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"I'm surprised," I said as I got up to get the tiny, see-through ceramic teacups that Ceri preferred to my thick-walled mugs. They weren't traditional sake cups, but they looked better than shot glasses.

"That will work," Marshal said as I set them down, and he filled them halfway up before carefully tipping his cup over Jenks's tea bag caddy to fill it right to the top.

This isn't like Kisten, I thought, finding a hint of peace as I held my cup up in a toast. Jenks had never hung around when Kisten and I were together. And though Marshal was fun to look at, I was still too raw to be serious. Not having that will-he-won't-he stress to deal with was an unexpected pleasure.

"To new jobs," he said, and we all took a sip, me holding my breath so I wouldn't cough.

"Good stuff," I said, eyes watering and feeling the nasty stuff burn all the way down.

Marshal set his cup down with a careful slowness, the subtle easing of his posture telling me that just that little bit of alcohol had an effect on him. But hell, sake was potent stuff.

Jenks's wings sped up, and the soft slipping of dust ceased.

"Thanks for letting me come over," Marshal said as he took up his fork and arranged his dinner. "My hotel room is...empty. And I could use a little normalcy after today."

Smirking, Jenks fanned his wings, sending the scent of rice to me. "She fought off a demon with the help of Rynn Cormel. We ain't normal, Marsh-man."

It almost sounded like a warning, and Marshal's laughter stopped short when he saw my mood go pensive. "Rynn Cormel?" he said, as if trying to figure out if Jenks was kidding him. "The vampire, right?"

I leaned over my plate and took a bite. Good rice sticks together, but I wasn't going to use chopsticks if Marshal wasn't. "Yup," I said when it became obvious that he was waiting for an answer. "He took in Piscary's camarilla, which means he's my roommate's new master vamp, and he came over to find out what my intentions toward Ivy were."

Sort of the truth, but the entire truth was way too embarrassing.

"Oh."

It was an uncomfortable utterance, and I looked up to see his brown eyes holding an uneasy wariness - which made Jenks all the more pleased, apparently, if his wing speed was any indication. "It wasn't a big deal," I said, trying to downplay it. "He got in the way more than anything else."

That didn't help at all, and Marshal swallowed to look ill. I sat back, gripping my plate and reaching for my sake cup. "You want to move to sanctified ground? We can watch TV or something. We have cable out there now."

Marshal shook his head. "No. If you say the demon won't show up, I believe you."

A snicker came from Jenks, ticking me off. I took another swallow of sake, following it with the rice and meat. It didn't burn this time, and I thought as I chewed and swallowed. This stank. Marshal wanted to take me skating. What kind of friend makes a guy hide in a church because she's afraid of demons?

Lips pressed, I got up, feeling the men's eyes on me as I plucked my compact from my bag and one of Ivy's fine-line Sharpies from her cup. I had a stick of yew around here somewhere, and the sake was probably a good substitute for wine.

"Uh, Rache?" Jenks questioned.

"I'm tired of hiding in my church," I said, thinking I'd have to get my scrying mirror out to remember what the glyph looked like if I wanted to reproduce the spell to make a calling circle. "It's right before Halloween, for crying out loud."

"Rache..."

I wouldn't look up. "If you want to come with us and babysit, fine. Al isn't going to show. Besides, he wants me alive, not dead. And I want to go out."

Marshal's fork scraped as he set it down. "What are you doing?"

"Making something I probably shouldn't." Giving up on doing this from memory, I pulled my scrying mirror out from under the island counter and carefully set it down. I harbored a guilty thought that the thing was beautiful, its crystalline lines of the symbols etched into its surface showing a sharp diamond clarity against the wine-colored depths of the glass reflecting reality in deep shades of maroon. Something this evil shouldn't be beautiful. Ceri had helped me make this one after I broke the first over Minias's head. Damn it, why is she risking her soul like this again?

Marshal was silent as he looked at it. "That's a calling circle," he finally said. "I think. I've never seen one like that."

Jenks looked almost cocky when the dust slipping from him turned gold and he said, "That's because it goes through ley lines to summon demons."

I frowned, but the damage had been done. Marshal stiffened, carefully taking a bite of rice and vegetables as if it didn't bother him. Exasperated, I looked at the sake and decided I'd had enough. Of Jenks, not the sake. What is with him tonight?

"It doesn't summon demons, just lets me talk to them." And opens a channel they can travel through. "Marshal, I'm a white witch. Really." I looked at the pentagram and winced. "The thing is, I've got a demon bent on dragging me into the ever-after, and having a calling circle gives me the option to call someone to pick him up when he shows. He's supposed to be in jail. But everything will be fine tomorrow after I go out with David and beat some sense into whoever is calling Al and releasing him to get me."

It sounded lame even to me, and Marshal chewed his rice, his attention never leaving mine as he weighed his thoughts. His gaze flicked to the calling circle and then swung back to me. "You call it Al?" he asked mildly.

I took a breath, deciding to give him all the drama of my life at once. If he was going to leave because of it, I wanted to know now, not after I started liking the guy. "The smut on my aura I got from using a demon curse to save my ex-boyfriend," I said. Mostly. "And the two demon marks were accidents."

Aren't they all? I mocked in my thoughts, but Marshal had taken a sip of his drink and leaned back. "Rachel, you don't have to tell me all this," he said, and I raised a hand.

"Yes I do." Eyeing the sake, I slammed it, wanting a loose tongue for a few minutes. "There is no way I'm going to have a boyfriend anytime soon," I said as it burned, "so if you're looking for a fast hop in the sack, you can just walk out the door right now. Actually, you should get out now anyway."

"Uh..." Marshal stammered, and Jenks snickered as he drank the last of his sake.

"I have a risky job," I said defensively as I put my arm flat on the table, almost flipping my plate of rice. "I love it. It might make you a target." My jaw clenched. Kisten had died because he refused to kill me when Piscary asked. I was sure of it.

Jenks took flight, and I watched the sparkles as he landed on Marshal's shoulder and sighed. "She's such a drama queen," he muttered a little too loudly, ticking me off.

"Shut up, Jenks," I said carefully so I wouldn't slur. I wasn't drunk, but the alcohol helped. I turned to Marshal. "I got a demon mark when my ex-boyfriend bought a trip through the lines when Al tore my throat open. I have another on my foot because some jackass pulled me through to the ever-after to give me to Al and I had to buy a trip home from another demon who is absolutely nuts and might show up at any time if she remembers me."

"She?" Marshal said, sparse eyebrows high but accepting that.

"I also have a couple of unclaimed vampire scars that make me susceptible to vampire pheromones," I said, not caring what he thought. "If it wasn't for Ivy protecting me, I'd be dead or out of my mind by now because of it."

Jenks leaned toward Marshal's ear and whispered loud enough for me to hear, "I think she likes them, if you ask me."

"I'm trouble, Marshal," I said, ignoring Jenks. "If you were smart, you'd walk out of my church, get in your truck, and drive away. God! I don't even know why you're here."

Marshal pushed his plate away and crossed his arms over his chest. His muscles bunched under his shirt, and I forced my attention from him. I wasn't drunk, damn it, but my eyes warmed. "Are you done?" he asked.

"I suppose," I said, depressed.

"Jenks, do you mind if I talk to Rachel alone?" Marshal asked.

The pixy's expression darkened and he put his fists on his hips, but when he saw me glare at him, he sulkily flew to the door. Ten to one he was going to listen from the hall, but at least we had the illusion of privacy.

Seeing him gone, Marshal leaned across the table and took my hands in his. "Rachel, I met you on my boat, asking for my help to rescue your ex-boyfriend from a group of militant Weres. Don't you think I know you leave a trail of bread crumbs for trouble to follow?"

I brought my eyes up. "Yes, but - "

"My turn," he said, and I shut my mouth. "I'm not sitting in your kitchen because I'm new in town and looking for a curvy body in my bed. I'm here because I like you. I only talked to you for a few hours on my boat, but in that little time, I was seeing you as you. No pretenses, no games. You know how rare that is?" He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, and my gaze rose. "You never see a person like that on a date, not after a dozen dates. Sometimes, you can spend years with someone and never really know what they're like under the veneer we put on to make ourselves feel better. I liked what I saw when you were under pressure. The last thing I need is a steady girlfriend." He let go of my hand and slid to the back of his chair. "My last one was a nightmare, and I'd just as soon keep things casual. Like tonight. Minus the demon."

He smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back. I'd been around too many guys to take his words at face value, but he was stifling a shudder born from something in his memory. "I don't want you to get hurt," I mumbled, embarrassed now. The quickest way to get a man interested was to say you weren't.

Marshal sat taller. "I'll be okay," he said as he looked out the dark kitchen window and shrugged. "I'm not helpless. I've got a degree in low-level ley line manipulations. I ought to be able to manage a demon or two." He smiled. "Short-term anyway."

This wasn't going well. "I'm not...I can't..." I took a steadying breath. "I'm still hurting. You're wasting your time."

He looked at the window and the dark square it made. "I told you I'm not looking for a girlfriend. You women are all nuts, but I like the way you smell and you're fun to dance with."

A quiver rose and fell in my middle. "Then why are you here?"

Marshal's eyes came back to mine. "I don't like being alone, and you look like you need to be with someone...for a while."

Slowly my gaze dropped and then returned to his. Could I trust that? Seeing my compact, I picked it up, weighed it in my palm, then tossed it into my bag. Somehow I didn't feel like I needed to prove anything to him anymore, and the entire idea had been bad to begin with. God, no wonder I kept getting into trouble. So I couldn't go out? So what?

"You, ah, want to watch a movie?" I said, embarrassed for having bared my soul, though it had left me feeling refreshed.

Marshal made a soft noise and stretched where he sat, looking comfortable and content. "Sure. Mind if I bring my paper in for the classifieds? I'm still looking for an apartment."

"Sounds great," I said. "That sounds really great."


Tags: Kim Harrison The Hollows Fantasy