The Good, The Bad and The Undead. Ким Харрисон

the temptation of Trent’s offer myself. Seeing Sara Jane under control again, I asked, “You said he works at Pizza Piscary’s?”

      She nodded. “He’s a driver. That’s how we met.” She bit her lip and dropped her eyes.

      The lie-detecting amulet was a steady green. Piscary’s was an Inderland eatery serving everything from tomato soup to gourmet cheesecake. Piscary himself was said to be one of Cincinnati’s master vampires. Nice enough, from what I’d heard: not greedy with his vamp takes, eventempered, on record as being dead for the last three hundred years. ’Course, he was probably older than that, and the nicer and more civilized an undead vampire seemed, the more depraved he or she generally was. My roommate thought of him as sort of a friendly uncle, which made me feel oh-so-warm and fuzzy inside.

      I handed Sara Jane another tissue, and she smiled weakly. “I can go out to his apartment today,” I said. “Do you think you could meet me there with the key? Sometimes a professional can spot things others miss.” Jenks snorted, and I shifted my legs, bumping the underside of the table to make him dart into the air.

      Sara Jane showed relief. “Oh, thank you, Ms. Morgan,” she gushed. “I can go right now. I just have to call my employer and let him know I’ll be a little late.” She gripped her purse, looking like she was ready to fly out of the room. “Mr. Kalamack told me to take all the time I need this afternoon.”

      I glanced at Jenks’s attention-getting buzz. He had a worried I-told-you-so look. How nice of Trent to let his secretary take all the time she needs to find her boyfriend when he’s probably stuffed in a closet so she’ll keep her mouth shut. “Ah, let’s make it tonight,” I said, thinking of my fish. “I need to look up a few things.” And whip up a few antigoon spells, check my splat gun, and collect my fee…

      “Of course,” she said, settling back as her expression clouded.

      “And if nothing turns up there, we’ll go on to the next step.” I tried to make my smile reassuring. “I’ll meet you at Dan’s apartment a little after eight?”

      Hearing the dismissal in my voice, she nodded and stood. Jenks flitted into the air, and I rose as well. “All right,” she said. “It’s out at Redwood—”

      Edden shuffled his feet. “I’ll tell Ms. Morgan where it is, Ms. Gradenko.”

      “Yes. Thank you.” Her smile was starting to look stilted. “I’m just so worried…”

      I disguised putting my lie-detecting amulet away by digging through my bag and pulling out one of my cards. “Please let me or the FIB know if you hear from him in the meantime,” I said as I handed it to her. Ivy had the cards professionally printed, and they looked slick.

      “Yes. I will,” she murmured, her lips moving as she read VAMPIRIC CHARMS, the name Nick had given my and Ivy’s agency. She met my eyes as she tucked the card in her purse. I shook her hand, deciding her grip was firmer this time. Her fingers, though, were still cold.

      “I’ll show you out, Ms. Gradenko,” Edden said as he opened the door. At his subtle gesture, I sank back into my chair to wait.

      Jenks buzzed his wings for my attention. “I don’t like it,” he said as our eyes met.

      A flash of ire took me. “She wasn’t lying,” I said defensively. He put his hands on his hips, and I waved him off my cup to take a sip of my lukewarm coffee. “You don’t know her, Jenks. She hates vermin, but she tried to keep Jonathan from tormenting me though it might have meant her job.”

      “She felt sorry for you,” Jenks said. “Pitiful little mink with a concussion.”

      “She gave me part of her lunch when I wouldn’t eat those disgusting pellets.”

      “The carrots were drugged, Rache.”

      “She didn’t know that. Sara Jane suffered as much as I did.”

      The pixy hovered six inches before me, demanding I look at him. “That’s what I’m saying. Trent could be using her to get to you again, and she wouldn’t even know it.”

      My sigh pushed him back. “She’s trapped. I have to help her if I can.” I looked up as Edden opened the door and poked his head in. He had an FIB hat on, and it looked odd with his white shirt and khakis as he gestured for me.

      Jenks flitted to my shoulder. “You and your ‘rescue impulses’ are going to get you killed,” he whispered as I found the hallway.

      “Thanks, Morgan,” Edden said as he grabbed my canister of fish and led me up front.

      “No problem,” I said as we entered the FIB’s back offices. The hustle of people enfolded me, and my tension eased in the blessed autonomy it offered. “She wasn’t lying about anything other than having a key to let his cat out. But I could have told you that without the spell. I’ll let you know what I find out at Dan’s apartment. How late can I call you?”

      “Oh,” Edden said loudly as we slipped past the front desk and headed for the sunlit sidewalk. “No need, Ms. Morgan. Thank you for your help. We’ll be in touch.”

      I stopped short in surprise. A curl of escaped hair brushed my shoulder as Jenks’s wings clattered against themselves in a harsh noise. “What the hell?” he muttered.

      My face warmed as I realized he was brushing me off. “I did not come down here just to invoke a lousy lie-detecting amulet,” I said as I jerked into motion. “I told you I’d leave Kalamack alone. Get out of my way and let me do what I’m good at.”

      Behind me, conversations were going quiet. Edden never hesitated in his slow stride to the door. “It’s an FIB matter, Ms. Morgan. Let me help you out.”

      I followed, tight to his heels, not caring about the dark looks I was getting. “This run is mine, Edden,” I almost yelled. “Your people will mess it up. These are Inderlanders, not humans. You can have the glory. All I want is to be paid.” And see Trent in jail, I added silently.

      He pushed open one of the glass double doors. The sun-warmed concrete threw up a wave of heat as I stomped out after him, almost pinning the short man against the building as he gestured for a cab. “You gave me this run and I’m taking it,” I exclaimed, yanking a curl out of my mouth as the wind blew it up into my face. “Not some stuck-up, arrogant cookie in an FIB hat who thinks he’s the greatest thing since the Turn!”

      “Good,” he said lightly, shocking me into taking a step back. Putting my canister on the sidewalk, he stuffed his FIB hat into his back pocket. “But from here on out, you are officially off the run.”

      My mouth opened in understanding. I was officially not here. Taking a breath, I willed the adrenaline out of my system. Edden nodded as he saw my anger fizzle out. “I’d appreciate your discretion on this,” he said. “Sending Glenn out to Pizza Piscary’s alone isn’t prudent.”

      “Glenn!” Jenks shrilled, his voice scraping the inside of my skull, making my eyes water.

      “No,” I said. “I already have my team. We don’t need Detective Glenn.”

      Jenks left me. “Yeah,” he said as he flew between the FIB captain and me. His wings were red. “We don’t play well with others.”

      Edden frowned. “This is an FIB matter. You will have an FIB presence with you when at all possible, and Glenn is the only one qualified.”

      “Qualified?” Jenks scoffed. “Why not admit he’s the only one of your officers who can talk to a witch without pissing his pants?”

      “No,” I said firmly. “We work alone.”

      Edden stood beside my canister, his arms crossed to make his squat form look as immovable as a stone wall. “He’s our new Inderland specialist. I know he’s inexperienced—”

      “He’s an ass!” Jenks snapped.

      A grin flashed