“You’re not getting me through security,” I said. “Shunned witches can’t fly.”

“Then it’s a good thing it’s a private jet.”

I sighed, and the leprechaun put her cup down with a tap. “Me coin? I do have a life. I found Rachel Morgan for you. That’s all you be wishing for. You want me to help you get her to the airport, that be another wish. And you don’t have one.”

Eyes fixed on me and Pierce, Vivian stood, drew a coin with a hole in it from her pocket, and handed it to the leprechaun. It looked exactly like Ivy’s. The small woman slid from the oversize chair and took it. “You’re welcome, chump,” she said loudly, then walked to the front with her coffee, smiling beautifully up at the man who held the door for her as he came in.

Nick was sitting at his table. My heart beat faster. Adrenaline washed into me like a drug, and I felt the tingle of anticipation. Pierce eyed me, waiting for direction.

“Go,” Vivian said as she gestured to the door, my bag tight in her grip and faded strawberry smears marring the once-perfection of her coat. Her neck was swollen and red, and there were circles under her eyes, making her a far cry from the self-assured, posh, professional coven member I’d first seen in the grocery store. Now she was dirty, tired, and determined. Nice to know I wasn’t the only one having a bad week.

“You can’t hold me, Vivian,” I said with deceptive calm as my foot jiggled out of sight under the table. “You just can’t. Soon as I get a good nap in, I’m gone. I don’t care what you do to Tom here. He’s not my favorite person.”

A sifting of pixy dust landed on the table, and I wiped it away. Pierce noticed, and his expression changed as his eyes slowly went from the ceiling to the front of the shop. His breathing became paced and regular. Lovely, lovely adrenaline poured into me. When it wore off, I was going to hurt, but if I was lucky, Vivian would be hurting more.

“I said, get up,” Vivian repeated, her hand again in the front pocket of her coat, and together Pierce and I stood. “There’s a white van in the lot. Get into it. Leave your coffee here,” she added, and Pierce bumped me as he set his down.

“Do you trust him?” Pierce whispered, his breath soft against my ear.

Nick? “No. But look at my choices.” I swallowed hard. “Be prepared. He’s inventive.”

“He is a thief,” Pierce said indignantly.

“Yep. He’s a slimy little thief who knows how to survive.”