His slacks and casual shirt were as expensive looking as his mentor’s, but they and his coat hung on him as if he had lost a lot of weight. He seemed in full control of his faculties despite the painkiller, his gaze meeting mine with the look of someone seeing their savior.

I didn’t like that. If things went as planned, I was going to kill him. Shades of gray. Just this once. Gotta save the world and all that.

Nick edged in behind me, moving furtively to the kitchen, where he leaned against the sink with his arms crossed, the bulb over the stove making him even more gaunt. I imagined he was trying to stay unnoticed, but no one wanted to acknowledge his existence anyway.

Between Nick and the vampires, Jenks sat cross-legged on the couch beside the artifact. I had put the ugly thing in his keeping, and he took the task seriously. He looked odd sitting like that, but the hard slant to his eyes balanced out his prissy-boy image. Ivy’s sword across his knees helped too. The vampires were ignoring him. If I was lucky, they’d ignore me.

“DeLavine,” Ivy said respectfully, dropping her coat on the bed and inclining her head. She had the air of a favored messenger that was to be treated well. The undead vampire lifted a hand in acknowledgment, and she turned to Peter. “Peter,” she said more casually, gesturing for him to remain seated as she shook his hand.

“Ivy Tamwood,” the ailing vampire said pleasantly, his voice resonant for his narrow, disease-thin body. “I’ve heard much about your good works. Thank you for seeing me.”

Good works? I thought, then remembered the missing-person runs that had populated her schedule during the first three months of our firm’s existence.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he continued, releasing her hand. “You can imagine the uproar you put my house in when you called.” He smiled, but I saw a tinge of fear.

“Shhhh,” the undead vampire admonished, sensing it and patting his knee. “It’s a moment of pain. Nothing you haven’t lived your entire life with.” It was the first time he had spoken, and his voice carried an accent so faint it showed only in a soft lengthening of vowels.

Peter dropped his eyes, head bobbing. I thought I was going to be sick. This was wrong. I didn’t want to do it. I hadn’t wanted to from the first. We could find another way.

“DeLavine, Peter,” Ivy said, motioning for me to come forward. “This is my partner, Rachel Morgan. It will be her spells that will make this work.”

I couldn’t help but notice that the woman behind them was being disregarded and didn’t seem to have a problem with that. Feeling like a prize mule, I took off my cap and shambled forward, conscious of my hat-flattened hair, my faded jeans, and my STAFF T-shirt. At least it was clean.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said, not offering my hand to DeLavine. No freaking way. “Peter,” I added, shaking his.