“I’d appreciate it if you would inform the I.S. you’re paying off my contract,” I said. “Before I set foot out of this room,” I added, tugging the ACG blanket closer.

Edden set the vial down with a reverent slowness. “With Percy’s confession, Kalamack can’t buy his way out of this.” A smile played about his square face. “Clayton tells me we got the Brimstone at the airport, too. I ought to get out from behind my desk more often.”

I sipped my coffee. The bitter swill filled my mouth, and I reluctantly swallowed. “How about that call?” I said as I set the cup down and looked at the red amulet glowing in my lap.

Edden sat up with a grunt and took out a slim cell phone. Cradling it in his left hand, he hit a single digit with his thumb. I looked at Jenks to see if he noticed. The pixy’s wings blurred, and with an impatient look, he slid from Nick and walked stiffly down the table to me. I raised him up to my shoulder before he could ask. Levering himself close to my ear, Jenks whispered, “He’s got the I.S. on speed dial.”

“How about that,” I said, the tape pulling on my eyebrow as I tried to raise it.

“I’m going to wring every drop of gloat out of this one,” Edden said, slouching back in his chair as the phone rang. The white vial stood out before him like a tiny trophy. “Denon!” he shouted. “Full moon next week. How you doing?”

My jaw dropped. It wasn’t the I.S. Edden had on speed dial. It was my old boss. And he was alive? The demon hadn’t killed him? He must have had someone else do his dirty work.

Edden harrumphed, clearly misunderstanding my surprise, before turning his attention back to the phone. “That’s great,” he said, interrupting Denon. “Listen. I want you to call off the run you have on a Ms. Rachel Morgan. Maybe you know her? She used to work for you.” There was a slight pause, and I almost caught what Denon said, it was so loud. On my shoulder, Jenks fanned his wings in agitation. A sly smile came over Edden.

“You do remember her?” Edden said. “Great. Call your people off. We’re paying for it.” Again a hesitation, and his smile grew. “Denon, I’m offended. She can’t work for the FIB. I’ll move the funds when the accounts open in the morning. Oh, and could you send one of your trolleys out to the main bus depot? I’ve three witches needing extradition to Inderlander custody. They were making a ruckus, and since we were in the neighborhood, we downed them for you.”

There was a spate of angry conversation from the other end, and Jenks gasped. “Ooooh, Rachel,” he stammered. “He’s ticked.”

“No,” Edden said firmly, sitting straighter. He was clearly enjoying this. “No,” he said again, grinning. “You should have thought about that before you set them on her.”