The innocuous-looking vamp looked over his shoulder to the front door as a rowdy group of young vamps swirled in and what looked like the entire wait staff flocked to them with loud calls and hugs. “Dan was one of my best drivers,” he said. “I’m going to miss him. But I wish him luck. He said it was what he was going to school for.” The slight man brushed the flour from the front of his apron. “Security maintenance, I think he said.”

I exchanged weary looks with Glenn. Ivy straightened on the bench, her usual aloof mien looking strained. A sick feeling went through me. I didn’t want to be the one to tell Sara Jane she had been dumped. Dan had gotten a career job and cut all his old ties, the cowardly sack of crap. I would have bet he had a second girlfriend on the side. He was probably hiding out at her place, letting Sara Jane think he was dead in an alley and laughing as she fed his cat.

Piscary shrugged, his entire body moving with the slight motion. “If I had known he was good at security, I might have made him a better offer, though it would be hard to give more than Mr. Kalamack. I’m just a simple restaurant owner.”

At Trent’s name, I started. “Kalamack?” I said. “He got a job with Trent Kalamack?”

Piscary nodded as Ivy sat stiffly on the bench, her pizza sitting untouched but for the first bite. “Yes,” he said. “Apparently his girlfriend works for Mr. Kalamack, too. I believe her name is Sara? You might want to check with her if you are looking for him.” His long-toothed smile went devious. “She’s probably the one that got him the job, if you know what I mean.”

I knew what he meant, but from the sound of it, Sara Jane hadn’t. My heart pounded and I started to sweat. I knew it. Trent was the witch hunter. He lured Dan with a promise of employment and probably nacked him when Dan tried to back out, realizing what side of the law Trent worked. It was him. Damn him back to the Turn, I had known it!

“Thanks, Mr. Piscary,” I said, wanting to leave so I could start cooking up some spells that night. My stomach tightened, the pleasant slurry of pizza and my gulp of wine going sour in my excitement. Trent Kalamack, I thought bitterly, you are mine.

Ivy set her empty wineglass onto the table. I met her eyes triumphantly, my pleased emotion faltering as she watched herself refill it. She never, ever, drank more than one glass, rightly concerned about lowered inhibitions. My thoughts went back to how she had flaked out in the kitchen after I told her I was going after Trent again.