Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            Jenks had taken to the air, hovering over Cassie’s shoulder as she shuffled through a handful of cards. “I’d go with that one,” he said, and the small woman cringed.

            “Ah, I haven’t had time to get a new license,” she said as she passed it over.

            “That’s fine.” The prickly woman glanced at Jenks, then decided not to ask. Shoulders hunched, she scanned them, and the printer under the counter spit out two passes. Clearly irate, she ripped them free, hesitating as she eyed them, then me, and then the pass again. “You’re Rachel . . . Morgan? Er, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were that witch.”

            My flush of pleasure vanished. That witch? “Thank you,” I said stiffly as I snatched the ID from her grip. Jenks hovered beside me, and Cassie inched closer, the spicy aroma of werefox becoming obvious over the scent of hospital soap.

            “I only meant,” she fumbled, a bright red creeping up her neck as she set Cassie’s ID on the counter. “Your hair is so . . . and you don’t look at all—”

            Her words cut off as Jenks rasped his wings. “You might want to put the shovel down,” he said, and she made a tiny noise.

            “Do you need an escort?” she managed.

            “Third floor?” I asked, and she nodded. “We know the way,” I said, bumping into Cassie as I turned. Crap on toast. We had come out of the closet to save the human species from extinction over forty years ago. It wasn’t as if she’d never talked to a witch before.

            But I wasn’t a witch. I was a witch-born demon, and that was something new.

            “Wow,” Cassie said as she paced along beside me. “That wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Tell me again why we are here? At least when I’m insulted at the I.S. it’s not personal.”

            I came to a halt beside the elevators and hit the up button. “Trust me.” I hit the button again, in quick succession to feel like Ivy. “The things the FIB can do are amazing.”

            Cassie’s frown deepened when the doors opened and three people strode out. A hushed “I think that’s Edden’s witch” made me twitch, and I stepped inside and turned, dead center within the lift.

            “I’m Glenn’s witch now,” I said as Cassie and Jenks joined me, and the three people spun, their faces pale. “Get it right.”

            The doors dramatically closed, and I slumped against the back of the elevator when Jenks hit the button for the third floor. Glenn’s witch . . . It would get me places, but it was still irksome.

            “Rachel is right,” Jenks said. “The FIB isn’t the swiftest brick in the stack when it comes to politics, but once they get past the them-and-us, they’re like real people.”

            Arms over her chest, Cassie huffed. “I can marshal the entire city to find Walter and David. I don’t need the FIB’s help.”

            Or a finding amulet, either, apparently. But an entire city of Weres out for blood was not what I wanted. “The FIB is quieter than the I.S. I don’t want to get the city’s Weres involved.”

            “You think you can stop them?”

            The doors slid apart, and I strode out into the open floor plan. It was pleasantly noisy with the sound of work, and no one looked up. Glenn’s office was at the far end. He didn’t have a window, but he did have four walls and a door.

            “See you there,” Jenks said as he darted high over the desks to find Glenn.

            Cassie, though, was still in the elevator, and I caught the door before it shut. “Cassie, we are here,” I said, and her angular jaw clenched. “I understand where you’re coming from. But if you cruise the city, find Walter, and then attack him, I guarantee you there will be five years of fighting lawsuits and paying off people who suffer collateral damage in the process. And that’s even saying you can recover David safely. I want the backing of a police force. The I.S. is bogged down in procedure, so the FIB is our best bet. Besides, who would you rather have searching for David? A bored I.S. agent, or a FIB detective who counts David as a friend?”

            It was the last, I think, that convinced her, and Cassie slipped past the doors as they began to shut again. “Thank you,” I said, feeling nervous and upset.

            “I don’t know what you think a human can do,” she said sourly, but I understood her doubt. The ignorance of the woman downstairs wasn’t unique, which made what Edden, and now Glenn, was trying to accomplish all the more precious.