Contents ( 44)
- KIM HARRISON
- A FISTFUL OF CHARMS
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Frightfully good praise for KIM HARRISON’s previous Rachel Morgan novels
- Books by Kim Harrison
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
I glanced up when the shop door opened and Jenks came out, squinting in the brighter light until he put his shades on. The top of that hat poked out from the bag he carried, and I smiled. His head turned to the end of the mall where we had parked Kisten’s Corvette. It was obvious he wanted to hustle me over there and get me home, but upon seeing me slumped in fatigue, he came to a silent standstill above me. Slowly I drew my head up.
“Are you—” Jenks started.
“I’m fine,” I lied, wanting to pluck my turtleneck off my stitches. Jax had used dental floss, but they still pulled on the fabric. “The couch left me tight, is all.”
He grinned, sitting down cross-legged on the bench as if it was a toadstool. Jenks had slept in the van last night so neither Ivy nor I had to. Hell, I didn’t even want to ride in it again—which was probably why Ivy had taken a cab across the straits to get Nick’s truck.
“I was going to ask you if you were hungry and wanted a hamburger,” he said, squinting, “but I like your idea better. I could go for a little scuffle. Loosen up. Get the blood flowing.”
I hated feeling weak. Taking a weary breath, I straightened. “Jenks, sit like a man. That was cute when you were four inches tall, but now you look prissy.”
Immediately he put his feet on the ground, knees together and a worried look on him. Puffing the hair from my eyes, I gave up and rolled my turtleneck down. So I had been bitten by a vamp. Lots of people were. “That doesn’t look much better,” I said.
“Well, how the hell am I supposed to sit!” he exclaimed.
Lacing my fingers over my head, I stretched carefully, feeling the stitches pull. Kisten’s bracelet shifted to my elbow to make a cold spot of metal against my skin. “Have you seen Kisten slouch in the kitchen?”
With a hesitant slowness that could have been provocative, Jenks extended his legs. Lean in his tight jeans, he slumped until his neck rested atop the back of the bench. His arms went out to run along the length of the worn wood and his feet spread suggestively.
Oh—my—God. Flushing, I sat up straight. “Yeah,” I said faintly. “That’s better.” Fifty-four kids. Fifty-four kids. And where was that camera he was going to buy for me?
“Give me a minute to catch my breath,” I said, sneaking glances at him. “Then we can head to the car. I need a few more things to make the demon spell, but I’m too tired to do it now.” It grated on me to admit it, but it was kinda obvious.
Jenks sat up with a little grunt, rummaging in a pocket of his coat to bring out a folded napkin. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “Ivy said you might be stupid enough to leave the motel, and if you did to give you this.”