Jenks’s wings rasped as he landed on the piano. “Rachel has street clout.”
Pike took up his chili bowl. “Not where it counts.” He began eating again, and I started to hate his unshakable confidence, his ass sitting on my couch, him eating chili out of my bowl—even if it was made of paper and I hadn’t bought it. “Oh, you have an in with the Weres and the demons, for what it’s worth,” he said, spoon scraping. “One is too disjointed to be a threat, the other simply doesn’t care. Listening to you and Trent on the way home tells me the elves would just as soon see you dead. Clearly the witches are trying to ignore that you exist.” He frowned. “That in you have with the coven leaders notwithstanding,” he said softly in thought.
I pushed off from the table and wiped the orange cheese dust from my fingers.
“I admit a few vampiric camarillas are splintered by indecision,” he was saying, head down over his bowl. “Torn by a promise you made to them, one that the long undead will never allow to come to fruition. All of which can be overlooked or worked out if you were capable of taking control of the city. But you don’t have the influence in the I.S. to get things done.” He hesitated, moving spoon faltering as I came to a halt before him. “You can’t control a city without an effective police force backing you,” he said, looking up at me. “Constance could savage someone on Central Parkway at midnight, and no one could stop her. You?” He chuckled. “You can’t even find a place to live. The I.S. doesn’t like you, and they are the major law-enforcing unit in the city.” He looked at Edden. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Edden grumped back, his long-standing frustration obvious.
I stood before Pike, the hammering of nails and the pixies singing outside a surreal backdrop. “That depends who you ask and what the I.S. feels like enforcing on any given day.” Influence? I don’t need influence. I need a plan. Frustrated, I turned my back on Pike. “Don’t you have a store of Brimstone somewhere?” I said to Trent. “I mean, you clean it up. Make it safe. Reliable.”
Edden winced and pressed his fingers into his forehead, but it really wasn’t a secret.
“I used to.” Clearly peeved, Trent went to the table and sat down across from Pike. He drew his bowl across the table, but didn’t pick it up, staring at Pike. “My refining facility was raided last night. It’s gone. The I.S. impounded it.”
“For distribution to the houses who bow to her,” I said, slumping. Bribery and blackmail. Not how I wanted to live my life. Tired, I sank down beside Trent, my toes blue and green from the new stained glass.
Edden stood at the end of the low table, fidgeting. “The city has maybe two days left, and then the scions of the newly undead will either begin to die from blood loss, compounding the problem, or begin to bring their masters’ people off the streets.”
“Or go for door number three and kiss Constance’s ass,” I whispered. It was a ducky of a choice. Rebel and prey on your neighbors, or submit to a clearly warped and toxic master vampire. Eyes narrowed, I looked at Pike, hating his smug satisfaction. Why did I save your ass?
It was becoming painfully obvious that even if I did manage to meet with her, I wouldn’t be able to bring Constance around to simply play nice—not if she was ready to destroy Cincinnati to control it. Frustrated, I pushed back into the couch smelling of Were, witch, and vampire. Trent’s shoulder pressed into mine, and I took his hand, not caring if Pike thought I was weak and looking for support. I’d been gone not even one day, and the city was falling apart.
It burned my toast that even half the vamp population were looking to Constance. They did fine looking to their own houses. Constance was toxic and cruel, and I had severe doubts that her sanity was sufficient to make stable decisions. She would ultimately destroy Cincinnati. Why the Turn had the old ones in DC sent the whack-job here? To kill me?
Nash’s sacrifice, Zack’s defiance, Vivian’s steadfast trust, David’s ready presence, fear in the lower levels of the I.S.: thoughts plinked through me, bringing me back to the ugly realization that I’d been avoiding. Jenks’s idea of controlling them all by controlling Constance wasn’t going to work. I had only two options. Kill her or drive her out, either of which had its own set of consequences. One was illegal, the other would be really, really hard to maintain, especially without the backing of the I.S.
Damn it back to the Turn, I thought, quashing my flash of fear before Pike could recognize it. I was going to have to do the hard thing. I was going to have to drive her out. And then I was going to have to do her effing job at keeping the vampires in line because I was not going to allow the DC vamps to send another.
A sigh slipped from me, and I gave Trent’s hand a squeeze. “Okay,” I said softly, and an eager smile came over him. “Your cleaned and prepped Brimstone is at the I.S. lockup, right? We’ll go get it. Edden, you know where it’s needed the most, yes?”
Pike snorted, and I beamed a nasty smile at the spy sitting among us.
“Er, Rache?” Jenks prompted, but I wanted Pike to hear this. I had pull. I had so much pull I fell over from it three times a week.
“I’ll drive the car,” Edden said, eyes alight. “I probably shouldn’t go in.”
“Rachel!” Jenks shouted, and I turned to him, surprised he’d used my full name.
“What!” I exclaimed, then followed his gaze to Pike grinning at me.
“Oh. Right.” I held out my hand. “Pike? Phone. Now.”
“Sure,” he said, clearly unruffled as he slid it across the table to me, but it was Trent who picked it up, a noise of dismay slipping from him at the unfortunate mix of new technology and cracked screen.
“You knew this was coming,” I said, not liking what I was going to have to do. “I’ll prep as fast as I can, but if she harms Zack between now and when she agrees to see me, I will send her your ears. And then your nose, and your tongue, and then your manhood.”
Pike chuckled and I leaned forward over the table, careful to keep out of his easy reach. “I buried in my graveyard yesterday what you allowed to happen to Nash,” I said, and his mirth vanished. “I’m trying to work within the law. But if Constance takes everything important away from me, I will have no reason not to step outside it.”
Pike’s eyes flicked to Jenks, Edden, and Trent, and the last of his amusement evaporated. “Blackmail?” he prompted, somehow coming across as disappointed.
I stood, feeling strong when Jenks landed on my shoulder. “Promise,” I said. “Thanks to your call in the car, Constance won’t expect you to contact her for—what? Eight hours?” I smiled down at him without warmth. “I can do a lot in eight hours.” I might even be able to sleep. . . .