“He looked at me, eyebrows high and the sun glinting on his disguise-black hair. “You do the damnedest things in order to rile yourself up. Most people settle for doing it in an elevator, but not you. No, you have to make sure it’s a vampire you’re playing kissy-face with.” Heat washed through me, pulled by anger and embarrassment. Ivy had said the same thing. “I do not!” “Rache,” he cajoled, sitting up to match my posture. “Look at yourself. You’re an adrenaline junkie. You not only need danger to make good in the bedroom, you need it to get through your normal day.” “Shut up!” I shouted, giving him a backhanded thwack on his shoulder. “I like adventure, that’s all.”
“Jenks’s gaze was even and calm, wise and even a bit sad. The wind ruffled his hair, and the sound of the pixies grew obvious. “No,” he said. “I don’t think you do.” I glared, and he added, “I think it would kill you quicker than going to see Piscary wearing gothic lace. I think managing to find a blood balance with Ivy is going to be the only way you’re going to survive. Besides…” He grinned impishly. “…no one but Ivy will put up with the things you need or the crap you dish out.”
“It’s going to be all right. You’re going to be all right. She’s going to leave. You don’t have to worry about her again. I won’t let any vampire hurt you. I can do this. I’ll stay big, and make sure no one hurts you again. It’ll be okay. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
“The seraph looked up, and pain sliced through my head as our eyes met, almost blinding me. "I honor you. You can do something I cannot," it said softly. "For all I am and all I have been, you are human. You are loved for your inventiveness, both good and bad. I can kill, but you can create. You can even create...an end," it said wistfully. "That's something I will never be able to do. Accept this. Create.”
“You pompous little bitch!” the infuriated Were shouted, red-faced and with his thugs backing him. “What are you doing here?” Mrs. Sarong pushed past the men who had put themselves in front of her. “Arranging your removal,” she said, her voice sharp and her eyes glaring. Removal? As if he were an overgrown tree clogging the sewer line? The short businessman seemed to choke on his own breath, becoming choleric. Mouth gaping to look like one of his prize fish, he struggled to respond. “Like hell you are!” he finally managed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to her about!” From my shoulder came a small, “Holy crap, Rache. How did you become Cincy’s assassin of choice?”
“Come work for me, and I’ll tell you.”My eyes went to his. “You are a thief, a cheat, a murderer, and a not-nice man,” I said calmly. “I don’t like you.”He shrugged, the motion making him look utterly harmless. “I’m not a thief,” he said. “And I don’t mind manipulating you into working for me when I need it.” He smiled, showing me perfect teeth. “I enjoy it, actually.”
“Again Al touched me, but this time, his hand was gentle on my shoulder. “And if you’re not, it’s Ku’Sox. He knows you’re too protected here, and you’re a threat to him. He’s summoning you. He’s summoning you to where I can’t follow. He’s going to try to kill you!”