“Are you all right?”

I stared blankly at him, then remembered. “Oh! The demon—thing,” I muttered, embarrassed as I touched the pain charms about my neck. “You heard about that, huh?”

He smiled with half his mouth. “You made the news. And I had to listen to Ivy for three solid hours while she bitched about not being here at the time.”

Going back to my recipe, I rolled my eyes. “Sorry. Yeah. I’m okay. A few scrapes and bruises. Nothing major. But I can’t tap a line after sundown anymore.” I didn’t want to tell him I wasn’t entirely safe after dark either, unless I was on holy ground … which the kitchen and living room weren’t. “It’s really going to put a crimp in my runs,” I said sourly, wondering how I was going to get around this latest mountain. Oh well. It wasn’t as if I relied on ley line magic. I was an earth witch after all.

Kisten didn’t seem to think it mattered much either, if his casual shrug meant anything. “I’m sorry to hear Jenks left,” he said, stretching his legs out and crossing his boots at his ankles. “He was more than an asset to your company. He’s a good friend.”

My face screwed up into an unpleasant expression. “I should have told him what Trent was when I figured it out.”

Surprise cascaded over him. “You know what Trent Kalamack is? No shit?”

Jaw clenched, I dropped my eyes to the recipe book and nodded, waiting for him to ask it.

“What is he?”

I stayed silent, my eyes fixed on the page. The soft sound of him moving pulled my gaze up.

“Never mind,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.”

Relieved, I gave the chocolate a clockwise stir. “It matters to Jenks. I should have trusted him.”

“Not everyone needs to know everything.”

“You do if you’re four inches tall with wings.”

He got up, drawing my attention as he stretched. With a soft, satisfied sound, his shoulders eased and he collapsed in on himself. Taking his coat off, he headed to the fridge.

I tapped the spoon on the side to flick most of the chocolate off. My brow furrowed. Sometimes it was easier to talk to a stranger. “What am I doing wrong, Kisten?” I said, frustrated. “Why do I drive the people I like away?”

He came out from behind the fridge door with the bag of almonds I’d bought last week. “Ivy’s not leaving.”

“Those are mine,” I said, and he paused until I gestured sourly that he could have them.

“I’m not leaving,” he added, mouth gently moving as he ate one.

I exhaled noisily, dumping the measured sugar into the chocolate. He looked really good over there, and memories kept intruding: thoughts of us dressed up and enjoying ourselves, the spark his black eyes drew through me when Saladan’s heavies lay broken in the street, Piscary’s elevator with me wrapped around him wanting to feel him taking everything I had.…