Jenks rose into the air, slowly unfolding to stand on the lid of his brine shrimp. “Let me know if you hear something. I’m calling it a night. Jhan is in charge if something comes up. If you need me, let him know.”

My eyes widened. He had his kid playing sentry? “Jenks?” I questioned, and he turned from the screen, hovering by the pixy hole.

His shoulders lifted and dropped. “I’m going to spend some time with Matalina,” he said, and I worked hard to keep from smiling.

“Okay,” I said. “You want tomorrow off?”

He shook his head, then vaulted through the hole in the screen. I stepped to the window, leaning over the sink to watch him trail a green shimmer of dust to the stump in the garden. Then he was gone. I was alone. My eyes drifted to the cake Ivy had made for me, still unfrosted. I’d put foil on it this afternoon so it wouldn’t dry out.

God, this stinks.

Refusing to let this become a pity party, I yanked one of my spell books out from the shelf and headed into the sanctuary with my water and the tub of frosting. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed something to do. I’d watch local TV, since the cable wouldn’t stretch out here, pretend to do some research, then go to bed early. Jeez, some birthday this had been.

Is it my fault Ivy’s gone? I thought as I shuffled into the sanctuary. Damn it, why did I let my emotions make my decisions? No one had forced me to bite Kisten. I could have given him the caps back. But Ivy had no right to be upset. He was my boyfriend! Besides, she had said her kiss was a taste so I could decide what I wanted. Well, I was trying to decide, and Kisten figured into that.

Depressed, I flopped into Ivy’s cushy suede chair. Vampire incense puffed up, and I breathed it deeply, looking for solace. Far off, I heard the bang of a transformer go, and I waited for the lights to blink out. They stayed lit, happy for me but sad for the squirrel that had just bit the big one, thanks to a zillion volts of electricity. I opened my spell book and snatched up the remote. It was almost midnight. The news probably had something now about the fire.

The TV brightened, and as the commercials blared and I ate a spoonful of frosting, I called Kisten. Nothing. Pizza Piscary’s was next, and I listened to the recorded message of their business hours wondering why no one was answering. They must really be busy.

My head tilted, and I looked at the dark foyer. I could just grab my keys and head over there, but the presence of so many cops on the street had me worried about my suspended license.