Jenks rose up, his wings shifting to purple. “You can bet your mother’s panties I will.”

“Rachel!” Ivy exclaimed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I tore open the bag of mozzarella and dumped it over the pizza. “I’m making Jenks a full partner. Got a problem with that? He’s been working too much overtime for anything less.”

“No,” she said, staring at me across the kitchen. “I mean going back to Kalamack’s!”

Jenks hovered next to me to make a united front. “Shut your mouth, Tamwood. She needs a disc to prove Kalamack is a biodrug runner.”

“I don’t have a choice,” I said, pushing the cheese so hard it spilled over the edge.

Ivy leaned back in her chair with an exaggerated slowness. “I know you want him, but think it through, Rachel. Trent can accuse you of everything from trespassing to impersonating I.S. personnel to looking at his horses cross-eyed. If you get caught, you’re toast.”

“If I accuse Trent without solid proof, he will slide through the courts on a technicality.” I couldn’t look at her. “It has to be fast and idiot proof. Something the media can get their teeth into and run with.” My motions were jerky as I picked up the cheese I had spilled and put it back on the pizza. “I have to get one of those discs, and tomorrow I will.”

A small noise of disbelief came from Ivy. “I can’t believe you’re rushing back, no plans, no preparations. Nothing. You already tried the no-thinking approach and you got caught.”

My face burned. “Just because I don’t plan out my trips to the bathroom, it doesn’t mean I’m not a good runner,” I said tightly.

Her jaw clenched. “I never said you weren’t a good runner. I only meant a little planning might save you some embarrassing mistakes, like what happened today.”

“Mistakes!” I exclaimed. “Look here, Ivy. I’m a damn fine runner.”

She arched her thin eyebrows. “You haven’t had a clean tag in the last six months.”

“That wasn’t me, that was Denon! He admitted it. And if you are so unimpressed with my abilities, why did you beg that I let you come with me?”

“I didn’t,” Ivy said. Her eyes narrowed and spots of anger appeared on her cheeks.

Not wanting to argue with her, I turned to put the pizza in the oven. The dry whoosh of air made my cheeks tighten and sent wisps of my hair floating into my eyes. “Yes, you did,” I muttered, knowing she could hear me, then said louder, “I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Really?” she said from right behind me. I stifled a gasp and whipped around. Jenks was standing on the windowsill next to Mr. Fish, white-faced. “So tell me,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s your perfect plan?”

Not wanting her to know she had scared me, I brushed past her, deliberately showing her my back as I scraped the flour off the counter with that big knife. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I turned to find her just where I had left her, even if her arms were crossed and a dark shadow was flitting behind her eyes. My pulse quickened. I knew I shouldn’t have been arguing with her.