“But what if it isn’t a bluff?” I said into his shirt, thinking of all the people I had tagged for practicing black magic. They hadn’t intended to become the fanatical, crazed people I threw in the back of a cab and hauled off to the I.S. “Some guy talked to me today,” I said, fiddling with the top button of his shirt. “He invited me to join their demon cult.”

“Mmmm.” His voice rumbled through me. “And what did my bad-ass runner tell him?”

“That he could take his club and shove it.” Kisten said nothing, and I added, “What if they call my bluff? If they hurt Ivy or Jenks…”

“Shhhh,” he hushed, his hand gentle against my hair. “No one is going to hurt Ivy; she’s a Tamwood vampire and Piscary’s scion. And why would anyone hurt Jenks?”

“Because they know he’s important to me.” I lifted my head, taking a breath of the fresher air. “I might do it,” I said, frightened. “If anyone hurts Jenks or his family, I might call Minias and trade in my mark.”

“Minias.” Kisten’s surprise showed. “I thought you were supposed to keep their names secret.”

There had been more than a hint of jealousy in it, and I felt the beginnings of a smile. “That’s his casual name. He has red goat-slitted eyes, a funny purple hat, and a crazy girlfriend.”

Kisten pulled me closer and settled his arms around me. “Maybe I should call this guy. Take him bowling so we can compare crazy-girl-friend notes.”

“Stop it,” I chided him, but he had managed to shift my mood. “You’re jealous.”

“Hell yes, I’m jealous.” He was silent for a moment, then leaned forward. “I want to give you your present early,” he said, reaching around the arm of the couch and to the floor.

Twisting, I put my back against the arm of the couch more firmly. Kisten set the obviously store-wrapped package in my hands, and I beamed. The ribbon about it was imprinted with VALERIA’S CRYPT, an exclusive supplier of clothing where the less fabric there was, the bigger the dent it would make in your checking account.

“What is it?” I asked, giving the shirt-size box a shake, and something thunked.

“Open it and see,” he said, his eyes flicking from me to the box.

There was something odd in his behavior. Sort of an embarrassed eagerness. Not one to save paper, I ripped it off and tossed it, running a fingernail under the single piece of tape holding the box shut. Black tissue paper rustled, and I warmed when I saw what was under it.

“Oh, this is nice!” I said, lifting the teddy up. “Just in time for summer nights.”

“It’s edible,” Kisten said, his eyes glinting.