assumption that they were responsible—based on nothing other than a gut feeling. But he hadn’t, and it hurt. Just when I felt I was starting to belong.
“What’s that?” he asked nervously.
“What’s in it for them?” I asked, waving Ivy’s carefully assembled information. “Demons don’t do anything unless it’s for a profit.” Frustrated, I slapped the reports against his chest, and he fumbled for them. “And neither do I anymore,” I said.
Turning, I walked away.
CHAPTER
4
“Are you still worried about postponing our meeting?” Trent’s expressive voice rose and fell like water even through my cell phone, currently on speaker and sitting on the kitchen counter. “Ellasbeth severely underestimated Lucy’s and Ray’s temperament by suggesting a five-star restaurant. Ice cream after naps is more their speed. I couldn’t have planned the shift to Eden Park better if I’d arranged for that zombie to be dropped into your garden. It doesn’t hurt that she’s blaming you for it, either, not me,” he finished softly.
I pushed the salt-water-soaked rag over the stainless steel counter to remove any chance of a residual spell interfering with the coming curse. I was still hurting about Edden, too much to tell Trent that the I.S. and the FIB had banded together to blame the demons for pitting happy couples against one another for kicks. “You didn’t, did you?” I asked, and he chuckled.
“Hang on a sec,” he said, and I heard him set the phone down.
I tossed the rag into the sink, then leaned back against the counter and nibbled the elephant-shaped cookie that I’d picked up at the zoo. Breakfast of champions. Piscary’s kitchen felt odd without any vampires in it, the shouted orders and friendly catcalls that once kept order amid the flour-and-tomato-paste madness now existing only in memory. The large pizza ovens were cold, and the huge walk-in freezer warm. The industrial-size pots and pans were gone, sold when Cormel took possession of Pizza Piscary’s, closed it, and turned the kitchen into a large eat-in.
A normal-size fridge hummed in the corner now. Several freestanding counters had been replaced with a long family-style farm table. Again, unused with only two vampires sleeping belowground. There were still pots and pans, mixers and spoons, gadgets and gizmos tucked away for everyday use, but the feel of the large room was one of abandonment.
That is, apart from the last freestanding counter in the corner. I was going to claim it as my own now that Ivy had suggested it. The curse’s ingredients were in my largest spell pot, brought over from the boat. They looked out of place under the electric lights, but that would change in time. I hoped.
“Sorry about that,” Trent said as he came back. “Where were we?”
I set the half-eaten cookie down and dusted my hands free of crumbs. “You were about to tell me you didn’t drop a zombie in my backyard so you’d have an excuse to change Ellasbeth’s playdate.” Taking up the gold silk scarf I got on sale last week, I polished a small six-inch circular mirror to remove any stray ions. Clean, spell-free mirror. Check. I was going to make a scrying mirror just so I could slap a do-not-disturb sign on it and stop sneezing.
“No, not me,” Trent said again around a yawn. I’d say I was boring him, but it was almost noon and he usually took a four-hour nap this time of day. “I had no idea that you’d be at your church. I’m sorry about the insurance not coming through.”
The mirror clinked as I set it down. “How did you . . . ?”
“Jenks called to arrange rent this winter,” Trent said, and I nodded, exhaling as I took my five-pound bag of salt from the bowl and set it heavily on the counter. Sea salt. Check.
“I’m glad you convinced him to overwinter with his kids,” Trent was saying. “That boat you’re on is a good temporary option, but if the power goes out . . .”
Silent, I took a handful of salt and spilled a large circle encompassing the entire counter. Pixies were braver than anyone gave them credit for. I didn’t know if I could live somewhere where I might slip into a hibernating coma if some asshat yanked the power cord.
“If it’s a matter of money to fix the church—”
“We’ve got this,” I interrupted, warming at how harsh it had come out, but he knew my anger wasn’t with him but that Jenks and I were in this predicament. Water chattered into the nearby