“Sorry.” Ivy stood and offered him a hand up. “He would have killed you.”

So she hit him and risked giving him a concussion? Yeah, that made sense.

His gaze went to me, and my breath caught at the fear in it. “Are you all right? Did he touch you?”

“Of course he touched me,” I said, getting to my feet and wavering until I found my balance. “He’s an undead vampire. They can’t look without touching. They can’t not touch. I’m a freaking vampire candy cane and they all want a lick.”

“Damn it all to hell!” Jenks rose, touching the back of his head when it probably protested at the quick motion. “Stupid pixy. Stupid green-assed, moss-wipe, thumb up my ass pixy! You knocked me out cold, Ivy!”

“Jenks,” I protested, “leave her alone.” But he wasn’t mad at her, he was mad at himself.

“Tagged by a whiny little vamp,” he said, gesturing. “Rache, take this sword and stick it in me. Just go and stick it in me. I’m a back-drafted, crumpled-winged, dust-caked, dew-assed excuse of a backup. Worthless as a pixy condom. Taken down by my own partner. Just tape my ass shut and let me fart out my mouth.”

I blinked, impressed. Rex was twining about my feet, and needing some comfort, I picked her up. Immediately she jumped to the couch and bounced to Jenks, stretching against his leg. The pixy yelped when she flexed her claws into him, and the kitten skittered under the bed.

“Look! She drew blood. Rache! Your damn orange cat scratched me. I’m bleeding!”

“Rex!” Jax shouted, coming out from behind the top of the curtain. “Dad, you scared her! Rex, are you okay?” He darted under the bed after her.

“That is so unsafe,” I muttered. Tired, I hobbled to the kitchen to get away from Jenks, who had collapsed onto the bed and was holding his leg as if Rex had hit a femoral vein. I jerked to a stop before I ran into Nick. “Hi, Nick,” I muttered, hitting the k with an excess amount of force. “Get out of my way. I have a lot to do before I kill Peter and Ivy goes on her big date.”

His long face worried, he took a breath to say something. I wasn’t going to listen. I owed him nothing. Feeling like I was eighty years old, I shambled around him.

“I can help,” he said, and I dropped into one of those nasty kitchen chairs, put my elbows on the table and slumped forward. I was tired, hungry, and ticked. I had completely lost control of my life. It wasn’t a simple snag and drag anymore. No, now I had to save the world from my former boyfriend and my roommate from herself. What the hell. Why not?

Ivy had gotten my bags from where she dropped them by the front door. Silent and clearly embarrassed, she set them on the table, making a show of putting Peter’s swab before me. Jenks had apparently decided he wasn’t bleeding to death, and with his very lack of movement, pulled my attention to him.