"It's going to be okay," I said, wishing I could see the restaurant, but my car was in the way. "Come on, Kisten. Help me get you up." At least I wouldn't have to drag him to the car.

He pushed me off him, then leaned back and used his legs to push himself against my car to get himself upright. "I'm okay," he said, squinting at my worried face, then spitting blood onto the gravel. "Give me… my… lucky stick."

His eyes were on the broken cue, and my lips pressed together. "Just get in the damn car," I swore. "We have to get out of here. It sounds like the I.S. is coming," I fumbled for the door, Jenks getting in the way as he tried to help, dusting Kisten's cuts.

"I want my stick," Kisten said again as he fell into the passenger seat, his bloodied hair smearing the window. "I'm going to… shove it… up Piscary's ass."

Yeah, that sounds likely. But after I put both of his feet into the car and yanked him upright, I scooped up the broken cue and set it next to him. I slammed the door shut, only now glancing at the restaurant. Fear hit me, and I held my arms around myself, feeling the wind tug at my hair. Ivy was down there, lost in the madness that was Piscary. And I was going to have to deal with him for Kisten as well as myself. My gaze went to Kisten, slumped in the front seat. I had to get Ivy out of there. This was insane. Stuff like this shouldn't happen.

The howl of sirens lifted through me, and as traffic passed at a hurried forty-five miles per hour, I paced to my side of the car. "Rachel," Jenks said, getting in my way, "this isn't safe."

"Gee, you think?" I said bitterly, reaching for the handle, but he got in my way again.

"No," he said, hovering so close I was almost cross-eyed. "I mean I don't think you're safe. With Kisten."

I looked at Kisten slumped against the blood-smeared window, then yanked open my door. "This isn't the time for pixy paranoia," I said tightly.

Shedding a bright coppery dust that landed on my hand to make it tingle, he refused to move. "I think Piscary told him to kill you," he pleaded softly, so Kisten couldn't hear. "And when Kisten refused, he threw him out. You heard what Kisten said about Ivy saying no and getting praised and him getting kicked out."

I stopped, my hand on the open door. I felt cold. Jenks landed on the window before me, his wings never slowing. "Think, Rachel," he said, gesturing. "He's been dependent upon Piscary for his entire life. Ivy isn't the only one Piscary's been screwing over, but Kisten has always been pliant, so it doesn't show. Killing you is the only way he might get back in with Piscary. Rache, this isn't safe. Don't trust this."

Jenks's face was pinched in fear. The sound of sirens grew closer. I remembered what Keasley had said about vampires needing someone stronger than they were to protect them against the undead, and my resolve strengthened. I couldn't just walk away. "Watch my back, okay?"

At that, Jenks nodded as if expecting it. "Like you were my last seedling in the garden," he said, then swooped into the car. Taking a last look at the restaurant, I gathered my resolve. I got in, feeling light and unreal. Beside me Kisten groaned.

"Where's my stick?" he breathed, and I jumped when the starter ground as I tried to turn the already-running car over again.

"It's at your feet," I muttered, frustrated. I jammed it into first and lurched forward. I reached the exit before I remembered my seat belt, and I screeched to a halt at the entrance to fasten it. Sitting there watching the traffic pass, I felt my chest clench. I didn't have anywhere to go. In a sudden decision, I pulled out to go the opposite way from the church.

"Where are we going?" Jenks asked, dropping to land on my shoulder as the car settled into its new direction.

I glanced at my keys and Nick's apartment key. Nick had said he'd paid rent through August, and I was willing to bet the place was empty. "To Nick's. I can't take him home," I said, lips barely moving. "Everyone knows that's where I'd take him."

I snuck a glance at Kisten, his eyes swollen shut as he mumbled, "I shouldn't have put in the light display. I should have left the kitchen menu alone."

Jenks was silent. Then in a very small, panicked voice, he said, "I have to go home."

My breath caught, and I exhaled in understanding. Matalina was there alone. If someone showed up at the church looking for Kisten, Jenks's family might be in danger. "Go," I said.

"I can't leave you."

Twisting, I grabbed my bag from the back and fumbled until I had my splat gun on my lap. Eyeing Jenks's expression, torn with indecision, I pulled to the curb and hit the brakes. Kisten weakly braced himself as he shifted forward and back. Horns blew, and I ignored them.

"Get your little pixy ass out of the car and get home," I said, voice even and level as I rolled the window down. "Take care of your family."

"But you're my family, too," he said.

My throat tightened. Every time I screwed up big time, Jenks was gone. "I'll be fine."

"Rache-"

"I'll be fine!" I shouted, frustrated, and Kisten turned to us, squinting and breathing hard. "I'm a witch, damn it! I'm not helpless. I can handle this. Go!"

Jenks lifted into the air. "Call me if you need me. I'll have my phone on."

I managed a smile. "Deal."

He nodded, his face looking old and young all at the same time, and I froze when he flew close, his wings brushing my cheek for an instant. "Thank you," he said.

And then he was gone.

Thirty-one

As expected, I had found Nick's place empty. I didn't think anyone had noticed me helping Kisten inside and up the steps to the one-bedroom apartment. Kisten had revived somewhat on the way, and he had gotten himself into a warm tub of water without my help. There was no shower curtain, and I thought a soak would be better anyway. He was still in there, and if I didn't hear some water draining soon, I was going to go check on him.

The sound of the street noise coming through the open windows was nice. It had smelled musty when I hesitantly opened the door to find empty walls and barren carpet. Clearly, Nick had packed up everything on the solstice, leaving very little to return to if he ever found himself in Cincy again. Where all his stuff was now, I didn't know or care. His mom's, maybe?

I couldn't help but feel betrayed all over again, though there was nothing here to trigger the memories but worn carpet and empty shelves. I tried not to feel bitter as I drank the coffee Nick had left along with a sleeping bag, three cans of stew, and the pan to heat it up in. There was one plate, one bowl, and one set of silverware—nothing he would miss if he never came back, but there if he found himself on the run and needed somewhere to hide for a night or two.

"Bastard," I mumbled, not putting much emotion behind it. If he had just been a thief, I might have been able to see past it, what with my new and improved outlook on life, but he had been buying demon favors from Al with pieces of me. Innocent things, he'd said, worthless. But if they were worthless, why had Al agreed to it?

So I sat at the metal and Formica table that came with the apartment, drinking stale coffee and staring at the stains on the matted carpet. The traffic sounds were both soothing and unfamiliar. Nick's apartment wasn't in a residential area but what passed for downtown Hollows. There was no scent of Nick in the air, yet I could almost feel the stale magic.

I looked at the scratched linoleum for the circle Nick had said was there, scribed with a black-light marker. The memory of standing in Nick's closet to summon Al lifted through me. God, I should've walked away right then, even if calling up Al for information had been my idea. But I hadn't thought anyone who claimed to love me could willingly betray me like that.