"I blew it up," I said, taking in his fading bruises and bare scalp, newly shaved to even out the mess the hospital had left. I didn't think I'd ever seen him in jeans before, and a dark sweater showed from underneath a leather coat. "You look better," I said as he eyed my robe.
"Uh, it's three in the afternoon," he said, suddenly unsure.
"It sure is." I gave him a hug, truly glad to see him. "How are those locator amulets I gave your dad working? You want some coffee? Pancakes? I owe you for helping me get out of the hospital. Thanks for that." I couldn't stop smiling. I'd thought he was going to die or be hospitalized for months, and now he was standing in my kitchen with a bag of groceries and only the faintest hint of stress showing in his face.
Glenn's gaze slid to the coffeepot, then back to the empty spot. "Uh, amulets are working, I guess, you're welcome for the help breaking out, and no thanks on the coffee. I can't stay. The department heard what happened last night with you and Ivy, and the guys wanted me to bring you both something. You're not invincible, you know. There's no big S on your chest." He hesitated, brow furrowing as he leaned close enough that I could smell his aftershave. "How's Ivy? I heard she was hit hard."
"She bounced right back," I said dryly, peeking into the bag with the pixies to find...Tomatoes? He bought tomatoes with the FIB's gift fund? "Ah, she's getting dressed," I added, surprised. Where did Glenn get tomatoes?
"Damn, vampires heal fast," he said, his dark eyes interested as he leaned to see into the bag while I poked around. "It took me five days. No wonder Denon wants to be one."
"Yeah, well, we all make mistakes." Three of Jenks's kids rose up with a cherry tomato, arguing over who got the seeds. "Glenn, did you get all this by yourself?"
He grinned, rubbing a hand behind his neck. "Yeah. Too much?"
"Not if you're going to have a family reunion," I said, smiling so he'd know I was messing with him. "Damn, Mr. Man! I'm proud of you! You actually went in a store and everything?"
He came close to the bag, leaning to look in, his eagerness charming on a big black man. "You should have seen the looks I got," he said as he reached in and the bag crackled. "Did you know there is more than one kind of tomato? This one is a beefsteak." A huge tomato the size of my two fists hit the counter. "It's good for slicing up on sandwiches. And the lady at the store said you can quarter them and grill them."
"No kidding," I said, hiding a grin as his dark fingers pulled out a bag of plum tomatoes.
"These long ones are Romas," he said as he set them down. "You cut these up and put them in salads, on pizza, and in sauces. And the little ones here are cherry tomatoes. You can put them in salads or eat them like candy."
I had never eaten a tomato "like candy," but I ate one now, the acidic fruit not mixing at all well with the coffee. "Mmmm, good," I said, and Jenks laughed, hovering at the lintel with the tomato his kids had swiped. Behind him, one of his daughters waited, wringing her hands.
"I've got three that were vine ripened," Glenn said, showing me the top of his bruised and cut head as he looked for them. "Those babies were expensive, but they're really red."
"Don't you want some of these for yourself?" I asked, and he looked up, grinning. The smile went all the way to his eyes, and it felt good to see it on him.
"I've got another bag in the car. You're going to have to find someone else to blackmail into giving you law enforcement tools."
"So you don't mind if I tell your dad, then?" I teased, and his smile vanished.
Jenks came in, easily handling the weight of the cherry tomato. "Here, Glenn. My kids are sorry. They won't do it again."
I caught the fruit as he dropped it. "They can keep it," I said, and five pixy bucks and Jenks's daughter swooped in, arguing in high-pitched voices as they snatched it from my palm.
"Hey!" Jenks shouted, following them out.
"Are you sure you don't want some coffee?" I said as I heard Ivy's door creak open. "I think the rani of recycling has a foam cup around here. You can take it with you."
Glenn took his fingers out of the bag of tomatoes, his hands going behind him in sort of a parade rest, his back to the door. "No, I have to go. But I want your opinion on last night."
He was starting to look like a cop. Frowning, I thought about Ivy and my frantic drive to the bridge. "It sucked. Why?"
"Not your personal night," Glenn said dryly. "Don't you ever look at a paper?"
Interested, I pushed off from the counter and found this morning's paper still in its little plastic bag on the table. Under it was the picture of Jenks and me standing before the Mackinaw Bridge, rescued from yesterday's burning fridge. Carefully moving the photo, I opened up the paper. "Where am I looking?" I asked, standing hunched over it.
"The front page," he said wryly.
Oh goodie. Wincing, I read, THREE IN HOSPITAL. EARLY MORNING BLACK MAGIC TO BLAME. There was a picture of ambulances in the dark, the scene lit by a car on fire. People were milling around in front of a business. From my shoulder, Jenks whistled, back from his kids.
"Uh, I was home all night," I said, thinking I was going to get blamed for this somehow. Whatever it was. "I talked to your dad about midnight. He can vouch for me." I leaned forward, recognizing the roof's outline. Aston's roller rink? "You're not working this, are you?" I asked, worried now. "Glenn, you might feel better, but your aura is still thin."
"I appreciate your concern," he said, his attention moving from the paper to the open box of cold pizza. "Hey, uh, can I have a slice of that? I'm starving."
"Sure." I squinted at the black-and-white shot as Glenn crossed the kitchen and wrangled a slice from the pizza. "Jenks, did you know about this?"
Jenks shook his head and landed on the paper, hands on his hips and his attention directed downward as he read.
"From what we've gotten from the I.S.," Glenn said around a bite of pizza, "it seems Ms. Walker ran into Ms. Harbor. Three people in intensive care with damaged auras."
"That's terrible," I said, glad I wasn't being blamed for it. "Do you need me to come down and look at the crime scene?" I asked, brightening. "It's Aston's roller rink, isn't it?"
Glenn laughed, turning it into a choke, and I kept my eyes on him-not on Ivy, suddenly standing in the doorway. She was dressed in jeans and a black sweater, looking nice, her hair brushed and wearing a little bit of makeup. "No, but thanks," he said, oblivious to Ivy.
Affronted, I sat in my chair and said, "You didn't have to laugh."
Jenks was in the air with the paper, struggling to turn it over and get to the rest of the article. "Yes, he did. You need to take a class on crime scene etiquette, Rache."
Ivy ghosted up behind Glenn as he started to take another bite, her feet soundless. "Thanks for the tomatoes, Glenn," she whispered in his ear, and the man jumped.
"Sweet mother of Jesus!" he exclaimed, spinning, his hand smacking his hip where his pistol would have been. The slice of pizza went airborne, and he scrambled to catch it. "Damn, woman," he complained as it hit the floor. "Where did you come from?"
Ivy smiled with her lips closed, but I was laughing. "My mother always said I came from heaven," she said, then delicately stepped over the pizza to reach the coffeemaker. Motions sultry, she refilled her cup and turned, standing in front of the cupboard door to the trash.
Glenn was holding the slice of pizza cradled in his big hand like it was a favorite pet-dead but still beloved. Ivy slid sideways and opened the cupboard door, and the man sighed as he threw it away. Amused, I extended the pizza box, and he brightened, taking another slice.
"So what's up?" Ivy asked as she sipped her coffee, eyeing him over the rim as if she wanted to eat him up like pie.
"Yeah, why are you here, Glenn, if you don't want me to check out that crime scene?" I asked, putting my feet up on the adjacent chair and adjusting my robe to cover my legs.
"Can't a guy bring over a get-well tomato without getting the third degree?" he said with a false innocence.
"Six freaking pounds of get-well tomatoes," Jenks muttered, and Ivy set her cup down, turning to the sink to fill a small pan to wash the red fruit. She wanted to stay and needed something to do.
"It better not be about working tonight," I said, looking askance at the paper. "I already told your dad I was not working his lame-ass party."
"No way!" Jenks darted from the paper to hover an inch before Glenn's nose. "There is no way I'm letting Rachel work with her aura that crappy. You want her facedown again? She may look all tough and shit, but her aura peels off like a banana skin."
I hadn't known that, and I wondered if it was a species thing or just me.
"Which is exactly why I'm not doing what my dad sent me to do, asking you to work that party," Glenn said as he stood unperturbed in our kitchen and mowed down his pizza crust. Wings clattering, Jenks backed down, and Glenn glanced at me. "If he calls, swear a lot and tell him I gave you a hard time, will you? He has no idea what it's like to have a compromised aura. I'm glad you're both staying in tonight."
I didn't shift my eyes from him, but it was hard not to look at Ivy, who had turned with that beefsteak swathed in a towel, a smile quirking her lips. "Yeah, a nice and quiet night," I said, hoping he didn't see my spell books. Fingers slow, I folded the paper up and set it deliberately on top of them.
Ivy turned her back on us, but I think she was still smiling as she continued washing the tomatoes, setting them to dry one by one.
"Well, I gotta go," Glenn said, dusting his hands and looking at the leftover pizza. "Thanks, ladies. Don't let my dad get to you. He really wants to nail this woman and doesn't realize what he's asking of you."
"No problem." Now I felt guilty, and I stood up, handing him the pizza box. His eyes lit up as he took it, but I wished he'd get out of here. I had to prep for tonight. Sure, I had agreed not to circle Al, but there were other ways to catch a demon, and I wondered if turning him into a mouse would work. I knew I could do that one. "Have a great New Year's, Glenn."
The FIB detective smiled. "You, too." He picked up one of the clean tomatoes and tucked it in his pocket. Winking, he said, "Don't tell my dad about the tomatoes, okay?"
"I'll take it to my grave." Which might be as soon as tonight...
Ivy turned from folding up the grocery bag and sliding it under the sink. "Glenn, are you headed in to work?" she asked, and he hesitated.
"Ye-e-es," he hedged. "You want a ride?"
"I have a few words of wisdom for Edden about that little bitch of a banshee," she said, grimacing, then added, looking at me, "Unless you need me to stick around?"
Jenks's wings clattered in agitation, and mystified, I glanced at my spell books. "I'm just going to play with my junior cook books," I said, and then worried that guilt might make her try to face Mia alone, I added, "You'll be back before the ball drops, right?"
The rim of brown around her eyes shrank slightly. "You know it. I'll get my coat," she said, and turning, she strode out of the kitchen, moving with that eerie grace.
From the paper, Jenks muttered, "Need her to stick around? Who does she think she is?"
"I heard that!" Ivy shouted from the sanctuary, and there was a squeal of pixies.
Glenn was moving to the door. "Take care of yourself, Rachel," he said, and I angled for a hug, my bad mood squeezed out by the big man who now smelled like pizza.