“Mmm-hmm.” Her tone made it clear she knew I was lying. I’d feel better if they were here and out of harm’s way. It was going to be warmer tomorrow night but maybe too cold for Jenks. And Ivy was going to be more of a liability than an asset trying to defend herself against magic. There was a reason even the I.S. didn’t send vampires after a witch. I didn’t like Quen being out there with me either, but if anyone could help me, it would be him.

“Keep it simple and everything will be fine,” Jenks said, and I jumped when a thrown fishhook and line snagged the edge of the counter and Belle’s pale, scary face popped up. With an acrobatic flip, she levered herself up and away from the drafts to stand among Trent’s library books. I still had to get them back, and I wondered what kind of late fee I might be risking.

Keep it simple, I thought as I reached to tidy Trent’s books. Nothing about any of this had been simple. I’d been trying to get these stupid rings to reinvoke since getting back from the museum, all with no results. It was as if something was blocking me. Maybe because the sun was up? Slave rings were foul. Just the idea made me uneasy. And here I was, trying to reinvoke them. For a good reason, I kept telling myself, but did I really want to be the person who believed the end justified the means?

“It will work,” I said as I stacked Trent’s books with a thump, and the draft blew Belle’s spiderweb-like hair back. “You can’t lose with a vampire vanguard and a pixy backup.”

Ivy glared at me, and I gave her a questioning look until she darted her gaze to Jenks. He was slumped over again, his wings not moving. Damn it! That was supposed to have cheered him up, not remind him of his stupid son! I hadn’t known it at the time, but Jenks had found Jax in the back halls and thrashed him soundly so he wouldn’t raise the alarm. I was sure his son was okay, but Jenks was depressed.

“Jenks,” I pleaded, wiping my hands off on the apron and coming to sit kitty-corner to Ivy, Jenks standing between us. “I’m sorry about what happened with Jax. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thankful. It was the difference between walking out of there and being carried.”

Jenks’s face was frozen in grief and guilt. “I hurt him,” he said bitterly. “I tore his wings to shreds. My own son. He won’t be able to fly for months, if ever again.” A dark pool of black dust spilled off the table for Rex to paw at. “He’s my son, even if he is blind, ignorant, and . . .”