“What, not going to hang around for cake?” I snapped, snatching at the envelope. I’d take his money. Then buy a lawyer to put him in jail with Trent, currently out on bail.

Quen jerked the envelope out of my reach, his face creasing in bother. “This isn’t yours.”

Pixy kids were starting to gather around the doorframe, and Jenks made an ear-piercing chirp. “Hi, Quen, is that mine?” he said as his kids scattered, laughing.

The elf nodded, and I cocked my hip, not believing this. “You’re going to stiff me again?” I exclaimed.

“Mr. Kalamack isn’t paying you for arresting him,” Quen said stiffly.

“I kept him breathing, didn’t I?”

At that, Quen lost his ire, chuckling as he touched his chin and rocked back on his heels. “You have a lot of nerve, Morgan.”

“It’s what keeps me alive,” I said sourly, starting when I found Rex at the foot of the belfry stairway, staring at me. God! Creepy little cat.

“Do tell.” He hesitated, looking past me before he brought his attention back. “Jenks, I’ve got your paperwork.” He went to hand the envelope to him, then hesitated again. I could see why. The envelope was three times Jenks’s weight if it was an ounce.

“Just give it to Rache,” Jenks said, landing on my shoulder, and I smugly held out my hand for it. “Ivy’s got a safe we can put it into.”

Quen sourly handed it over, and, curious, I opened it up. It wasn’t money. It was a deed. It had our address on it. And Jenks’s name.

“You bought the church?” I stammered, and the pixy darted off my shoulder, literally glowing. “Jenks, you bought the church?”

Jenks grinned, the dust slipping from him a clear silver. “Yup,” he said proudly. “After Piscary tried to evict us, I couldn’t risk you two lunkers losing it in a poker game or something.”

I stared at the paper. Jenks owned the church? “Where did you get the money?”

In a flash of vampire incense, Ivy was beside me. She pulled the paper from my slack fingers, eyes wide.

Quen shifted his weight, his shoes gently scuffing. “Good evening, Jenks,” he said, his voice carrying a new respect. “Working with you was enlightening.”

“Whoa, wait up,” I demanded. “Where did you get the money for this?”

Jenks grinned. “Rent is due on the first, Rache. Not the second, or the third, or the first Friday of the month. And I expect you to pay to get it resanctified.”

Quen slipped down the steps with hardly a sound. Ceri was coming up the walk, and the two passed with wary, cautious words. She had a covered plate in her hands: the cake, presumably. She glanced back once as she rose up the stairs, and I moved so she could come in. Ivy, though, was too struck to move.