And yet, he was nervous, feeling his pocket for the statue yet again as we slowed at a crosswalk and waited for the light to change. I could see a slice of the square a block up, and anticipation made me shiver. “I’m of a mind we might be able to walk right up,” he said softly.

“Not likely,” I said, the only reason Pierce could hear me was because I was right next to his ear.

“You go straight here,” Jenks said, his voice magnified by “pixy magic” and attracting the attention of the woman next to us. She gave a start until she saw Jenks and me, and then she was charmed, scaring me and putting Jenks in a foul mood if his comment about her perfume and a fairy’s hind end was any indication.

Edging away from her thick finger poking toward us, Pierce adjusted his hat and muttered, “I know how to get to the square. The dash-it-all thing is right in front of us.”

Impatient, I held my breath against the gas fumes and fidgeted. Jenks could fly me across the street, but I didn’t want to leave Pierce and the statue behind. Trent’s voice was being piped out over the sound system and a live video was being displayed on the news screen they’d put up the last time they revamped the square.

Son-of-a-bitch elf, I thought, remembering the Pandora charm and his claim that he hadn’t tried to kill me. Add to that the fact that he and Nick had been in cahoots to nab me, and I had no problem embarrassing Trent in front of national TV cameras with an erotic statue. Unless Nick had gone to Trent after I hired him? Sort of a last-minute effort to stick me with more trouble? I just didn’t know enough.

Impatient, I got to my feet, and Pierce winced when I grabbed his ear for support. But my nervousness shifted to fear when my gaze found a pair of uniforms standing across the street—waiting for us. Damn. I had hoped to get closer before we were IDed.

“Uh, Jenks?” I said, pointing, and the pixy’s wings lifted, taking on a more normal hue.

“I see them,” Pierce said, having heard my tiny voice. “I’ll cross Main instead and come up on the other side of the street.”

With a last awkward look at the cooing woman, Pierce sidestepped away and crossed Main, almost jogging to make the light. I clutched his ear, my dress flying up as Jenks took my shoulder to keep me from falling.

It had begun. Steady and sure, the adrenaline seeped in, bringing me alive.

“Good going, Sherlock,” Jenks’s dry voice said tightly as we reached the curb and Pierce slowed. “They’re watching you now because you changed your mind.”

“They were watching us before, Jenks. No big diff,” I said. “Pierce, you want to shift your look?”