Where Demons Dare. Kim Harrison

lack of Inderlander talents.

      “Thanks, I’ll do that,” I said as David followed his old partner out and shut the door.

      Ivy frowned at the dark foyer, sipping her drink as one foot bobbed up and down. Seeing me track the motion, she forced it still. I jumped at the high-pitched burst of noise from my desk, eyes widening as four streaks of silver raced out from it and into the back of the church. A crash brought me around in my seat, and I wondered what had just fallen off the overhead rack in the kitchen.

      And so it begins. …

      “Jack!” came Matalina’s shrill cry, and she zipped out of the desk after them. Jenks intercepted her, and the two had a rapid high-pitched discussion in the hallway punctuated by bursts of ultrasonic sound that made my head hurt.

      “Honey,” Jenks coaxed when she slowed enough that we could hear them again. “Boys will be boys. I’ll talk to them and make them apologize.”

      “What if they had done that when your cat came in!” she shrilled. “What then?”

      “But they didn’t,” he soothed. “They waited until she was secure.”

      Hand shaking as she pointed to the back of the church, she took a breath to start in again, gulping it back when Jenks kissed her soundly, wrapping her slim form in his arms and body, their wings somehow not tangling as they hovered in the hallway.

      “I’ll take care of it, love,” he said when they parted, his emotion so earnest that I dropped my eyes, embarrassed. Matalina fled to the desk in a dusting of mortified red, and after grinning at us in some masculine display of … masculinity, Jenks flew to the back of the church.

      “Jack!” he shouted, the dust slipping from him a brilliant gold. “You know better than that. Get your brothers and get out here. If I have to dig you out, I’m going to clip your wings!”

      “Huh.” Ivy’s long fingers carefully picked up a cracker. “I’ll have to try that.”

      “What?” I asked, shifting to prop my clipboard up on my knees.

      Ivy blinked slowly. “Kissing someone from agitation into bliss.”

      Her smile widened to show a slip of teeth, and a sliver of ice dropped down my spine. Fear mixed with anticipation, as unstoppable as jerking my hand from a flame. And Ivy could sense it as easily as she could see my embarrassed flush.

      Pulling herself upright, she stood. I blinked up at her as she stretched, and brushing past me in a wave of vampire incense, she headed for the door as the doorbell rang.

      “I got it,” she said, her pace provocative. “David left his hat.”

      My exhaled breath was slow and long. Damn it, I was not an adrenaline junkie. And Ivy knew we weren’t going to shift our relationship in either direction. Still … the potential was there, and I hated that she could flip switches in me as easily as I could flip them in her. Just ’cause you can do something, doesn’t mean you should, right?

      Exasperated with myself, I grabbed the empty cracker plate and headed for the kitchen. Maybe I needed a midnight run myself to clear my head of all the vamp pheromones in there.

      “Cat in the house!” came Ivy’s call, and then a different voice filtered in, stopping me cold.

      “Hi, I’m Marshal.”

      If the mellow, attractive voice hadn’t jerked me to a halt, the name would have, and I spun in the hallway.

      “You must be Ivy,” the man added. “Is Rachel in?”

       Four

      “Marshal?” I exclaimed as my thoughts realigned and I figured out who was standing in our threshold. “What are you doing here?” I added as I headed back.

      He shrugged and smiled, and the cracker plate dangled from my hand as I pushed past a belligerent Ivy to give him a one-armed hug. Dropping back a step, I warmed, but damn, it was good to see him. I had felt really guilty watching him swim back to his boat last spring, having to go on hearsay that he made it back all right and that the Mackinaw Weres were leaving him alone. But not contacting him had been the best thing to ensure his anonymity and safety.

      The tall, wide-shouldered man continued to grin. “Jenks left his hat on my boat,” he said, extending the red leather cap to me.

      “You did not come all the way down here for that,” I said as I took it, then squinted at the dark shadow of an infant beard on him. “You’ve got hair! When did you get hair?”

      Taking off his knitted cap, he ducked his head to show its fuzz. “Last week. I brought the boat in for the season, and when I’m not wearing a wet suit, I can let it all grow back.” His brown eyes pinched in mock agony. “I itch like crazy. Everywhere.”

      Ivy had moved back a step, and setting the cracker plate on the table beside the door, I took his arm and pulled him in. The scent of his short wool coat was strong, and I breathed it in, thinking I could smell gas fumes mixing with the strong redwood smell that meant witch. “Come on in,” I said, waiting for him to finish wiping his boots on the mat before he followed me into the sanctuary.

      “Ivy, this is Marshal,” I said, seeing her with her arms crossed over her middle and David’s hat in her grip. “The guy who got me out to the island at Mackinaw and let me run off with his diving gear. Remember?” It sounded stupid, but she hadn’t said anything yet, and I was getting nervous.

      Ivy’s eye twitched. “Of course. But Jenks and I didn’t see him at the high school pool when we returned his stuff, so I never met him. It’s a pleasure.” Dropping David’s hat on the small table beside the door, she extended her hand, and Marshal took it. He was still smiling, but it was growing thin.

      “Well, this is it,” I said, gesturing to the sanctuary and the rest of the unseen church. “Proof that I’m not crazy. You want to sit down? You don’t have to leave right away, do you? Jenks will want to say hi.” I was babbling, but Ivy wasn’t being nice, and she’d already driven one man out of the church tonight.

      “Sure. I can stay for a minute.” Marshal took his coat off as he followed me to the furniture clustered in the corner. I watched him take a deep breath of the chili-scented air, and I wondered if he’d stay if I asked. Plopping myself down in my chair, I gave him a once-over as Marshal eased his lean swimmer’s body down to the edge of the couch. Clearly not yet ready to relax, the tall man sat on the edge with his arms flat on his legs.

      Marshal was wearing jeans and a dark green pullover that had a backwoods look to it, the color going well with his honey-colored skin. He looked great sitting there, even if his eyebrows weren’t grown in yet and he’d nicked himself shaving. I remembered how utterly in control he had looked on his boat, dressed in a swimsuit and an unzipped red windbreaker that showed skin so smooth it glistened and beautiful, beautiful abs. God, he had had nice abs. Must be from all the swimming.

      Suddenly shocked, I froze. Guilt turned my skin cold, and I settled into my chair, heartache riding high where enthusiasm had just flowed. I had loved Kisten. I still loved him. That I’d forgotten for even an instant was both a surprise and a pain. I’d been listening to Ivy and Jenks long enough to know this was part of my pattern of getting hurt and then finding someone to hide the pain with, but I wasn’t going to be that person anymore. I couldn’t afford to be. And if I saw it, I could stop it.

      But it was really good to see Marshal. He was proof that I didn’t kill everyone I came in contact with, and that was a welcome relief.

      “Uh,” I stammered when I realized no one was talking. “I think my old boyfriend stole some of your gear before he went off the bridge. Sorry.”

      Marshal’s wandering attention lighted briefly on the bruise on my neck before rising to my eyes. I think he recognized something