him or trusting the I.S.
I entered the dark foyer, still lacking a light and pitch-black. How long had I been promising myself to wire one in? I wondered, counting it in years now.
I can do better than this, I thought as I pulled the narrow door to the stairway open with a soft creak, and a faint tap, tap, tap echoed down in the slightly cooler air smelling of wet shingles. Wayde was working on his room again, and I started up, thinking there had been too many things I wanted to do, and none of them was getting done. I've got to start taking care of things, I thought, vowing to do something this time.
"Hi, Ms. Morgan!" a high, resonant voice called out, and I jumped, nearly falling backward down the stairs.
"Holy crap, Bis!" I exclaimed, looking up to see the cat-size gargoyle clinging to the sloping ceiling like a weird bat. "You startled me!"
The small teenager grinned to show his black teeth, his red eyes glowing slightly in the dim light of the stairway. He had lightened his pebble-gray skin to match the raw wood brown of the walls, and his clawed hands and feet dug in as he wheezed/laughed at me. As I watched, his skin shifted color again, and he swished his lionlike tail. It even had a tuft on the end that matched the long hair on his ears. It helped him balance in flight, apparently.