"Why did you have me come out here, then?" I chided him. "I didn't to a flipping thing."

His dark neck reddened, and I followed him to the FIB vehicle. Behind us was the chatter of the ambulance guys getting to their feet to move the body to the city morgue. "I wanted to see Denon's reaction to you," he muttered.

"You got me out here because you wanted to see Denon's reaction?" I exclaimed, and several heads turned. The FIB officers were smiling like it was a joke—and I was the butt of it.

Inclining his head in amusement, Glenn took my arm. "Cut me some slack, Rachel," he said. "You saw him in the morgue. He didn't want you there and was afraid you'd see something us poor humans would miss. That points to obstruction of justice. Someone is looking for that statue you have, and you're damned lucky they aren't looking at you. Is it still in the mail system? "

I nodded, thinking it would be a mistake to do otherwise. Glenn's grip tightened as he walked us forward. "I could force you to give it to me," he said.

Ticked, I jerked away from him and stopped. "I brought that jar of salsa you wanted," I said, almost loud enough for the surrounding FIB officers to hear, and the man went gray. It wasn't my threat of withholding it but that I'd make public he liked tomatoes. Yeah, it was that bad.

"That's low," Glenn said, his eyes coming back to mine.

"Then find someone else to pimp your ketchup," I said, guilt making me flush.

Jenks dropped from the trees, startling the FIB officer. "Rache," the pixy said, giving no indication of what he thought of my blackmail, "I'll get you home, then go to the morgue. I want to see if the body has needle marks. I can be back before you go to talk to Mr. Ray."

I might have to be at the church alone with Ivy, was my first thought. "Sounds good," I said, then feeling bad, I whispered to Glenn, "I was serious about the salsa. You want it now?"

He tightened his jaw, clearly angry, and Jenks laughed. "Give it up, you lousy cookie," the pixy cajoled. "You have no right to the focus, and you know it."

"It's jalapeño," I coaxed. "Burn your freaking eyeballs out of their sockets."

Glenn's irate look faltered, and when Jenks nodded in encouragement, Glenn licked his lips. "Jalapeño?" he murmured, his focus blurring.

"A gallon," I said, feeling the thrill of the deal. "Do you find any zip-strips?"

Glenn's awareness abruptly cleared. "I'm working on them, but it's going to take some time. Do you want a pair of cuffs in the meanwhile?"

"Sure," I said, though they wouldn't stop a ley line witch. "I lost the first pair you gave me in the ever-after." Man… I missed my old cuffs with the charms and everything. Maybe I could put the right spells into the decorative charms Kisten had given me with my bracelet. I'd have to ask what kind of metal they were.

Glenn looked guilty as he scanned the people behind me collecting data. "I need a few days," he said, his lips barely moving as he slipped me his cuffs. "Can you hold on to it for me?"

I nodded as I tucked the sliding metal in my bag, then turned my attention to Jenks. "Ready?"

The pixy rose up. "See you at the car." His wings blurred, and then he was gone, heading across the cemetery at head height, dodging tombstones like a hummingbird on a mission.

Glenn's lips pressed, and, seeing a coming argument, I warmed. "Jenks is running vanguard for me," I said, tossing my hair behind my shoulder. "We got it covered." I have to get to that class. This is really getting old.

"Rachel?"

I halted my motion to leave, turning to arch my eyebrows at him.

"Take it easy," he said, a hand in the air in surrender. "Call me if you need bail."

My smile deepened. "Thanks, Glenn," I said, glad the ugly scene about the focus had been averted. "I'm going to class tonight. Really."

"Do that," he said, then turned back to his team, calling for some guy named Parker.

I felt funny walking across the grass between the grave markers to the car, plodding in Jenks's lightning-fast wake. My steps were small as I trudged up the hill, my head down to look for those flat markers. I swung my bag around and dug for my zebra-striped car key, but when I came around the corner of the large marker my car was behind, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Someone was messing with my backseat.

Sixteen

"Hey!" I said belligerently, and the jeans-clad man looked up from where he'd been leaning into the backseat, messing with Glenn's salsa. It was Tom, and my jaw dropped. "What are you doing?" I came forward, wobbling on one of those flush grave markers.

Tom stepped from the car, and I halted before him, puffing. There was a hint of anger and a lot of distain in his blue eyes. I was looking into the sun to see him, and it ticked me off.

"I've been asked to talk to you," he said, and I snickered. Now he wants to talk? He was standing before my car, though, and didn't look like he was going to move without a little encouragement. But when I saw Jenks unconscious on the dash with his dragonfly wings splayed out in the sun, I was more than ready to apply said encouragement.

My pulse leapt, fueled by anger and fear. "What did you do to Jenks? "

The man started at the threat in my voice. Moving back a step, he almost got out of the way. "I didn't want him to overhear our conversation."

My stomach clenched in fear. "You knocked him out? You knocked Jenks out to get rid of him?" I took a step forward, and Tom retreated. "You son of a bastard."

Yeah, I was mixing my phrases, but I was really mad.

Eyes wide in surprise, Tom took another step back.

"He's a person, you know!" I said, my face hot. "He would have left if you asked." Worried, I leaned into my car and carefully edged Jenks into my palm before his wings burned from the hot dash. His small body was limp and felt far too light. I remembered him carrying me when I'd been weak from blood loss, and a panicked fear slid through me. Horror joined it when I saw that he was bleeding. "What did you do?" I exclaimed. "He's bleeding from his ears!"

The ley line witch stood before me, three feet back with his hands behind him. "Rachel Morgan, I would like to ask—"

Tension pulling tight through me, I held Jenks close. "What did you do to Jenks! Do you know how dangerous it is for a pixy to lose blood?"

"Ms. Morgan," Tom interrupted, "this is more important than your backup."

I couldn't seem to get enough air. "He is my friend!" I exclaimed. "He's not a tissue!"

I stepped forward, and Tom retreated. "Don't touch me," he warned.

But I got in his face, shouting, "I care more about this pixy's hangnail than your whole stinking life, you sanctimonious little prick. What did you do to him?"

"Stay back," he said, backing away even farther with his hands in front of him.

"I'll touch my foot to your face if you don't take off that spell!" with Jenks held carefully to my middle in my cupped hand, I took another threatening step. The hair on my arms pricked when Tom tapped a line, and before he could say or do anything, I lunged forward, betting he was setting a circle. A circle can't form through a person coated in an aura but will slide to either the front or the back of him or her. I had a fifty-fifty chance. I would either make it into his circle or crack my nose open running into it as Minias had.

I jolted, the electric taste of tinfoil stabbing through my teeth. Gasping, I hunched over Jenks. Tom's power iced through me, and for an instant the world went black. My chi filled from him to me in an eerie sensation of wrongness. It overflowed, the excess running to spindle in my mind, rolling the power of the line into storage. I jerked, tying to break the connection.