The FIB detective was silent as he opened his door, then paused to look at me over the roof of the car. He put on his shades, hiding his eyes. “You’re right. It’s not my business.”

The door unlocked, and I got in, slamming it to make the car shake. Glenn slid softly in behind the wheel and shut his door.

“Damn right it isn’t your business,” I muttered in the closeness of his car. “You heard her last night. I’m not her shadow. She wasn’t lying when she said that.”

“I also heard Piscary say if she didn’t get control of you, he would.”

A flash of real fear tightened me, unwanted and unsettling. “I’m her friend,” I asserted. “All she wants is a friend that isn’t after her blood. Ever think of that?”

“A pet, Rachel?” he said softly as he started the car.

I said nothing, tapping my fingers on the armrest. I wasn’t Ivy’s pet. And not even Piscary could make her turn me into one.

Ten

The late September afternoon sun was warm through my leather jacket as I rested my arm on the car’s window. The tiny vial of salt on my charm bracelet shifted in the wind to clink against my wooden cross, and reaching out, I adjusted the side mirror to watch the traffic hanging a car length behind. It was nice to have a vehicle at my beck and call. We’d be at the FIB in fifteen minutes, not the forty it would take by bus, afternoon traffic and all. “Take a right at the next light,” I said, pointing.

I watched in disbelief as Glenn drove straight through the intersection. “What the Turn is wrong with you!” I exclaimed. “I have yet to get in this car and you go where I want you to.”

Glenn’s expression was smug behind his sunglasses. “Shortcut.” He grinned, his teeth startlingly white. It was the first real smile I had seen on him, and it took me aback.

“Sure,” I said, waving a hand in the air. “Show me your shortcut.” I doubted it would be faster, but I wasn’t going to say anything. Not after that smile.

My head turned to follow a familiar sign on one of the passing buildings. “Hey! Stop!” I shouted, spinning halfway around in my seat. “It’s a charm shop.”

Glenn checked behind him and made an illegal U-turn. I gripped the top of the window as he made another, pulling up right before the shop and parking at the curb. I opened the door and grabbed my bag. “I’ll just be a minute,” I said, and he nodded, moving his seat backward and leaning his head against the headrest.

Leaving him to nap, I strode into the shop. The bells above the door jingled, and I took a slow breath, feeling myself relax. I liked charm shops. This one smelled like lavender, dandelion, and the bite of chlorophyll. Bypassing the ready-made spells, I went straight to the back where the raw materials were.