Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            His voice low and casual, Pike lured Brad into playing it while one of the waitstaff took a break to eat with him. It was all very loving and gentle, with no anger or frustration on either side, and I wondered what it said when the most vicious of our species could also be the most caring. Course, they weren’t dead yet.

            Pike still wore his stilted smile as he wove through the tables to us. “Hi, Rachel. Glenn,” he said as he spun a chair around and gracefully sat where he could see us and his brother. “Ivy getting your drinks?”

            Glenn nodded, clearly reluctant to set his ketchup aside. “It’s busy.”

            Pike’s gaze traveled over the noisy room. “Yep, but it’s a good busy.” His expression shifted. “David, eh?” he said, his voice low.

            “Soon as Glenn verifies Walter is on-site, Cassie is joining us and we are going out and getting him.” I hesitated, eyebrows rising. “You want to come?”

            Watching the full room, Pike leaned his chair back on two legs. “Me and Brad both,” he said, surprising me. “He needs to blow off some aggression.”

            “Brad?” I questioned, gaze flicking to the absent-minded man now focused on his game with the intensity of a sixth grader. “Are you sure?”

            Pike let his chair return to four legs. “You’d be doing me a favor, actually. He’s good in a fight. I’ll make sure he knows friend from foe.”

            “Thank you. He’s more than welcome,” Glenn said, then started when Ivy was suddenly at his shoulder.

            “One iced tea and a tomato smoothie,” she said as she set down the drinks, then handed Glenn a fancy cloth bag for the ketchups. “So where is David?” she asked as Glenn began fitting the bottles in the narrow sleeves.

            I took a sip of my iced tea as Ivy sat with her own glass of fizzing pop and ice. “We’re checking out a chop shop where the LoJacks on the two cabs Walter stole were disconnected.”

            Pike frowned. “The one on Vine?”

            “That’s the one.” Glenn’s ketchup was now all safely ensconced, and after setting the bag square on the table as a centerpiece, he took a sip of his “tomato smoothie,” his pleasure obvious. “Martie will give me a call if Rachel’s amulet pings,” he added. “I doubt Walter is foolish enough to leave a thread that large to pull, but it’s a start.” Sighing, he took another long draft of his drink. “My compliments to the mixologist.”

            “Thank you.” Ivy leaned away, but her fingers were drumming the table, a sure sign she was thinking. “Maybe I missed something. Why isn’t the I.S. running vanguard on this?”

            Uneasy, I pushed the ice around in my drink. “Because it takes forever to get a court order for a finding amulet, and when Glenn hit gold on the surveillance cameras, we moved.”

            “That’s a good strategy.” Pike leaned his chair back on two legs again to check on his brother, then rocked forward. “David is a big part of your subrosa security structure. I’m not keen on going to the I.S. to recover him. Besides, Walter won’t kill him outright. They’ll try to pull the focus from him first, and if that doesn’t work, then kill him.”

            That wasn’t helping, and I gave him a sour look.

            Ivy stood in a sudden movement. Three seconds later, a chime rang from the kitchen. “That’s your pizza,” she said, excusing herself. Behind her, she left an uncomfortable silence. Ivy had seen what Walter was capable of. That that butcher might be carving into David this very instant did not sit well with either of us.

            “How’s Brad?” I asked, frustrated, and Pike’s brow furrowed. He smoothed it nearly as fast, finding a half smile that I knew hid worry.

            “Good days, bad days,” he said. “Have you found an Atlantean mirror?”

            “Not yet. I’m still trying alternatives.” Guilt hunched my shoulders, and I focused on the ketchup bag. It was decorated with an old-timey picture of tomatoes on the vine, and I wondered what Glenn’s neighbors would think, gasping in horror as they peeked through their blinds when he brought it in from the car. “Vivian wants to see the original curse. If she doesn’t put me in Alcatraz, she might be able to help me find a substitute for it.”

            My tone had been sourly sarcastic, but Pike was too busy watching his brother to catch it. The forgetful man was flirting with a friendly woman at the nearby table, and the waitstaff was having mixed success at diverting him.