The Witch with No Name

“Sure, thanks.” Pulling his phone out, he looked at the screen and dropped it back again. “I need something to wake me up,” he said, then yawned. “Sorry.”

My hand found his fingers, and towing him almost, I headed for the back of the church and the scent of brewing coffee. The sound of the shower from my bathroom was obvious, and I winced, thinking I must stink with burnt amber and vampire fear.

Jenks, Bis, and Buddy blew into the hallway from the back living room, and I jerked into a hunched duck. “No!” Jenks said, his dust an irate red. “Someone tell Bis he can’t have a dog!”

“We already have a cat,” I said, and Bis’s wings drooped as he hung upside down in the doorway to the kitchen. Buddy stood under him, tail waving and neck craned. “They won’t get along.”

“I’ll take care of him,” the little gargoyle pleaded, and Jenks made a harrumph, fists on his hips. “I’m fifty years old and I’ve never had a pet,” Bis complained.

Shaking my head, I ducked under him and went into the kitchen. “He’s awake in the day, and you’re not.” Ivy smiled at me from her usual chair before her computer. She liked normal, and we’d had precious little of it since most of Jenks’s kids had left.

“He’s up now! I can train him in the dark. He already knows how to use the cat door.”

A soft smile curved the corners of Trent’s lips up as he crouched to fondle the dog’s ears. “I’ve never had a pet either, Bis. Inside pet, I mean.”

“See?” Jenks crowed. “Even Trent knows it’s not a good idea.”

Trent eyed the pixy, his expression making it obvious that hadn’t been what he was saying. Bis did a front flip from the top of the doorway to land right on Trent’s shoulder, startling both him and the dog. “We can’t take him to the pound.”

Why am I the boss all of a sudden? I went for the coffee, hoping it’d all just go away, but Jenks’s wings rose in pitch, making my teeth hurt. “Trent can take him,” Jenks said suddenly.

“Ah, no.” Trent rose, his hands up in protest. “I can’t take care of a dog.”

Bis lightened to his usual pebbly gray, and Jenks bobbed up and down like a yo-yo. Even Buddy seemed to like it as he waved his tail, responding to Jenks’s excitement. “Tink’s titties, you can so. You got a pack of them. What’s one more?”

Again Trent’s phone hummed, and I held out his coffee to him as he frowned. “He’s a mutt, not a hound. He needs more attention than I can give him.”

All true, but I’d go along with it just to get the dog out of my church.

Trent set his coffee on the table so he could look at his phone, and Jenks dropped down, sparkles floating on the black brew. “Ellasbeth will hate him,” he enthused. “Come on. The girls will love him.”

I leaned to see it was Ellasbeth. “She’s just going to keep calling.”

Trent sighed. “Do you mind?” he said, face twisted up unhappily, and when I shrugged, he answered the call. “Ellasbeth. Yes. Just finished. I’m getting a coffee while I wait for a cab.” He hesitated. “Eden Park. We drove Rachel’s car back. Are the girls okay?”

I took my coffee to my usual chair. Jenks, though, hot on a chance to get Buddy out of our church, remained by Trent. “You can take him for walks,” the pixy prompted. “And he pees on your plants to mark your territory for you. What more could you want from a best friend?”

“It sounds like you’ve done your research,” Trent said. “Will you excuse me?” Turning away, Trent headed out of the kitchen and to the back living room. “Ellasbeth? Yes, I’m here. Can I talk to Quen?”

Buddy, Bis, and Jenks trailed after him, and I smiled at Ivy in the new peace. She rolled her eyes and I pushed my untasted coffee to her. “Thanks,” she said, her long, pale hands slipping around the porcelain. “Just as long as the dog doesn’t end up here,” she added, and I nodded, getting up to pour myself a new cup.

Hesitating, I took only half a cup, leaving the rest for Nina. Warm cup cradled in my hands, I leaned against the counter. “So . . . how does it feel?”

Ivy’s eyes flicked to mine and held. “To be free of all of them? I don’t know.” Her focus eased and she smiled faintly. “I’ve never been alone like this. Scary, maybe?”

Scary? I set my coffee down and crossed the kitchen in three strides. Ivy looked up, startled, and then I dropped down right there so I could give her a hug. “You’re not alone,” I whispered, my arms around her and breathing her in. Slowly her hand touched my back, hesitant and light. The memory of her teeth sliding cleanly into me rose and fell, a flash and then nothing.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, and I let go of her. “I’m scared,” she said, eyes beginning to swim as she looked at the ceiling. “I’m scared, even as I’ve got this wonderful thing happening.” Her eyes fell to mine. “I’ve always been untouchable, protected by someone so powerful he alone can abuse me and call it love. For the first time I’m my own person. What if something happens?”

I gave her a squeeze, smiling. “No one is going to touch you with me around.”