Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “How is David?” Getty asked as she scrolled through Jenks’s phone, needing to use her entire hand to shift from picture to picture of grainy black-and-white gangster photos.

            I sat down and put my heels on the low, slate table. “He’ll be okay. Cassie, too.”

            Jenks dropped to the remote and stomped David Attenborough into silence. “Like anyone cares about Cassie,” he said, the image of Peter Pan with his hands at his waist.

            “Jenks,” I said with a sigh. “Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t go behind my back to save me. Better yet, tell me you haven’t gone behind my back to save me.”

            His wings drooped, and Getty smirked. “I don’t trust her,” Jenks said.

            “Me either.” Exhaling, I bent double to take my boots off. “But I understand her.” I eyed Getty’s paper and glue in curiosity. “Halloween decorations?”

            “Not exactly.” Jenks frowned, an odd blush to his dust. “She’s, ah, making a costume out of craft paper and glue.”

            “At least I’m trying,” the dark pixy said with a sigh. “Someone thinks it’s silly.”

            She scowled at Jenks, and the pixy flushed. “It’s paper,” he said, gesturing.

            “It only needs to hold together for one night,” I offered as I kicked off my boots and sank into the couch. “What are you going as?”

            Getty fussed with the cutout of a lacy ballroom-like dress. “A snowflake,” she said, sounding unhappy. “Jenks wants to be a forties gangster, but he won’t let me fit it to him. Come and stand here,” she said as she got to her feet and took a measuring tape from a fold of her dress. “Let me measure your shoulders at least.”

            “I need to check on Bis,” Jenks said sullenly as he took to the air.

            “It’s only a paper costume!” Getty yelled as he darted out. “It’s not a real suit!” Angry, the fiery pixy threw her tape measure after him. “You are impossible, you gutless slug!”

            The tiny clink of her tape hitting the floor seemed loud, and I winced as she flew to get it, a dark dust spilling from her. “Um, it’s not you,” I said, and she landed on the coffee table beside my socked feet and slumped into a depressed lump. She’d been working incessantly at the loom Jenks had rigged up for her, and her torn tights and patchwork dress had slowly been replaced with a black dress and stockings that glinted in the light. It wasn’t Matalina’s impressive embroidery, but the fabric was sturdy and strong and, perhaps more important, warm.

            “Yes, it is,” she said, sniffing through the tears. “I thought if he accepted a paper suit for Halloween that he might let me make him something real.” She played with the hem of her dress. “Maybe it’s not appropriate for me to make him clothes. It’s not as if we’re married.”

            But they weren’t simply friends, either, and I scooted to the edge of the couch, wishing I could give her a hug. “I think you making him a costume is more than appropriate.” A small movement at the archway to the hall caught my attention. It was Jenks, his young face holding a torn expression.

            “I was going to use it as a pattern,” Getty admitted. “Make him something splendid. I owe him for letting me stay rent-free. I’d be doing security no matter where I was.”

            I shot Jenks a dark look to get in here. “I think it’s a great idea. You’re both seeing to the security of this place, like partners. Partners do stuff for each other all the time.” I hesitated. “Don’t they, Jenks.”

            The pixy started, then flew in, pointedly avoiding Getty. “Bis is fine,” he said as he landed atop the lampshade and gently moved his wings as if warming them up. I doubted he had ever left the church. “Did Al have the invocation phrase for that ring?”

            “Ah, yeah. About that . . .” I took the ring from my pocket and set it on the table next to the small bowl full of Getty’s scraps. “Apparently it holds both the curse and cure. The mage said he can’t turn it back, so it’s stuck in cure mode. If I can find the phrase, I can uncurse Cassie’s people.”

            Jenks dropped to poke at the ring with his sword. “I didn’t think you could do that.”