White Witch, Black Curse

Edden stopped. Not looking at me, his eyes tracked the ambulance people, packing up. Behind him, Al was strolling forward, and Pierce was hotfooting it to us as well. "Don't you love how Rachel sides with the underdog?" the demon said, then brushed the garden of tiny blue butterflies from his sleeve. They fluttered to the ground, dead before they touched the snow-caked cobbles. "It's going to kill her someday," he said lightly, bending to pick one up. "But not tonight," he added as he pulled my hand from my coat pocket to put a chrysalis into it, curving my cold fingers protectively around it.

I glanced at the blue chrysalis, then shoved it into my coat pocket to deal with later. "Edden…," I pleaded.

Wincing, he sighed. Five steps away, someone waited for him with a clipboard. "I can't promise Mia anything. Especially now. Rachel, go home."

I licked my lips and the wind made them into ice. "You can't prove she did this."

"I can't prove Ms. Walker did either. Go home." I hesitated, and he exclaimed, "Rachel, go home!"

"Bad dog," Al whispered, mocking me, and my face flamed. Pierce slid up beside us, and I gritted my teeth, not liking the ghost seeing me being treated like this.

"Fine," I said bitterly. "Do what you want." This is a crappy New Year's. "Ivy, I'm going home. Are you staying?"

Ivy looked from Pierce to the beaming demon. "Ah, you don't mind if I hang here for a while, do you? Glenn wants my opinion on something."

Crime scene slut, I thought bitterly, more than a little jealous that they would let her stay but wanted me to leave. I didn't want to be alone in a car with Al and Pierce, but I gave her a wave good-bye and turned. Edden had already walked away in a huff, and Glenn was waiting uncomfortably for Ivy.

Ticked, I turned my back on all of them and started walking.

Twenty-nine

This was the second time I had suffered a demon in the back of my car, and I didn't like it any better than the first. Al was more obnoxious than Minias had been, leaning forward between Pierce and me to point out red lights and shortcuts through human and Inderland slums that only an idiot would take this time of night—though with a demon along, it might be safe. The smell of burnt amber slowly grew in my small car despite whatever charm he was using, but I didn't dare crack a window to let in the freezing night. Though the heater was cranked, Jenks was still cold. He really shouldn't have been out of my bag, much less sitting on the rearview mirror.

"You could have made that light if you had gunned it," Al said.

No one was behind me, and I let the car coast forward a foot to the red light before I jammed on the brakes. Al's nose smacked into the headrest, and Pierce's arm, already extended to brace himself against the dash, stiffened. "I'm driving," I muttered with an apologetic glance at Jenks. My toes are freezing in these stupid heels. What was I thinking?

"Yes, but you're not doing it properly," the demon protested, in a better humor than I liked. He hadn't given me any trouble about getting in the backseat, but maybe he could keep a better eye on Pierce that way. Honestly, the man was not going to hurt me. Even now, when I glanced at him, his frustrated expression shifted to one of anxious hope.

"Mistress witch," he said as our eyes met, and my phone vibrated, almost unheard.

"Do you know how to get that?" I asked him, giving Al's hand a tart smack when he reached for it in my bag. The demon had gone back to looking like himself, and my fingers were soundless as they hit his white-gloved, thick hand.

The light changed, and I eased forward, driving carefully as it was icy near the bridge.

"I'll help him," Jenks said, dropping down into my bag. "You've seen Rachel use it, right?" he said sarcastically. "You've been spying on us for a year."

Pierce frowned as he pulled the slim pink phone from my bag. "It's not a powerful trick," he said indignantly. "And I've not been spying. Rachel, if I could explain."

"Just open the top, okay?" Jenks said, and I frowned at him to be a little nicer.

The scent of burnt amber grew when Al put the flat of his arms on the two seats to make a bridge for his head to rest on. "May I use your phone when he's done?" he asked sweetly.

I debated what might happen if I slammed the brakes on again. "No. Sit the way you're supposed to, or we're going to get pulled over for a Breathalyzer."

"No fun," he simpered, slumping back.

I breathed easier, wishing Pierce would simply leave so I could go home and forget this day had ever happened. What a waste.

From the backseat came Al, humming the tune to Jeopardy! until Pierce found the seam and wrangled the top open. Motions hesitant, he went to put it to his ear, stopping when Jenks hovered before the phone, hands on his hips as he barked, "This is Rachel's secretary. The lazy-ass witch is currently busy. Can I take a message?"