Cormel waved a hand in dismissal, his expression irate. "Then you really have nothing," he said, holding out his hand to lure her into sitting back down. "I'm sure the answer is here, but I have exhausted my leads. I'm not asking the right person. You could, though."

Ivy exhaled to try to find her composure. "And who is the right person?" she asked as she took his grip and sat.

"Skimmer," Cormel said, and my head came up sharply. "She knows all Piscary's political secrets. Lawyers…" The vampire sighed expressively.

"Skimmer is in jail," Jenks said as he darted back to the fire. "She won't see Ivy."

Ivy lowered her head, her brow pinched. Skimmer's refusal was tearing her up.

"She might see you if Rachel goes with you," Rynn Cormel suggested, and the hope of a possibility smoothed Ivy's expression. My mouth, though, went dry.

"You think it will make a difference?" I asked.

He shrugged as he sipped his wine. "She doesn't want Ivy to see her in her failure. But I expect she has a few words to say to you."

Jenks's breath hissed in, but Rynn was right. Ivy's face held the hope that Skimmer would talk to her, and I set my dislike for the petite, dangerous vampire aside. For Ivy. I would talk to her for Ivy. And to find out who killed Kisten. "It's worth trying," I said, thinking that going in there with a thin aura wasn't the best idea in the world.

Cormel shifted his feet uneasily. It was subtle, and he probably didn't even know he had done it, but I saw it, and so did Jenks. "Good," he said, as if everything had been decided. "I do believe there is some sushi headed our way."

His words were clearly a signal, since the doors to the kitchen promptly swung open and Jeff and another vamp, in an apron, came out with trays. Jenks's wings were a shimmer of motion though he hadn't moved from the arm of the couch. "I didn't know you liked sushi," I said.

"I don't, but there's honey in one of the dipping sauces."

"Jenks," I warned as Cormel and Ivy made a spot on the coffee table before the fire.

"Wha-a-a-a-at," he complained, his wings slowing until I could almost see the red bit of tape. "I wasn't going to eat any. I was going to take it home for Matalina. It helps her sleep better." And seeing the flicker of concern in his eyes, I believed him.

The trays looked fabulous, and glad now I'd said yes to dinner, I took up my chopsticks, pleased I didn't have to break them apart to use them. They looked expensive. All we had at home were the ones we saved from takeout.

I watched Ivy handle her sticks with the fluency of a native language, the extensions of her fingers taking three different sashimi and several rolls with cream cheese and what looked like tuna. Remembering our first disastrous dinner as roommates, I kept my eyes down and put a few bites on my plate followed by lots of ginger. Jenks hovered over an amber sauce, and I put some on my plate, making sure he knew it was for him by pointing at him with the sticks—though how he was going to get it home was beyond me.

Cormel was still fussing with the sauces by the time Ivy and I had retreated with full plates. "I'm so pleased you stayed," he said as he moved with that eerie vampire speed and put all of three bites on his plate. "Sushi alone is not the same. You never get the variety."

Ivy was smiling, but the display of vampiric speed had me on edge. I didn't need the reminder that he was stronger than me. And he didn't need to eat. Why he was sort of bothered me.

"I love sushi," I said, not wanting him to guess he had unnerved me. "Since I was a kid."

"Really." Cormel put a bite into his mouth and chewed. "I'm surprised."

"I was eight," I said, taking a slice of ginger and enjoying the sweet zing. "I thought I was dying. Well, I was, but I didn't know I was going to get better. My brother went on this big push for me to do everything. Made it his goal one summer."

My fumbling for a roll slowed as I thought about the girl in the hospital and the look in her eyes. I should go back and tell her the chance was real. If I survived, then she had a chance. I didn't even know her name.

"You still are, you know," Cormel said, startling me.

"Dying?" I blurted, and he laughed. Ivy smiled thinly, not appreciating the joke.

"I suppose," he said, eyes on his second roll. "I'm the only one here not performing that particular trick anymore, but what I meant was, you're still pushing to try new things."

My eyes flicked to Ivy. "No, I'm not."

Ivy shifted uncomfortably between us. Determined to not back down, I took one of the more mundane crunchy pieces of fried shrimp and ate it with a great deal of noise.

Cormel smiled and set his plate aside, having eaten only one roll. "You're in a tight spot, Rachel, and I'm curious as to what your plan is for getting out."

Jenks clattered his wings in warning, and the tension went up. "I'll get the AMA whether you help me or not—" I started, and he cut me off.

"I promised you your form, and you will have it," he said, sounding insulted. "That's short-term survival, and I'm talking progress. Moving forward. Establishing yourself in a safe, long-term situation." He took his glass and sipped from it. "You have been seen consorting with demons. You were refused traditional treatment on the witch floors because of your demon scars. What do you think that means?"

"It means they're idiots." My chin rose, and I set the plate of sushi down. "Human medicine worked fine."

"Humans don't like demons any more than anyone else," he said. "Less. If you continue dealing with them openly, you will be silenced. Probably by witches."

I laughed at that. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, waving my sticks about. "I don't know where you're getting your info, but witches don't do that to each other. They never have."

"And you know that how?" he asked. "Even so, you're acting out of character, and that will force them to do the same."

I made a scoffing sound, and returned to eating. Why do they make these rolls so darn big? I look like a freaking squirrel.

"Be cautious, Rachel," Cormel said, and I ignored him, continuing to try to chew a wad of rice and seaweed too big for my mouth. "Humans are vicious when cornered. That's why they survive and we don't. They came first, and they will probably persist long after we're gone. Rats, cockroaches, and humans."

Ivy rolled her eyes and ate a glob of the green stuff. Seeing her disbelief, Cormel smiled. "Ivy disagrees," he said, "but I've had to speak favorably for you more than once."

My motion to dip my last cucumber roll hesitated. "I never asked you to do that."

"It wasn't your place to give me permission," he said. "I'm not telling you this so you feel you owe me a debt, but to let you know your situation. If the witches don't react to you openly trafficking with demons, then the vampires will be pressed into it for another reason."

I set my sticks down, feeling sick. I had no choice but to traffic with demons, having bought Trent's freedom from them with a promise to be Al's student. "If you're not upset about the demons, then what's bothering you?" I asked, feeling trapped and angry.

"What you're doing to help the elves, of course."

Ivy exhaled, and I suddenly got it. "Oh." I took a steadying breath and pushed my plate away. I wasn't hungry anymore. Piscary had killed my dad and Trent's father for simply trying to help the elves. I had gone past trying and had actually saved them. Well, I'd gotten the sample that Trent used to do it.

"There have been three elf conceptions in the last three months," Cormel said, and my thoughts flew to Ceri. "All healthy from what I understand. Their population is going to slowly rise. The Weres, too, are poised to explode under the right circumstances. You can understand why the vampires are slightly concerned."