"Jenks!" I said, hands upraised though I couldn't touch him. "It's going to be okay. I promise. We'll work something out. Matalina will be fine!"

Jenks stared at me, his eyes wide. "I… I," he stammered, then with a little moan, he darted up and around to the back of the church.

My hands fell to my sides. I felt so helpless.

"Rachel?" Glenn called from the street, and I turned.

"We've been evicted," I said, moving the paper in explanation. "Thirty days." Anger trickled into me.

Glenn's eyes narrowed. "Don't do it, witch," he warned as he looked at my fists, clenched at my sides.

I gazed down the street at nothing, getting madder. "I'm not going to kill him," I said. "Give me some credit. This is an invitation. If I don't go see him, he'll do something worse." Shit. My mother.

Glenn ducked back in the window. His door opened, and he got out. My blood pressure rose. "Get your little brown-sugar candy ass back in your ugly Grown Victoria," I said. "I know what I'm doing."

My fingers felt the outlines of the focus in my bag as Glenn came to the bottom of the steps and looked up at me, pistol on his hip and attitude all over him like icing on a cake. "Give me your car keys."

"Don't think so."

His eyes narrowed. "Give them to me or I'm going to arrest you myself."

"On what grounds?" I asked belligerently, looking down at him.

"You boots. They're breaking every unwritten fashion law."

Huffing, I looked at them, tilting one onto the toe to see them better. "I'm just going to talk to him, nice and friendly."

Eyebrows high, Glenn put his hand out. "I've seen how you talk to Piscary. Keys?"

My jaw clenched. "Put a car at my mother's house," I demanded, and when he nodded, I shoved the eviction paper into my bag, found my keys, and threw them at him. "Bastard," I muttered as they hit his hand.

"That's my girl," he said as he looked at the zebra-striped car key. "You get them back when you go to class."

I opened the door to the church and put my hand on my hip. "You call me your girl one more time and I'm going to turn your gonads into plums and make jam out of them."

Chuckling, Glenn got into his car.

Entering the dark foyer, I pulled the heavy door shut to make the upper transom windows rattle. My bag held tight to me, I stomped into the sanctuary and headed for my desk. Yanking open drawers, I slammed and banged around until I found my spare set of keys. It had everything the first had plus the key that opened Ivy's safe and one from Nick's apartment, never thrown away. God knows why.

A smug satisfaction tugged the corners of my mouth up into a wicked smile as I dropped the keys into my bag, and I went to the side window to watch Glenn turn the corner at the end of the street. The red of the stained glass gave everything outside an unreal look, like the ever-after.

"Jenks!" I shouted as his car vanished. "If you can hear me, get your best suit on. We have some major ass kissing to do."

Thirty

This isn't the same, I told myself, my two-handed grip tightening on the wheel of my convertible and the wind from the cracked window tugging a few strands from my braid. This wasn't anything like the night I had tried to tag Piscary last year. For one, Jenks was with me this time. I wasn't mad either—not blind mad anyway. It was daylight for at least a few more hours—not that that made a difference. Jenks was with me. I had a nice peace offering to buy my life with, and, lastly, Jenks was with me.

Signaling, I made a quick left turn, heading to the riverfront and going against the predominant flow of traffic. I had friends at Pizza Piscary's, but Piscary was back, and they wouldn't help me. Jenks was my confidence now that the focus was really at the post office, lost in the human bureaucracy so deep and jealously guarded that even the I.S. couldn't reach it. His presence meant more to me than my splat gun, fully stocked and tucked into my bag. I had an invoked pain charm around my neck, hanging outside my shirt so it wouldn't affect me until I needed it. And I had a feeling I was going to need it.

Other than that, I was going in pretty much naked of earth charms. I had a hefty amount of ley line energy spindled in my head, though, and in my pocket a pair of heavy-duty toenail clippers you might use on an elephant, which I hoped would be strong enough to cut an anti—ley line zip-strip. But it was Jenks I was counting on to be the difference between my walking out with a new lease on life or spending an eternity of hell with Piscary or Al.

This was my best option. Trent knew I had the focus. The I.S. wasn't so dense that they hadn't realized it was still in my possession. I wanted Piscary's protection from all of them.

My God. How did I get to this place?

The breeze from my window shifted Jenks's wings. He was sitting on the rearview mirror, facing backward as he gazed vacantly into the past. His features were lined and worried. There wasn't a scrap of red on him—a symbol of his intent. If we lost the garden, the stress might tip Matalina into a downward spiral. I'd be hard-pressed to keep him from trying to kill Piscary if push came to shove. But if push came to shove, killing Piscary might be the only way to survive.

I didn't want to do that. The undead vampire was the only person I knew who could keep the focus safe until it could be hidden again.

Seeing Jenks's misery, I took a breath to ask him about his outfit. I'd never seen it before, sort of a combination of Quen's black uniform with the free-flowing folds of a desert sheik's robes. But Jenks's gaze flicked to mine, making me pause.

"Thanks, Rachel," he said, wings utterly still. "For everything. I want to tell you in case we both don't make it through this."

"Jenks…" I started, and he cut me off with a sharp wing chirp.

"Shut your mouth, witch!" he snapped, though I could tell he wasn't mad. "I want to thank you—this past year has been the best in my life. And not just for me. That sterility wish I got from you is probably why Matalina made it through last winter. The garden and everything that came with working with you?" Jenks's gaze went distant. "Even if they bulldoze everything, I want you to know that it was worth it. My kids know you can make it if you take risks and work hard. That we can work in the system you lunkers set up. That's all a parent really needs to give his kids. That, and how to love someone with all your soul."

This was sounding like a last confession, and I flicked my gaze from the car braking in front of me to him. "Jeez, Jenks. We're going to be fine. I'll give Piscary the focus, and he'll rescind the eviction. And once everyone knows he has the thing, life will go back to normal. Matalina will be fine."

He didn't say anything. Matalina wasn't going to be fine no matter what happened in the next twenty-four hours. But I'd be damned if I wouldn't do what I could to get her through the coming winter. She was not going to hibernate and risk not waking up, that was for sure.

Jenks's wings drooped, and he pulled a fold of fabric up and polished his sword. Just as well. I wasn't enjoying the conversation, and Jenks's misery was making my stomach hurt. I wished he were bigger again, just so I could give him a hug.

Understanding hit me, and I stiffened. This inability to touch was what Ivy lived with every day. She couldn't touch anyone she cared about without her blood lust asserting itself.

We are so screwed up.

I forced myself back from the bumper of the guy in front of me. Piscary's was just ahead, and I wanted to get off the street before the I.S. found me. They were suspiciously absent, and I wondered if they were watching me from a distance to see if I had left to get the focus from someone. I suppose mailing it hadn't been the smartest thing, but I couldn't put it into a bus locker, and giving it to Ceri would've been a mistake. Humanity had steadfastly kept control of the mail system, and even Piscary would think twice about leaning on an overworked employee who might snap and go postal. There were some things even a vampire wouldn't mess with.