Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Are you okay?” he said, smiling at I carefully wiped a spot of dirt from his shoulder. “That looks bad,” he added as he took my hands in his.

            “Relax, Cookie Maker,” Jenks said as he hovered, his dust shading to blue. “She’s okay.”

            “Thanks for the warning, Jenks,” I said, then hid my hands as Doyle strutted up.

            Bis glided in from the fountain to my shoulder, his frown one of suspicion. Jenks immediately dropped to Bis’s head, and my entire body seemed to relax when a warming heat emanated from the gargoyle. Elyse and the coven had moved off a short distance, but they weren’t leaving, and I wondered if they wanted to talk, as they were again shooting glances at me. I could hear sirens, and I hoped it was fire trucks, not ambulances. I had a better chance of snagging a pain amulet if it was fire trucks. Dali still had my shoulder bag.

            “You let him get away?” I said to Doyle, and the living vampire gave Trent a respectful nod. “There are like a hundred witches out here. Didn’t anyone think to circle him?”

            “I’m not in charge of this circus,” Doyle said, his smirk widening at Bis’s glare. “I’m only responsible for evidence gathering and testing.”

            “So . . . we can go?” I was not going to hide in the ever-after. This was my home, and I couldn’t do my job from another reality by virtual meetings and remote ass-kicking.

            “You?” Doyle’s chest shifted as he sighed as if unhappy. “You can. There’s an eighty-eight percent likelihood that the curse that killed Vivian came from Lee. You pinged at twelve percent. That is a statistical zero when the sample comes from an area you occupy. Residual aura settlement.”

            “Told you,” Jenks said, the dust spilling from him a bright silver. Trent’s arm slipped around my waist, and I leaned into him, tired.

            “Good.” My attention went to the lingering I.S. agents, all of them ignoring me. For now.

            “Mr. Kalamack, though . . .” Doyle added, and Jenks’s wings hummed a warning. “Things are not so clear.”

            Trent’s hold on me tightened. Doyle, though, was looking up at Carew Tower, not us, and I gave his hand a squeeze to relax.

            “Word is that Finnis’s plane never got off the ground,” Doyle said, his voice carefully casual. “Seems that Constance made a few calls this afternoon, right before sunset.” He hesitated, wincing. “You freed her? I fail to see how this is any better than Finnis.”

            “Give her some time,” I said, beginning to think we might have done it. Or at least, put it off for a while. “I took a lot of stress from her, and she is not dumb, just frustrated. Can you arrange a suite in the I.S. for her? Small staff of three. She’s going to take classes on properly directing anger and city management.” I hesitated. “She’s not in charge. I am.”

            Doyle sucked on his teeth, clearly not happy as he glanced at the remaining coven members being checked over by the arriving paramedics. “Yeah, I can do that.”

            “We good, then?” I asked, needing to hear it from him.

            Doyle smiled, lips closed. “I imagine so. Everyone will be busy trying to figure out who has the longest teeth for a while.” He hesitated, and Trent stiffened when the living vampire reluctantly pulled an envelope from an inner pocket.

            “That doesn’t look like a check, Rache,” Jenks said, and I frowned.

            “It’s a warrant for Trent.” Doyle tapped it against his palm. “I’ll hold on to this for twenty-four hours,” he said, gaze going across the plaza to where Quen was talking with David. “Seeing as you are busy cleaning up our mess.”

            “Seriously?” I almost whined as I prodded my ribs, and the vampire laughed, his low voice pulling the attentions of everyone within earshot.

            “Sorry,” he said, and Bis’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “The only act you were wanted for was killing Vivian with illicit magic. Kalamack’s business efforts, though appreciated, are still illegal. We could turn a blind eye to that as usual, but the claims of illegal genetic treatments can’t be overlooked.” He hesitated, head inclined to Trent. “At least, not without the proper kickbacks.”

            It was as good as I was going to get. Twenty-four hours would be more than enough time for Trent to find the money. I think.