will be escorting you to your meeting at the FIB for safety reasons.”
“I’ve got this, demon weenie,” Jenks said, clearly insulted.
“I’m fine. Really,” I insisted as I hitched my bag up my shoulder, but he wasn’t listening.
“Fine? You are barely adequate. Dali has seen your aura, and now I have to address it,” he said as he twisted to reach a thin wallet and leafed through a wad of cash from at least three different eras. “You are compromised. Wandering about Cincinnati without the ability to do magic makes us all look bad. Therefore, I’m with you when you’re out of your kitchen.”
Like my kitchen is any safer, I thought, and Jenks snickered, probably thinking the same thing.
“And a dollar extra for you, my good demon,” Al said in an overdone show as he stuffed a wad of bills in the tip jar to pay for his drink.
“Thank you so-o-o much,” Dali muttered sarcastically.
“I can do magic,” I protested, but the reality was that I had a splat pistol that could easily be circumvented and a ceremonial knife that was too long to be legal even in my purse. Earth magic was great, but it had to be prepared hours before use. But still . . . an escort? That was my job.
Al beamed at the barista as he took his coffee. “I shall accompany you to the FIB.”
“Um,” I said, not seeing a way out of it. “I’m not going to the FIB. I’m going to the park.”
“The park?” Al took the lid off his coffee to sprinkle a heavier layer of cinnamon into it. “I thought the FIB had a job for you,” he said, the leashed anger back in his voice.
“I’ve already been to the FIB.” Arms over my chest, I stared out the window in the general direction of the FIB building, my anger at Edden—at the world—flashing high again.
The snap of the lid going back on seemed loud. “You’re working a run for them?” he said blandly.
My attention flicked to Al. It was the second time he had brought up the FIB, and I looked at his previous words more carefully. He had said his job required him to be available at all hours. Required, as in not anymore. Had they fired him?
“I’m meeting Trent and the girls at the park for ice cream,” I admitted. “Um, Al?” I said as he headed for the door, coffee in hand and a new tightness in his jaw. I knew his anger was born in the FIB’s mistrust, and I understood it all too well. “Hey, as soon as I found out why Edden asked me to talk to one of their witnesses, I quit.”
Al jerked to a halt, a gloved hand on the door, and then, as if he was realigning his thoughts, his shoulders slumped. His hand pulled back, and still not looking at me, he took a long draft of his coffee. “Damn my dame, that’s good without the stink of burnt amber.”
Head down, he gestured for me to go before him. Throat tight, I did. I knew he’d never say anything about it, but I’d stood up for him, and that was all that mattered. Maybe with both of us out of work, we could spend some time and make some tulpas, though it might be cheaper now for the demons to buy what they wanted instead of creating it from energy made real. Besides, a good tulpa put me out for a week.
“You’re going to see Lucy and Ray?” Al said as he followed me out the door, and I hunched deeper into my jacket at the chill November breeze coming up off the river. On my shoulder, Jenks rattled his wings and tucked in behind my collar. “And ice cream. Mmmm,” Al added. But I knew it was the girls’ unconditional delight with him that he craved.
“I am. You aren’t invited,” I said, and he pouted dramatically from behind his blue-tinted glasses. “Ellasbeth will be there, and you’re a huge distraction. They get little enough time with her as it is.”
“I will be as quiet as a mouse,” he promised, but I knew better, and I winced at the imagery of exploding winged horses. “I will accompany you to the park,” he said, but there was genuine gratitude hidden in his flamboyant words now, and it made me feel good. “And I will drive,” he added as he put a hand on the small of my back and pushed.
“Really, Al, I’m