Jenks tunked the speed down some more, and Nick tunked it back up. I couldn’t blame him, but the waves were bouncing us around like a piece of popcorn. Jenks handled the jostling better than me despite my four feet against his two, and he started rummaging, opening every panel and lifting every seat. It was his pixy curiosity, and feeling ill, I wobbled to Nick, put my head into his lap and gave him the sad-puppy-dog-eyes look, hoping he’d slow our pace. Burn my britches if it didn’t work, and smiling for the first time since I’d found him, he dropped a thin hand to my head before he decreased the speed.

“Sorry, Ray-ray,” he murmured over the noise of the engine. “I can’t…I can’t go back.” He swallowed hard and his breath quickened. “But you did it. Thank you. I owe you one. I owe you my life.” Hands trembling, he met my eyes, his grip on the plastic-coated wheel clenching and releasing. “I thought you were dead. You have to believe me.”

I did. He wouldn’t have left that rose in the jelly-jar vase if he hadn’t.

Jenks made a call of discovery. “Anyone hungry?” he shouted over the wind and engine. “I found their food stores.”

Nick jerked. “I’m starved,” he said, all but panicked as he looked over his shoulder.

Jenks’s first ugly face emptied when he saw Nick’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said softly, gesturing for Nick to move. “I guess you are. You eat. I’ll drive.”

I jumped up onto the copilot’s chair to get out of the way, and Nick stood unsteadily, gripping the boat and shaking with the thumping of the waves. He wobbled to the back bench, taking a moment to arrange the wool blanket Jenks had found about his shoulders before settling himself and ripping open energy bars with his teeth since his nails were torn to the quick.

Jenks took his place behind the wheel. He turned the boat slightly to the bridge, and the ride smoothed out. I watched the play of emotions over his smooth face. I knew he was as mad as a jilted troll at the altar that Nick had led his son astray, but seeing Nick beaten, abused, and so weak he could hardly open that stupid wrapper, it was hard not to feel sorry for him.

Just wanting Jenks to lighten up a little, I put my head in his lap and peered up at him.

“Don’t look at me like that, Rache,” Jenks said, his eyes scanning the approaching shoreline for the run-down marina we had planned out earlier as a possible landfall. “I saw you pull it on Nick, and it doesn’t work on me. I have fifty-four kids, and it won’t work.”

Sighing heavily, I arched my wolf eyebrows. Sure enough, he glanced down.

“Tink’s panties,” he muttered. “Okay. I’ll be nicer. But as soon as he’s better, I’m going to punch him.”

Pleased, I pulled my head up and gave him a lick on his cheek.