The woman darted a glance at Ivy, then back to me. “Ah, no special—ma’am,” she said, reaching nervously to touch her white hair, which had been dyed blond. “But Mike in the back makes a damn, uh, he makes a good hamburger. And we’ve got pie today.”

Nick silently joined us, with Jax on his shoulder, looking uncomfortable as he took the last seat next to Ivy and across from Jenks. The woman relaxed a notch, apparently realizing he was human and deciding the rest of us were probably half tamed. I didn’t know how they did it since they couldn’t smell Inderlander on us, as we could on ourselves. Must be some secret human finger motion or something.

“Hamburger sounds good,” Ivy said, her eyes down to look meek, but with her stiff posture it only made her look pissed.

“Four hamburgers all around,” I said, wanting to be done with it and eating. “And a pitcher of Coke.”

Nick scooted his chair closer to the table, Jax leaving him for the warmer light hanging over the table. “I’d like two hamburgers, please,” the gaunt man said, a hint of defiance in his voice, as if he expected someone to protest.

“Me too,” Jenks chimed up, bright eyes wickedly innocent. “I’m starved.”

Nick leaned to see the menu on the wall. “Does that come with fries?”

“Fries!” Jenks exclaimed, and Jax sneezed from the lamp hanging over the table. Pixy dust sifted down along with the mundane type. “Tink-knocks-your-knickers, I want fries too.”

The woman wrote it down, her plucked and penciled-in eyebrows rising. “Two half-pound burgers with fries for each of the gentleman. Anything else?”

Nick nodded. “A milk shake. Cherry if you have it.”

She blew out her breath, taking in his gaunt frame. “How about you, hon?”

Becky was looking at Jenks, but he was eyeing the jukebox. “Coke is fine. Does that thing work?”

The woman turned, following his gaze to the machine. “It’s busted, but for five bucks you can use the karaoke machine all you want.”

Jenks’s eyes widened. “Most excellent,” he said in a surfer-boy accent. From above us came Jax’s exuberant shout that all the bugs in the lamp shade had been dried out by the heat and he was going to eat their wings like chips if she didn’t mind.

Oh God. And it had been going so well.

Ivy cleared her throat, clearly appalled when Jax flitted from lamp to lamp, growing more excited by the amount of pixy dust he was letting slip. “Ah, I think that will do it,” I said, and the woman turned away, bumping into a table as she watched Jax on her way to the kitchen. The hair on the back of my neck had pricked; everyone in the bar was looking at us. Even the cook.

Jenks followed my gaze, his blond eyebrows high. “Let me take care of this,” he said, standing up. “Rache, do you have any money? I spent mine at The Butterfly Shack.”