For a moment there was silence. Then Edden took the lid off his coffee. “Piscary is in my lobby,” he said tightly. “He says you want to talk to him. How am I supposed to keep you alive through your testimony when Piscary comes to my department to kill you?”

I glanced at Jenks, who was starting to shed a faint trail of glittering dust in agitation. “Piscary didn’t come here to kill me,” I said, hiding my jitters behind a sip of coffee. “I asked him here. I want to arrange some protection from him for me and Kisten.”

Edden went markedly still as I guiltily swallowed more coffee and set the cup down. The acidic drink hit my stomach, where it sat to make me feel ill. Piscary was a sick wacko—and the only one who could protect me and rescind Kisten’s blood gift.

“You’re buying protection from Piscary?” Edden shook his head, his few wrinkles deepening. “He wants you dead. You put him in jail. He’s not going to forget that just because he’s out. And the word is he made a blood gift out of your boyfriend.” His gaze fell from mine in shame. “Rachel, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything about that.”

A hot feeling of betrayal rose through me, of innocence lost. I knew that nothing could stop Piscary from getting away with treating Kisten like a box of Godiva, but damn it, these were the people who were supposed to keep us safe from the big-bad-uglies. I hated this, but what I hated more was that I had to work in such a depraved system to stay alive. Like I have much choice?

“I’m sorry,” Edden said again, and I glanced at him ruefully so he would know that I understood his position. Hell, I was standing right next to him.

Jenks’s wings clattered, and I shifted the split in my dress to show the present sitting between my feet. My butt-kicking boots looked really odd down there, but I was glad I’d worn them. “I’ve got something he wants more than revenge,” I said, praying I hadn’t overestimated its worth. Though it grated on every fiber of my being, this had to work. It had to.

Edden bent forward to see the blue-foiled package, then leaned back. “I don’t want to know what’s in there. I really don’t want to know.”

I let my hem cover it. “I thought this was the safest place to hammer out an agreement with Piscary,” I said meekly.

“My office?” he barked.

“Well…” I hedged. “Maybe a conference room?”