Expression becoming pinched, Vivian sank back into the seat. I said nothing. As far as I was concerned, he was a black witch. And it bothered me, probably because I thought I might be one, too. Maybe I was being too harsh. Maybe.

Pierce gave me an angry look. “I’d be free tonight if not for your misguided, ignorant stupidity.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, unable to look up at him. “It’s all my fault. And if you killed Al, where would I be? You can’t protect me from Newt. Like it or not, I need Al. Go kill someone else’s demon to make yourself a man, Mr. Black Magic User.”

Pierce became silent as the Were in one flip-flop finished his set and got down amid a too-enthusiastic round of cheers.

“To freedom,” Trent said, startling me. His glass was raised and, fingers fumbling, Pierce picked up his mostly empty glass and the two clinked.

Men. “Well, excuse me for trying to stay alive,” I said, elbows on the table. I didn’t like being here without Ivy or Jenks. “And I thought you didn’t like Trent.”

Pierce had taken a gulp, his eyes watering at the bubbles popping. “I can drink with a man and not like him,” he said, and Trent smiled that infuriating men’s-club smile.

“I bet you can,” I said, but I was busy looking over the moving heads for Ivy. Shouldn’t she be back by now? How long did it take to bite someone, anyway? Or was it the cleanup that took so long? I’d never been bitten where I wasn’t fighting for my life three seconds later. Must be I was doing it wrong.

“Excuse me,” Trent said suddenly, and my attention jerked to him as he rose and nearly pushed Vivian out of the booth.

“Where are you going?” I asked suspiciously.

Trent hesitated next to the table, and Vivian slipped back in. “The washroom.” His eyes went to his empty beer glass, then back to me. Slipping into the narrow path, he wove his way to the back of the restaurant, past the kitchens and the big sign proclaiming BUOYS and GULLS. Catchy.

My head started to hurt. This might be my only chance to talk to Trent alone. Sighing, I stood, saying, “Vivian, you got Pierce, okay?”

Vivian looked at me in bewilderment, letting go of the straw she was downing her soda with. “He needs watching? What’s he going to do?”

“I don’t need watching,” Pierce said indignantly, and I swung my legs over the edge of the boat the way Ivy had. She’d probably looked better doing it, though. Not answering Vivian, I pushed into motion to follow Trent, noticing that he was getting some appreciative glances from the surrounding patrons. He didn’t give any indication that he knew I was behind him as the noise of the restaurant was replaced by the clatter and steam of the kitchen, and then the muted noise of the back hallway.

“Trent,” I said as he reached the door to the restroom. Arm stiff, he pushed the door open and went in, not acknowledging that I was behind him.