“Rache?” Jenks landed on my shoulder, probably concerned at my silence. “You okay?”

I glanced at Ivy’s worried expression across from me, thinking I ought to be able to get a laugh out of this situation. “I’m gonna get him,” I bluffed.

Jenks flitted up and away, his wings clattering in alarm. Nick turned from the grill, and Ivy stiffened. “Whoa, wait a moment,” she said, flicking Jenks a look.

“No one does that to me!” I added, clenching my jaw so I wouldn’t smile and ruin it.

Keasley’s brow furrowed. Eyes pinched, he sat back.

Ivy went paler than usual in the candlelight. “Slow down, Rachel,” she warned. “He didn’t do anything. He just wanted to get the last word. Let it go.”

“I’m going back!” I shouted, standing to put some distance between us in case I was yanking her chain too hard and she came after me. “I’ll show him,” I said, waving an arm. “I’ll sneak in. I’ll steal his freaking glasses and mail them back to him in a freaking birthday card!”

Ivy stood, her eyes going black. “You do that, and he’ll kill you!”

She actually thinks I’d go back? Was she nuts? My chin trembled as I tried not to laugh. Keasley saw it, and he chuckled, reaching for his unopened wine.

Ivy spun with a vamp quickness. “What are you laughing about, witch?” she said, leaning forward. “She’s going to kill herself. Jenks, tell her she’s going to kill herself. I’m not going to let you do this, Rachel. I swear, I’ll tie you to Jenks’s stump before I let you go back!”

Her teeth were a gleam in the moonlight and she was wound tight enough to pop. One more word, and she might make good her threat. “Okay,” I said lightly. “You’re right. I’ll leave him alone.”

Ivy froze. A heavy sigh slipped from Nick at the grill. Keasley’s gnarly fingers were slow as they pulled the foil from the top of his bottle. “Oooh doggies, she got you, Tamwood,” he said, laughing low and rich. “She got you good.”

Ivy stared, her pale, perfect face marred with shock and the sudden realization that she’d been had. A stunned bewilderment, quickly followed by relief and then bother, crossed her. She took a breath. Holding it, her face went sullen. Eyes tight and angry, she dropped back down to the picnic table’s bench and shook out the paper.

Jenks was laughing, making circles of pixy dust to sift down like sunbeams to glitter on her shoulders. Grinning, I rose and went to the grill. That had felt good. Almost as good as stealing the disc. “Hey, Nick,” I said, slipping up behind him. Those steaks done yet?”

He gave me a sideways smile. “Coming right up, Rachel.”

Good. I’d figure everything else out later.

Acknowledgements

I’d like to thank the people who suffered through me during the rewrites. You know who you are, and I salute you. But I’d especially like to thank my editor, Diana Gill, for her wonderful suggestions that opened up delightful avenues of thought, and my agent Richard Curtis.