Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            Trent’s eyes narrowed. “There it is,” he muttered, but I took the paper, not surprised.

            “Of course she does,” I said, glancing from the mouse eagerly waiting at the edge of the table to the literal mouse-scratching on the paper. The words were tiny and sloppy, and I squinted at them. “Ah, I can’t read this . . .”

            “I can.” Jenks dropped to hover over the page. “She says she will keep Finnis out of Cincinnati, but in return, she wants your protection.”

            “From Finnis,” I said to be sure, and Constance made a “go on” motion. “And the DC vampires who sent you here,” I added, and she bobbed her head dramatically. “Okay. I can do that within reason, but I’m going to want acceptable behavior from you, or my protection vanishes. What else?” There was a lot of tiny print there. I was sure there was more.

            Jenks eased closer to the page, squinting. “She wants the I.S.”

            “Seriously?” I said, wishing I could say I was surprised.

            “Absolutely not,” Quen said, and Trent grimaced, clearly agreeing.

            “That’s not happening,” I said, and the mouse began to scream, her tail whipping the air as she threw her diamond necklace at me. It fell far short, and Jenks darted down, snagging it before it hit the filthy cement. “What I will give you is a voice in city matters equal to that of everyone else I work with. You can have a lower suite in the I.S. with a small staff. Two . . . no, three living vamps. Your choice. Good?”

            “I’d take it,” Pike said, and the mouse sullenly nodded, glaring at Jenks as he modeled her necklace.

            “Ah . . .” Jenks chuckled. “She also wants all the credit and half the proceeds from the soul curse when it goes public.”

            My eyebrows rose. “Really?”

            “Whoa. Wait up.” Trent pushed forward. Behind him, Quen pinched his forehead as if in pain. “That’s not anywhere near going to happen. Rachel developed that curse. She gets the credit for it. You get credit for championing it through the FCSA.”

            The mouse rubbed her thumb and finger together, and Pike smirked.

            “Ah.” Trent glanced at me, and I gestured for him to have at it. “How about five percent of the profits, post-tax, once it’s approved and regulated. Twenty percent until it is approved, but you pay for distribution until it is.”

            “Twenty percent?” I questioned. “Why does she get more before it’s approved?”

            “It works out to be nearly the same when you include the bribes and kickbacks needed to get it on the street before approval,” he said, and Constance’s beady little eyes fixed on him. Her perfect little tail whipped around . . . and then she nodded.

            “Anything else?” I asked, and Jenks shook his head, wings rasping as he sat on my shoulder. “Okay. In return for my protection and a slice of the profits from the soul curse, you agree to play the part of city master vampire to keep out Finnis and anyone else the DC vampires send. In actuality, Ivy, Pike, and I are handling city issues, though I will solicit your advice as the occasion warrants it. Good?”

            There was a lot we hadn’t agreed upon, but as Jenks had said, I could always turn her back. Constance nodded, clearly eager. Ivy and Pike were obviously on board. Jenks was confident in my ability to bring her down should she renege on it. Trent wasn’t so keen, but he trusted me. Quen was not happy, but David had gone to watch Brad play his game, either knowing how this was going to end or simply not caring.

            Apart from the soul curse, it was very close to the deal I’d offered her six months ago, the same that she’d spit on. In hindsight, it was fortuitous that I hadn’t killed her then. Still, there was one more thing I wanted, and I came forward, looming over her, to make Ivy and Pike nervous.

            “I like this,” I said, and Constance flicked her tail, hearing the however. “I have a condition of my own.”

            The mouse stared up at me, whiskers trembling.

            “Me, my family, my team, and my team’s families are entirely off-limits.” I put a hand to either side of her, remembering what it was like to be so small. “Including but not limited to Ivy,” I said, to make things perfectly clear. “Jenks, Pike, Trent, David, and Zack. If I come to you and say no—on any person—you back off.”