“Is that a threat?” I said loudly, my feet planted solidly on the pavement.
No surprise, he stopped and turned. “God no,” he said, smiling again, though it hid his anger now whereas before it had only been fake. “It’s only . . .” He glanced to where the watching man had been, the space now empty, then back to me. “You won’t find any room in Cincinnati for a witch-born demon to rest her head.” He looked at my car and Stef standing beside it. “Anywhere, and especially not in the Hollows.”
I closed the gap between us, stifling my anger so I wouldn’t set him off. The thought flicked through me that perhaps Constance was actively behind the trouble I’d had closing a deal, not just passively by way of her peeps needing space. If so, she had failed. “Is that so?”
Pike put a hand on his waist. He leaned in, head tilted, and I held my breath so I wouldn’t breathe in the delicious scent of frustrated vampire. “Here’s my advice, though I know you won’t take it,” he said, eyes black as my anger and confidence hit him hard and he struggled with his instincts. “Constance is coming in tonight. You have this one instant in time to graciously back down. Save yourself a lot of money and maybe your life. Leave. Get out of town.” He straightened, eyes fixed on mine. “Go live with your rich boyfriend and make spells.”
“Wow, condescending much?” I said, and his eyes narrowed.
He tossed the keys of the van to me, and I fumbled, almost dropping them. “Put Ivy’s stuff in storage, will you?”
“I’m not your lackey. Do it yourself,” I said, flinging them right back at him.
He caught them in one raised hand, and I turned away before my anger and frustration tipped him over the edge. There was an art to arguing with a vampire, and I’d had enough practice with Ivy to know when to walk away. I’d pushed Pike further than I’d feel comfortable going with Ivy, but Pike wasn’t a slave to his bloodlust as Ivy was. Had been. She was better now.
Playing with Pike would be . . . amazing, I thought, immediately dismissing it.
Lips pressed, I stomped past a wide-eyed Stef to the back of my car. “Go live with my rich boyfriend,” I muttered as I opened the rear door and put the boxes inside. Waving for Stef to wait, I went to the van. “Make spells,” I added as I levered myself inside to find Jenks darting over the clutter, clearly looking for something. “This is hot, pink fairy crap,” I griped as I opened a box marked Kitchen and took out my spelling bowl, salt, and ceramic spoons. The splat balls I left, not knowing if they had been tampered with.
“Did you find Bis?” I all but snarled, and Jenks’s expression shifted from worry to anger.
“They put him in a box,” Jenks said bitterly. “The moss wipes.”
Moss wipes was rather benign, with the way I was feeling, and I ripped the tape off the box he was hovering over.
My shoulders slumped and the anger washed away as I found the kid nestled among the packing peanuts, the bottle that held his soul right beside him. His skin was a dull white, and his eyes were closed, wings clamped tight about his body curved into a fetal position. I’d say he was dead, but his skin was warm and his tail curled around my wrist as I lifted him free.
Heartache slammed into me, and my gut clenched. Son of a bastard, I thought as I held the cat-sized gargoyle close and tucked the bottle in a pocket. This wasn’t going to bring me down, but it hurt. It hurt bad.
Bis in my arms, I looked out the open van to see Pike vanishing into the dark confines of the back loading dock. His voice was raised in anger, shouting for someone to bring up the cat before I left.
“They caught Rex!” Jenks exclaimed, but his excitement faltered and he looked at Stef and Boots. Jenks’s cat had been lurking in the lower levels of Piscary’s for months. I hadn’t been about to go down looking for him. I figured if his food was vanishing and the litter box needed to be cleaned, he was doing fine.
“Let’s hope they put him in a box, too,” I said as I held Bis in one arm and gathered my spelling bowl with the other.
Jenks landed on my shoulder as I made the jump to the ground and back into the sun. “Where are we going, Rache? David? He likes cats.”
My thoughts went to Trent. He wouldn’t care if I camped out at his place for a few days even if I brought a guest with me, but Pike’s crack about going to live with my rich boyfriend and make spells pissed me off.
“The church,” I said, and Jenks’s wing hum faltered for a second. “For now,” I added as we went to my car and I dropped my spelling bowl, salt, and spoons in with the rest.
I felt as if I’d lost more than a place to live as I got in the car, slammed my door, put on my belt, and sat there, hands on the wheel and Bis on my lap as I waited for them to “bring up the cat.” Jenks darted about, nervously checking on everything as Stef slowly got in, somehow managing the increasingly annoyed Boots and her seat belt both. “I’m sorry,” she said, and I unclenched my jaw. “I guess we’re both screwed.”
I started my car and smiled at her, but it was forced. “Not yet,” I said, smile faltering as I saw the vampires toting in an elaborately carved headboard that had to be Constance’s. The scratches and iron rings kind of gave it away. “I’m sure my Realtor can arrange for us to stay at the space Jenks and I just put money down on. Most sellers will let you pay rent until you take possession. Until then, we can camp out at the church.”
“Church?” Stef’s hand soothing Boots halted. “The one that blew up last summer?”
“That’s the one.”
“It’s got a new roof,” Jenks added as I tracked a woman in a flowing white dress coming across the parking lot. She had a cat carrier, which would make things easier, and Jenks flew out of the car to make sure Rex got in the rear seat okay.
“It was only the back half that blew up,” I said. “We’d be in it now, but it’s been a devil of a time finding a contractor to put in . . . a . . . kitchen.” My thoughts swirled as the woman opened the back door and slid Rex in, Jenks all the while crooning at the irate cat through the little holes. Constance wanted me out of Cincy. Was she why we couldn’t find a contractor? Son of a fairy-farting whore . . .
“Ah, can you get along without a kitchen for a few days?” I asked Stef as the door to the back shut. Jenks hovered outside, talking with the woman about where Rex’s food was, and I started the car. We can stop on the way home and get more, Jenks. Let’s go. . . .
“As long as I get coffee in the morning,” Stef said. “It’s only for a few days, right? I can do anything for a few days.”
Nodding, I put the car in drive and headed for the street, my anger dulling to a hard certainty that this wasn’t over. I wasn’t sure where the money would come from to rent out the shopfront until we closed, but Jenks and I would find it. Damn it all to hell. I’d had this until someone started taking things they had no right to take.