“Sure. I don’t like it when the I.S. dredges the ponds. They always make me leave.” With a bubbly gurgle, the troll eased into the water. He might look thin and weak, but, like Bis, he could increase his mass considerably with an instant water intake. Get slammed once with ten pounds of spit water, and you never tease a troll again.
My head rose at the roar of a black sports car coming up the park’s drive. David pushed up his hat, eyed the car, then settled back down.
Pike, I thought, then stifled a jump when Jenks dropped down, wings rasping.
“We got four vamps keeping their distance,” the pixy said, dusting heavily on my shoulder. “And that’s Pike in the Jag. David’s pack blocked the road with a fender bender after he came through so you’re good for about twenty minutes. I think the four svelte-and-sexies are there in case you do anything like . . . I don’t know. Try to kidnap him?” Jenks laughed, the sound like wind chimes. “Where do you want me?”
Pike had put his car three spots down from my little red MINI, aggressively revving the Jag to make the sparrows flee. “Close,” I said, and Jenks silently darted up.
The thump of Pike’s door shutting sent a pulse of adrenaline through me, and I set my bag by my ankle, where I could reach it if I had to drop. He was alone, and as he made his careful way to the bridge, I wondered if he’d seen Jenks. Angry at him or not, I could still admit that he looked good, if a little tired, in his slacks and gray button-down shirt, the wind in his short hair and his brown eyes squinting at me. There were two cups of takeout coffee in his hand, and my eyebrows rose.
“Great minds think alike, eh?” I called out, and his pace bobbled when he saw the two cups already cooling on the thick cement railing. Then he gathered himself and strode up the wide footbridge without hesitation. I tightened my grip on the ley line.
“Thanks,” he said, finally slowing to stop a too-close five feet back. “But I don’t drink what I don’t bring.”
I looked at the grande in his grip, suspicion rising high in me. “Ah, I don’t drink what I don’t bring, either,” I said, and he chuckled and set one cup on the railing.
“You sure? I dropped your name, and the guy said to get a skinny demon latte. Smells good.”
Like you? I thought, my gut tightening at the scent of vampire incense rolling across the bridge to me in the light wind. It was sure and strong, having none of the fear that the rest of Constance’s people had. Kisten had smelled like that. Especially at the end. Which was probably why Piscary had killed him.
“What guy?” I came closer with a fake casualness. “Was he a witch? My height, brown hair? Or was he a demon, few pounds overweight and graying at the temples?”
Pike’s eyes widened. “That was a demon?”
I knocked my coffee against the one in his hand. “Welcome to my world,” I said, then eased back, wondering if I’d overstepped. My gaze went to the park, and both of us were silent, each of us reading the air, each of us sensing something we didn’t like.
“You know, just once I’d like to meet someone out here without worrying about landing in the water,” I muttered, and from under the bridge, I heard a bubbling laugh.
“This is one of your special spots, eh?” Pike squinted as he continued to look over the park. “To be up-front, nothing you say except that you submit to Constance’s authority will free Zack.” He chuckled, head dropping. “She is pissed that you drove her out of Piscary’s.”
My anger flashed, quickly stifled, but I knew Pike had caught it when the rim of brown around his eyes shrank. His pupil-black eyes lingered on me to make my breath come shallow.
He’d be hard to down, I thought, then wrestled my anger back and shoved it away. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of a little tussle where we settle a few things and then both go home to get stitched up,” I said lightly. “You didn’t really think I asked you out here so I could capitulate to her demands, did you?”
Pike sighed as he put his elbows on the railing, looking out over the water and showing off his long torso in a languid ease. “You think you could last ten seconds with me?”
I mirrored him, only a foot between us. “Here? With a pixy and troll to back me up? I could last . . . forty seconds. And that’s without magic. With magic, you don’t stand a chance.”
Pike’s gaze followed the sifting pixy dust up into the overhanging tree. “Thirty,” he countered.
“A full minute.” I pushed off the railing and faced him. “Because now you think you’re better than me.”
His head swiveled, and I held my breath as he took in the sun in my hair, his lingering gaze reminding me that I’d forgotten to take the flowers out. Eyebrows high, I touched the lace around my neck, teasing him. “You think you’re better than me?” he said, low voice raking over my thought and reason like delicious claws.
Damn it, why do I always go too far? “No, but I’m not a pushover, either.” I put a few more inches between us, disguising it by taking another sip of coffee. “I’ve got three years of living with Ivy Tamwood to back me.” I sipped again, the caffeine a welcome jolt. “She only bit me once, and I wanted her to. She was Piscary’s scion, and if you think Constance is warped, she’s got nothing on him.” I turned, smiling with no emotion. “I learned how to say no from the best.”
I could feel his gaze on my neck, his expression empty. I knew he was looking for and not seeing the scar that was hidden under my curse-new skin and that tiny wisp of lace. I’d put it on because I’d been angry. In hindsight, maybe not such a good idea.
The idle chitchat was over, and I set my coffee on the railing. “Killing Nash was a mistake,” I said, letting some of my anger show. “Hurting Zack would be another. One I won’t forgive.” Pike made a soft harrumph. It pissed me off, and I added, “So did you hold him down, or did you do the cutting?”
Pike pulled himself straight, his focus blurred as he turned to lean against the railing to watch the other side of the park. “I wasn’t there.”
I faced him, hand on a hip, a risky three feet between us. “That’s hard to believe.”
“I wasn’t there,” he said again, but I could see a hint of guilt, and my eyes narrowed in accusation. “I ran some errands after she said she would only cut him a little. Scare the kid.”
“His name is Zack,” I said loudly when Jenks’s wings rasped from the overhanging tree. “And I’m not buying your ‘not my fault’ crap. You know her better than anyone. You left knowing it would happen and that Nash wasn’t going to get off that table.”
Pike’s gaze flicked to mine, his black eyes making the sun feel cold. “I was on an errand,” he insisted, and when I said nothing, his shoulders slumped. “Which I left to do because I knew it was going to be bad.”