Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “On the bridge,” Jenks said, and my pace quickened. “So far, they’re ignoring each other. I think they’re waiting.”

            For me? I wondered, gaze rising at the garbled, dueling bullhorns. People had begun to push back as I passed, and I touched my braid, nervous.

            “It’s not your hair,” Jenks said, and I followed his attention over my shoulder and winced. Several sign-toting packs had fallen in line behind me. They were silent as they kept up, but their very presence forced the people ahead to take notice and move out of the way.

            “Ahh . . .” I murmured, not sure I was entirely comfortable with this, but it did make it easier to walk, and the crowd behind me grew and the one ahead thinned until, almost like magic, the way parted to leave a clear path to the bridge.

            Weres couldn’t see ley lines, but I suspected they could sense them, seeing as Al’s ley line ran clear and true before me, not a single scruffy face or expensive leather boot even hinting at touching it. David’s familiar silhouette paced before Romulus and Remus, the statue of the lactating wolf and the two infants a gift from Rome itself. Cassie was there as well, her arms swinging and her mood clearly bad as she argued with him.

            “Why are you bein’ so stubborn about this!” she shouted, her accent clear over the noise of the bullhorn blaring at the parking lot.

            “Because it is my problem!” David yelled back, visibly starting when he caught sight of me and the nearly fifty Weres behind me.

            “It’s our problem, David,” I said, then stopped, turning to the advancing horde with a frown. “It’s all our problem, but go sit somewhere, will you? You’re crowding my space.”

            Grins showed, and they began to break up, the packs quickly organizing to make a wall between us and the rest of the world. Parker was on the other side of the footbridge, and I warred with the desire to simply go over there and beat the answer of who the mage was out of her.

            David limped forward with Cassie, worry hard on him. “Rachel,” he said, tone bland.

            Cassie stood behind him, hip cocked, arms over her chest, clearly upset. Her bruises were healing, but she still looked sore. “Hi, Rachel,” she mocked, voice high.

            But she wasn’t mad at me, and I tugged David into a careful hug to reassure myself that he was okay. I breathed him in, thinking the scent of Were was a close second to the delicious danger of a pissed-off elf. “You shouldn’t have tried to leave her behind,” I said, meaning Cassie, and he winced, deepening his few wrinkles about his eyes.

            “Yeah.” Jenks hovered close, wings clattering. “It just pisses us off.”

            “How are you doing? Better?” I asked as I looked him up and down.

            “Better,” he said, and I let go of him, my attention drawn to Mrs. Sarong as she pushed through our living wall, her intent to talk obvious. Her expensive jewelry and stark white business suit with matching high heels made her look vulnerable out here on the grass amid her rougher, heavily tattooed kin, but I was willing to bet her thousand-dollar purse held a pistol.

            “This is exactly why I came out here alone,” David said, a shaky hand rubbing his attractive stubble in worry. “This was to be a quick, quiet meeting to beat the tar out of Parker and convince her to leave. No one else was supposed to even be here. No one was supposed to get hurt but me.”

            I knew how that felt, and I nodded. “It sucks to have people care about you,” I said, and Cassie made a rude snort. “David, you can’t fight her,” I added, and his jaw set.

            “The hell I can’t.”

            The footbridge was beginning to clear, and my pulse quickened as I caught a glimpse of Parker standing on it as if it was a pulpit, brazen with a misplaced confidence, her bruises and bandages only making her seem stronger. “You fight her, and this turns into a full-scale riot,” I said, and David’s eyes narrowed. “But I can end it today by calling for an alpha challenge. Her and me.”

            “This is not your fight,” he said, and Cassie took a hasty breath, pushing forward.

            But I was faster, and I shoved his shoulder, jerking his attention to me as he winced in pain. “The reason Parker is even here is because I gave you the focus,” I said. “That makes it my fight. Cassie can abdicate her position for an hour. Parker can’t refuse an alpha challenge.”