Her eyes flicked to Ivy and she grinned. “Mum’s the word,” she said. “Is it for that gorgeous hunk of man with you? Saints preserve us, he’s beautiful. I’d love to trick him.”

She laughed, and I managed a weak smile. Did the entire city know Jenks? Ivy rocked back a step in irritation, and the woman finished wrapping my black candle in matching tissue paper and bundled everything into a paper sack. Still smiling, she totaled it up.

“It’ll be $85.33 with tax,” she said, clearly satisfied.

I stifled my sigh and swung my shoulder bag forward to get my wallet. This was why I had a witch’s garden—and a clan of pixies to maintain it. Not only was ley line magic stupid, but it was expensive if you didn’t render your own fetal pigs for making candles. Just this once.

Ivy pushed her two things forward, and looking the proprietor in the eye, said clearly, “Just put it on my bill. I need three ounces of Special K. Medicinal grade, please.”

My lips parted and I flushed. Special K? That was Cincy slang for Brimstone, K of course said to stand for Kalamack.

But the woman hesitated only briefly. “Not from the I.S., are you?” she asked warily.

“Not anymore,” Ivy muttered, and flustered, I turned my back on them. Ivy saw nothing wrong with an illegal drug that had kept vampire society healthy and intact for untold years, but buying in front of me made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Ivy,” I protested when the woman disappeared into the back room again. “Trent’s?”

Ivy gave me a sidelong glance, eyebrows high. “It’s the only brand I’ll buy. And I need to restock my cache. You used it all.”

“I’m not taking any more,” I hissed, then straightened when the woman returned, holding a palm-sized package wrapped in masking tape.

“Medicinal?” she said, glancing at the aphrodisiac bottle. “You store it in that, lucky duck, and you’ll be the one that’s going to need medical attention.”

Ivy’s face blanked in surprise, and I dragged my bag from the counter, ready to flee. “It’s an aphrodisiac bottle,” I said. “Don’t pick things up unless you know what they are—Alexia.”

Ivy looked as guiltless as a puppy as she dropped the package into her open purse.

The woman smiled at us, and Ivy counted out thirteen hundred-dollar bills and coolly handed them over.

I blinked. Holy shit. Kalamack’s medicinal stuff was five times as expensive as the street variety.

“Keep the change,” Ivy said, taking my elbow and moving me to the door.

Twelve hundred dollars? I had sucked down twelve hundred dollars of drugs in less than twenty-four hours? And that wasn’t counting Jenks’s contribution. “I don’t feel well,” I said, putting a hand to my stomach.

“You just need some air.”