to do. Much as I hated to admit it, seeing Hodin confused and struggling for answers in Ivy’s kitchen had struck a chord. If he wanted to play dead while he figured things out, far be it from me to expose him. As long as he didn’t cause any trouble . . .
“I am not your babysitter, Gally,” Dali added as he went behind the counter.
Al’s hand fell away. “Rachel is capable of maintaining her own security,” he drawled, then frowned at Jenks. “Even if her aura does look like shit at the moment.”
“Thanks, Al.” I appreciated his confidence, but knowing that Hodin could have circled me in my own kitchen kept my voice soft. Why am I not telling them about Hodin, again? Oh, yeah. Death threat. Kindred spirit.
“I can protect her, you fairy-ass moss wipe,” Jenks said, hands on his hips. “Who do you think kept her alive when you were trying to kill her?”
Al narrowly eyed the pixy. “Just so,” he drawled. “Dali, if you please, a demon grande,” he said with a flourish, and Dali, now manning the register, stared malevolently at him.
“I really have to go,” I said as I gathered my bag, and Al eyed my nearly full cup.
“Do not get out of that chair,” he said, his tone suddenly sour. “The FIB can wait.”
FIB? I thought, confused. But I wasn’t about to tell him I was meeting Trent and the girls for ice cream. He’d try to horn in on it.
I had a few minutes yet, though, so I eased back. Satisfied, Al sat in an overdone show. “Dali thinks I owe you an apology,” he said as he peered at me from over his blue smoked glasses. “It never occurred to me you might need watching while your aura mended. You always seem so capable.”
“I’m fine,” I said. Dali called him? I thought, still not believing it.
“That’s what I told him you’d say,” Al said softly. “But perhaps he’s right.” He turned to the counter, visibly forcing the worry from himself. “Dali, is that coffee ready yet?”
The annoyed demon frowned. “I have three orders ahead of you, Gally.”
Sighing, Al settled back in his chair. He looked depressed, making me want to give him a hug and tell him it was okay, that the FIB was making a mistake and they were all crap heads. “Thanks for checking on me,” I said instead, and his eyes flicked to mine.
“You’re welcome,” he gruffly muttered, glowering at Jenks when the pixy snickered.
My headache felt better, and I knew it was probably Al’s aura temporarily filling in my gaps. Trent’s was close enough to mine that he could do the same. “But really, I have to go,” I said as I took another sip of cooling coffee. “I have an appointment.”
“You have a job? Splendid!” Al praised, but there was a tight bite to his voice that left me unsure. “You may want to consider showering. You still smell of zombie.”
“Still?” I said, wondering just how long the stink was going to linger, but then I hesitated. “Wait up,” I said as I set my bag on the table, and Al stiffened. “How did you know about the zombie?” My eyes narrowed. “You put it in my garden? It was you, wasn’t it?”
“That was you?” Jenks said, an angry red dust pooling on the table. “I’ve got chunks of dead human in my garden smelling like month-old unicorn piss!”
“I had to put it somewhere,” Al almost whined. “It was crashing about my backyard most horribly. I knew you’d take care of it. What with that soft heart that plagues you.”
“I didn’t know you had a place in reality,” I said, suddenly intrigued. Maybe he’d let Jenks and me move in for the winter.
“Fairy-ass zombie pus putrefying the soil. I’ll never get anything to grow there,” Jenks muttered, ignored.
“Of course I have a place in reality. We all do,” Al said as he eyed me over his glasses. “There’s nothing in that dismally small ever-after you made but trees and water. Bo-o-oring. Besides, my job required me to be available upon request at all hours, and unlike scrying mirrors, phones don’t work between realities.”
“Demon grande!” Mark shouted, and Al rose as that bell behind the counter rang.
“Maybe Jenks and I can move in with you for the winter,” I said, taking my coffee as I stood as well. “Split the rent.”
“No,” he said, and Jenks and I followed him through the tables to the pickup counter. “I