Trent leaned forward, his suit rasping. “Where . . . Oh. Got you. The Goddess help me, that’s good. I can hardly see you.”
My lips pressed, and I gripped the wheel tighter as I went to the front of the empty lot. I appreciated that David’s pack had cleared the area, but now that we were here, I wanted them gone. “David, stay out of it,” I said loudly, and Trent sighed and put his phone on speaker. “I mean it,” I said. “If I need you, I’ll send Jenks. Keep Edden out, too, until the first responders come in. Even the undead don’t mess with paramedics.”
“I’ll try,” David said, his voice small through Trent’s phone. “But Edden says bullets are faster than vamps.”
“Yeah?” I pulled into a parking spot right beside the brightly lit but empty ticket booth. “Remind him that undead vampires are faster than his finger. He stays out until the paramedics get here, or I’m not ever asking for his help again.”
Trent chuckled as he scanned the wheel. “You didn’t ask for his help this time.”
“Hoy!” David suddenly exclaimed. “There he goes! Sorry, Rachel. Doyle got past us. We thought he was with Constance. She’s a few blocks back.”
My eyes flicked to the rearview mirror as I put the car in park. Bright lights bobbled and bounced as an I.S. cruiser raced in over the speed bumps—headed for us. “That’s okay,” I said grimly. “I wanted to talk to him anyway. See you when it’s done.”
“When it’s done,” David agreed, then softer, in threat, “Kalamack? Prove me wrong.”
Trent frowned as he hit the end key with a decisive tap.
My eyes went from Doyle’s car to him, and I set a hand on his knee. “He’s only worried.”
“So am I.” Trent undid his seat belt and got out, pulling himself straight in determination as he went to head off Doyle, whose cruiser was now rocking to a halt two rows back. Jenks followed him out, but his attention was on the surrounding park, eerie with the wheel spinning and no one in sight. The gondolas were huge, glass encased and air-conditioned. One was even set up as a posh dining car for proposals and parties. Now, though, the SkyStar only looked creepy, silently turning with all the gondolas and waiting benches empty.
Nearby was the actual Turn memorial, which, in Cincinnati, was a heat-twisted boxcar with the names and ages of a handful of refugees scratched upon one interior wall. They represented the uncountable thousands who had fled the West Coast where the plague had begun, moving east with the produce farmed there. None of the people who had reached Cincinnati in the tarnished car had survived.
Jenks snapped his wing in warning before he landed on my shoulder, smelling of the wind off the nearby river. “David did good. The area is clear.”
“Good. Thanks.” I leaned against the car, arms going over my middle as Trent stood in front of Doyle, blocking him. The I.S. officer had a duplicate warrant in his hand. He shifted to get past Trent, becoming red-faced when he stopped him. I can’t risk Trent like this.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?” I said suddenly, and Jenks’s wing pitch shifted.
“Sure. As long as it doesn’t involve leaving you.”
A remembered fear bubbled up from nowhere, of when Landon smashed Jenks with a frying pan. Holding Jenks in my hand, not knowing if he was alive or dead, had been the most agonizing thing I’d ever endured. Love is not a liability, but Trent is not coming with me.
“Do you think Trent will hang back if I ask him?” I said as Trent and Doyle began to argue, their words faint over the wind off the river. “Constance can bespell the unwilling or she wouldn’t have survived this long. I’m going to have a hard enough time besting it.” My brow furrowed, and I gestured helplessly. “He doesn’t have anything to cope with that.”
“Then I suggest you do that,” Trent said loudly, but it was his hand glowing with a faint magic that was keeping Doyle back, not his words.
“You sure? He’s bigger than me. And he’s got magic,” Jenks said.
“True, but do you think he will?” My breath shook as I exhaled. I’m sorry, Trent.
Jenks hovered before me, his worry obvious. “He’s going to be pissed.”
I nodded. “He’ll lose his Sa’han status if a vampire binds him. If this was between him and Constance, I’d say risk it. But it isn’t.” I pushed off the car and started over. “He doesn’t need to be there,” I whispered.
Jenks’s wings rasped as he followed. “Remind me to never fall in love with you, Rache.”
He thinks I’m asking Trent to stay behind because I love him, I thought, knowing that Trent would see it the same way. Maybe I was.
Head high, I gathered my resolve as I strode forward as if I owned the parking lot. “Doyle!” I shouted, and both men turned, their argument falling short. “I need until sunup before I come in for that warrant.”
Doyle squinted at me, clearly angry. “You expect me to believe that?”
I settled before them. The wind off the river was cool in my hair, and I remembered the stink of Alcatraz and the smell of old iron. “I expect you to stop chasing the glory of bringing Rachel Morgan in for a petty crime when I’m trying to save Cincinnati from a monster.”
Doyle’s eyes narrowed, shifting pupil black even in the dark. My attention went to the string of cars approaching, slow and threatening. “Sorry, Doyle. You’re going to have to wait. A bigger lion just got to the water hole.”
Jaw clenched, Doyle dropped back to stand with us and face the six black SUVs and the iridescent, cream-colored Jag now pulling into the accessible-parking spots. Behind them, eight more black vans parked at the outskirts, their engines running and lights aimed at us.
“The woman knows how to make an entrance,” Jenks smart-mouthed, then flew up and away, wings rasping.
Trent inched closer. “Maybe we should have brought more people.”
Worry about our coming argument kept me quiet as the doors opened and men and women in black got out. They didn’t move any closer, staring at us as Pike bolted from the Jag to get Constance’s door. “More people mean more problems,” I whispered.
Doyle rubbed his stubble in indecision as Constance emerged, looking small in her white, skintight dress, heels, and immaculately styled hair. Her jewelry caught the lights from the car, reminding me of Joni. Pike had dressed for the occasion as well, looking good in a dark suit and his hair now cropped close to help hide the burns. Clearly agitated, he waved for everyone to stay put when Constance started forward.
“Morgan? Who is that with you?” Constance said imperialistically. “Pike, who is that vampire beside her? You said she had no support among the undead. Is he a living vampire? He’s wearing a badge. That’s one of my people!”