Jenks and Jax were at a table in the rear, a bank of empty booths between them and the wall. The large pixy waved for us to join them, and I felt a moment of worry that he had his shirt open to show his scent amulet. I was guessing he was proud he was big enough to have one and wanted to show it off, but I didn’t like flaunting my Inderland status. They had an MPL—a Mixed Public License—posted, but it was obvious that this was a local human hangout.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Nick muttered.

He made a beeline for the archway beside the bar, and I watched him, the idea flitting through me that he might not come back. I looked at Jenks, and after I nodded, the big pixy sent Jax to follow him. Yeah, I was stupid when it came to matters of the heart, but I wasn’t stupid.

Ivy’s presence hung a shade too close for comfort as we wove through the empty tables, past the pool table and the gray-tiled dance floor. Jenks had his coat off and his back to the wall, and Ivy took the chair beside his before I could. Peeved, I put my fingers on the worn wood of the chair across from her, twisting it sideways so I could see the door. The guys at the bar were watching us, and one moved down a stool to talk to his neighbor.

Seeing that, Ivy frowned. “Stand up, pixy,” she said, her low voice carrying an obvious threat. “I don’t want Rachel sitting next to crap for brains.”

In a heartbeat Jenks’s amusement turned to defiance. “No,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t want to, and you can’t make me. I’m bigger than you.”

Ivy’s pupils swelled. “I would have thought you’d be the last person equating greater size with greater threat.”

His foot under the table jiggled, squeaking. “Right.” With an abrupt motion he pushed his chair out, snatching up his coat and edging from behind the table to take the seat next to mine. “I don’t like sitting with my back to the door either,” he grumbled.

Ivy remained silent, the brown returning to her eyes quickly. I knew she was carrying herself carefully, very aware that the clientele wasn’t used to vampires and voluntarily putting herself on her best behavior. That Jenks had moved to suit her hadn’t gone unnoticed, and I fixed a cheerful smile to my face when the woman approached, setting down four glasses of water with moisture beading up on them. No one said anything, and she fell away a full four feet, pulling a pad of paper from her waistband. What she wanted was obvious. Why she hadn’t said anything in greeting was obvious too; we had her on edge.

Ivy smiled, then toned it down when Becky, by her name tag, paled. Putting the flat of my arms on the table, I leaned forward to look brainless. “Hi,” I said. “What’s the special?”