“Thank you,” Brandon said in a contrite tone. “I’m sorry.”

There was no indication that he’d noticed anything unusual about the particulars of Cody’s involvement in his rescue. We were lucky he’d had his eyes closed through most of the altercation. I hadn’t thought that part through either.

Cody gave him a brusque nod. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“I won’t.”

Together, we trooped, sloshed, and slogged our way back across the marsh and through the damp woods to the Cassopolis household. My sandals were a total loss, having vanished into the mire. Cody was able to retrieve his neatly arranged Timberlands and socks, tugging them onto his muddy feet.

“You want to tell me about this temptation scenario?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “Maybe later.”

Mr. and Mrs. Cassopolis were grateful and relieved to have their son restored to them, although I could see the threat of paternal anger looming.

Cody could, too. He fixed Mr. Cassopolis with a steely stare. “I hope you’re not thinking of punishing the boy.” He laid a protective hand on Brandon’s thin shoulder. “He’s had a pretty bad scare.”

“Of course.” Mr. Cassopolis reined in his temper, affecting a smooth charm. He was good-looking for an older guy, with the shiny black hair and rich olive-hued skin tone Jen and her older sister, Bethany the blood-slut, had both inherited. “I’m just sorry he caused such trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Cody said briefly. “It’s my job.” He handed one of his departmental business cards to Mrs. Cassopolis. “If you ever need anything, call me,” he said to her. “Day or night.”

With a furtive glance at her husband, she tucked it into her apron pocket.

“Just to be on the safe side, you might want to tack some cold iron over your doors,” I added. “An old horseshoe or whatever you have handy. I don’t think Meg’s going to be a problem anymore, but . . .” I shrugged. “You piss off one fairy, others might take issue. They can be pesty.”

Jen followed Cody and me into the driveway. “Thank you,” she said to him. “Thank you so much. I know—”

“Thank Daisy.” His voice was still curt.

“Oh, yeah, of course!” She sounded surprised. “It’s just—”

Cody glanced at his watch, then at me. “Look, I’ve got to go. Daisy, anything to report?”

“Actually, I do. You?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Go home; wash up. I’ll do the same and meet you at the station in half an hour.”

“Okay.”