My stomach quivered, and I dropped my phone in my bag. Splat gun, lethal detection charms, gum, key-chain flashlight, a pair of ankle socks I’d worn the last time Trent tried to teach me golf. Mr. Fish.

Yeah, that ought to do it.

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

You sure you want to do this with Jenks and me?” I said as we slowed at an FIB blockade.

Trent waved at the FIB guys, and recognizing us, they gestured us through. “Absolutely,” he said distantly, and I felt warm, loved in a way. This sucked. It really sucked. It was so not fair to have Trent this close and finally understand what Al and Quen and Jonathan had known all along. What Trent and I wanted was never going to happen. I couldn’t keep dragging him down like this. He could end all of this by taking control of the enclave. But he couldn’t do that with me at his side ...

What we wanted might not make any difference in a few minutes, though. The lights were up high at Mark’s, and I could see figures at the tables even before we parked. My grimace deepened as Jenks checked his sword, and I pulled my shoulder bag onto my lap. Ivy would be fine at her folks’ house, and she was in no state of health to help me.

“I swear, this place has got to be on an invisible ley line or something,” Trent said as we pulled in. There were only a couple of cars, and my brow pinched seeing the people afraid to move as they sat between demons in suits. Crap on toast, Mark is probably in there, too.

“What’s the plan, Rache?” Jenks asked, the snick of his sword catching my attention.

Plan? I looked up from Mr. Fish. “Ah, yeah. Right. Plan.”

Trent put the car in park, and I got out. Hip cocked, I waited for Trent, knowing he probably had that cap and ribbon of his somewhere and needed a moment to get it in place, but he immediately joined me. The music was loud, and there was masculine, aggressive laughter.

“Plan?” Jenks said again, and I waved to the FIB guys at the end of the street. I felt good with them there, even knowing they couldn’t do anything.

“Plan,” I said, rocking into motion when Trent’s shoes scuffed. “How about, let’s go in.”

Jenks’s dust flashed an irate red. “Tink’s titties, that’s her plan? Go in?”

Trent shrugged, relaxed on the surface as he pulled the door open. “Works for me.”

“Just like old times,” Jenks said, cracking his knuckles as he darted in over my head.

“I’ll take the ones on the right,” Trent muttered as the door closed, chimes jingling.