Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            I sighed as Quen and Trent began arguing in quiet, terse voices. I wondered if this was to be my life now: making decisions underground with a few people—a few powerful, good people. I’m not sure Constance fits that description.

            “Ah, no,” I said, and Trent spun, blinking in surprise.

            “See?” Jenks took to the air as Constance began squeaking. “I told you she’d say no. She’s smarter than she looks. Constance stays a mouse. Curse her like you did Parker. Keep her that way.”

            “Hey!” I said as Constance turned her wrath at him, and Jenks merrily flipped her off.

            Thinking it was settled, Trent turned to David. “What do you have in terms of firepower? I might be able to help.”

            “Wait. Slow down.” Pike held up a hand as Ivy’s expression darkened. “Rachel, I truly believe Constance will help. She hates you, but she hates Finnis more.”

            “That’s not convincing me,” I said, and Quen sniggered.

            “Maybe I’m not explaining it correctly.” Brow furrowed, Pike put a hand on his waist and thought for a moment. “I agree that Constance hates you. But most undead vampires hate the person seeing to their needs. That’s not a reason to say no. She’s not suited to hold a city,” he said, voice softening. “She knows it. The DC vamps know it. That’s why they sent her here for you to kill.”

            “Still not convincing me,” I said, and Trent bobbed his head, agreeing.

            “She knows you are stronger than her,” Pike coaxed. “Not just physically, but politically. She knows that if she returns to DC, they will find a way to kill her twice. She needs the protection that you have been giving her.”

            “I haven’t—” I started, glancing at the mouse—then I sighed. I had.

            “You have,” David affirmed, a faint smile on his face. “A city’s master vampire firmly believes he or she is the alpha and omega, A to Z. Constance knows she is not—and she’s terrified. That’s why she is so brutal. Take away her fear, and she will be easier to live with. Guaranteed.”

            Unsure, I turned to Ivy. Her expression was empty, but I trusted her, and when I lifted my shoulders in question, she gave Constance a look to stay put and came forward.

            “Why is she really doing this?” I whispered, but I figured Constance heard me, as she began squeaking, gesturing wildly at the ceiling, floor, me. I thought about giving her a phone, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know her exact thoughts.

            Eyes dark, Ivy took a slow breath. “She’s been watching you since you cursed her,” she said. “What you can do. How you operate. Obviously she thinks she can manipulate you, but mostly, she wants Finnis out of Cincy and she can’t do it. She needs you.”

            I leaned to see past Ivy to where Constance had gone silent, her little white feet planted at the edge of the cardboard box, staring at me. Behind her, Brad snickered and laughed at whatever game currently occupied his entire world. His new wrist cast had so many signatures, it was almost black. “And when Constance gets what she wants, she will try to get rid of me.”

            “I don’t think it will come to that.” Ivy took a slow breath. “Finnis molded her. She’s not mentally capable of ruling a city, but she’s not stupid. She knows she can’t return to DC. I say uncurse her. Once she feels safe, she will relax.”

            “Besides,” Jenks said, his dust shifting an eager gold, “if she doesn’t behave, you can always curse her again.”

            “True.” But even as I nodded, I felt a massive foreboding grip me. I was going to uncurse Constance. I was going to uncurse the crazy vampire, give her a voice, a way to hurt me.

            “Okay,” I whispered, and Trent stiffened. “Keeping Finnis out of Cincy is more than half the battle.”

            “Ah, Rachel?” Trent started, and both Ivy and Constance glared at him. The tension thickened, and I shrugged. As Jenks had said, I could always curse her again.

            “Great!” Clearly excited, Pike turned to the table. Constance was squeaking, her thin, furry arms waving dramatically. “I’ve got it. I’ve got it,” Pike added. “Hold your little furry tail.” Beaming, he took the folded paper that Ivy stoically handed him. “Ah, Rachel? Constance has a few conditions before agreeing to help.”