Ivy lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “It’s not like we can do anything until spring.”

“I suppose.” God, this was depressing. I had to find a way to apologize to Jenks. Maybe if I sent him a clown-delivered telegram. Maybe if I was the clown. “I’ll talk to him again,” I said. “Take him some honey. Maybe if I get him drunk, he’ll forgive me for being such an ass.”

“I’ll pick some up while I’m out,” she offered. “I saw some gourmet honey made from Japanese cherry blossoms.” Dumping the water from the thermos, she refilled it with the entire carafe of coffee, sealing the heavenly scent in metal and glass.

Biting back my disappointment, I pulled my feet off her chair. Obviously she had been thinking about how to soothe Jenks’s pride as well. “So where are you going this late with a thermos of coffee, a bag of stakes, and that sword?” I asked.

Ivy leaned against the counter with the sleek grace of a black panther, the half-eaten bagel perched on her fingertips. “I have to lean on some uppity vamps. Keep them up past their bedtime. The sword is for show, the stakes to remember me by, and the coffee is for me.”

I made a face, imagining just how nasty it could be to have Ivy keep you up. Especially if she applied herself. But then my eyes widened as I put two and two together. “You’re doing this for Piscary?” I said, sure I was right when she turned to look out the window.

“Yup.”

Silently I waited, hoping she’d say something. She didn’t. I ran my attention over her, taking in her closed posture. “Your dad worked something out?” I hinted.

She sighed and turned to me. “As long as I handle Piscary’s affairs, the bastard won’t be dipping into my head.” She looked at her half-eaten bagel. Frowning, she clacked her boots to the trash and threw it away.

I said nothing, surprised she had capitulated so easily. Apparently hearing in my silence an accusation that wasn’t there, her smooth face went ashamed. “Piscary agreed to let me continue using Kisten as my frontman,” she said. “He likes the notoriety, and anyone who is important will know that whatever he says is really coming from me—I mean, Piscary. I don’t have to do anything unless Kisten runs into something he can’t handle. Then I’ll go in as the muscle to bail him out.”

My memories returned to Kisten taking down seven witches with the ease and nonchalance of breaking a candy bar. I couldn’t imagine anything he couldn’t handle, but then again, he wouldn’t be able to go up against undead vampires without leaning on Piscary’s strength. “And you’re okay with this?” I said stupidly.

“No,” she said, crossing her arms before her. “But it’s what my dad came up with, and if I can’t accept how he helped me, I shouldn’t have asked for it.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, wishing I had kept my mouth shut.