But David had leaned close, clearly wanting to listen in. I angled the phone and stifled a quiver at the silence on the open line. This felt good. Damn it, Al. Right again.

“Pike?” I said, hearing only a soft breathing. “It’s Rachel.”

I waited, but there was nothing, and my eyes flicked to David.

“Ah, I want to talk to you,” I added, hand over my other ear to try to block out the noise. Still, there was nothing, and I began to get peeved. “Pike?” I tried again, voice sharp, and this time, a clear intake of breath sounded.

“Are you at a party?” Pike’s gravel voice said in wonder, and I grimaced.

“No, but my church is full of your boss’s refugees,” I said, feeling good about them for the first time. They trusted me, and I needed that show of support, even if being in my church was the extent of it. “They’re blowing off some steam.”

“I didn’t agree with what she did with Nash—” he said.

Anger flushed hot through me. “I don’t care a floating troll turd what you agree or don’t agree with,” I said, interrupting him. “I want to talk to you about finding an agreement with Constance. What she would expect from me and what I can expect from her in return.” Giving in, I reached past David and took a pretzel. “She made her point,” I said around my crunching. “We should be able to come to some arrangement of shared power.” Ha-ha. As if.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Pike said, but his suspicion was obvious.

“You’d be surprised what and who I’ve had to make deals with before,” I said, and David scrubbed a hand over his stubble in concern. “So . . . You. Me. Eden Park Overlook. Twin Lakes Bridge. Five tonight. I need some time to whip up a few curses so I’m not a pushover to your vampiric charms.” Not to mention the sun went down right before seven and I wanted Constance out of it for the moment. She’d get her turn. Half of any battle was won in the mind, and fear worked best when it had some time to fester.

“Ah, Twin Lakes Bridge isn’t coming up on my GPS,” he muttered.

“It’s that teensy footbridge over the two recirculating ponds by the parking lot,” I said. “I assumed you’d want to meet over water so I can’t reach a ley line, but if you want to do this on a park bench, I’m good with that. Oh, and come alone.”

Pike chuckled. “Alone won’t happen.”

I glanced at David as he frowned. Yeah, I’d probably have Jenks with me, too, and I took another pretzel. “Then keep them back, okay? I get nervous with too many people around.”

I hung up before he could answer. David was eyeing me in concern, and I shrugged.

“You’re not really talking to him about finding an arrangement with Constance, are you?” he asked.

“Not the way he thinks, no.” I pulled the bag of pretzels closer and searched for unbroken ones. “She’ll send Pike, whether to find out if I’m serious or simply to try to kill me and be done with it. Either way, I’ll impress on him that if Constance wants me dead she’ll have to come out of the I.S. and do it herself.” My words were light, but yes, I was worried. “Whereupon I be-the-demon and convince her of the need to play nice in my sandbox. Life goes back to normal.”

I crunched through a pretzel, searching David’s expression for a hint of agreement as he leaned back against the piano. “He’s stronger than you, faster.”

“That’s why I’m spending the rest of the day in my belfry spelling,” I said, forcing a smile. “Relax. I work best when I’m improvising.” But David’s words were well-taken. I was playing with fire. Again. Too bad I’d lost my fireproof gloves when the demons decided not to help me.

“That you do.” David had his hat back on, and I felt a surge of relief. He thought I could do it. “I’m coming with you.”

“Thank you,” I said, my gratitude heavy on me. “But just you. No pack.”

“Agreed.” He looked over the sanctuary, his smile going tight. “I’ll call you by four so you can tell me where you want me. Are you going to warn Edden, or should I?”

“Can we keep him out of it?” I asked, almost whining, and David grinned.

“We can try. But you will call Trent!” he said over his shoulder as he turned to the door, and a romantic-based “ooooooooh . . .” rose up from the witches clustered at the table.

I waved my agreement, but my hand curved around my middle in worry as David left. Calling Trent was probably a good idea. I might need bail money before this was over.

CHAPTER

14

“Can’t put it back, black coin ill spent. Ten thousand years, at detriment,” Takata sang, his low, rough voice ragged through my MINI’s speakers, and I wondered if black coin was a metaphor for magical smut or oil. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“Down in the earth, buried deep. Down where the demons sleep,” I spoke/sang with him, our voices eerily similar. “Down where God can’t speak. Black coin spent, our soul to keep. So as you sow, so shall you reap. So as you sow, your children weep. Just killing time, as black coin seeps.”

I sighed as my birth father wound up from the low monotone into a healthy, headbanger howl for the last five seconds of the song, screaming the chorus, “Just killing time. Just killing time. Just killing time,” over and over until I clicked the radio off. Seemed I came by my rebel tendencies naturally.

“Bet he can do that song only once a night,” Jenks said from my rearview mirror, and I nodded, my mood slowly evolving into an angry depression as my thoughts swung back to Nash. Maybe if I had womaned up sooner, he wouldn’t be dead. The pixy’s dust shifted and settled as I made the tight turn into Eden Park Overlook. I took the spot at the end so if I had to leave fast, I could drive over the grass and be gone.

I cracked the window for Jenks, settled back, and reached for my coffee. I was early, but that wasn’t why I stayed in my car, carefully scanning the park spreading between me and Cincinnati. That Nash had died in so much needless pain pissed me off, and the more angry I got, the more I questioned my motives for meeting Pike. Was I looking for an excuse to hurt him? Do I care if I do?

David was already here, looking sharp in his expensive go-to-church duster since the one he’d wrapped Nash in was at the cleaners. Confident and smiling, he encouraged the few people taking advantage of the late afternoon to shift to another, less dangerous part of the park. I appreciated his efforts, seeing as, if he was doing it, I wouldn’t have to—possibly finding the thugs Constance had most likely sent in an assassination attempt.

“I can’t believe you brought him coffee,” Jenks said, and my eyes went to the rearview mirror and the steep drop-off to the Ohio River behind me. It wouldn’t be unheard-of for someone to come up that way, but why when you could simply drive up here with a gun?