Jenks snickered. “Yeah, Rache. Why bother? I mean, this could be good. Ivy could invite her mom over for a housewarming. We’ve been here a year, and the woman is dying to come over. Well, at least she would be if she were still alive.”
Worried, I looked up from the phone book.
Alarm sifted over Ivy. For a moment it was so quiet I could hear the clock above the sink, and then Ivy jerked, her speed edging into that eerie vamp quickness she took pains to hide.
“Give me the phone,” she said, snatching it.
You think?” I snapped, jumping when Newt slammed a side kick into the barrier, her robes swirling dramatically. Great, she knew martial arts on top of everything else. Why not? She’d obviously been around a while.
Kim Harrison(Jenks) “Tink’s a Disney whore,
Kim HarrisonI didn’t kill Francis,” I said. “He managed that all by himself. And Lee was dragged off by a demon he summoned. Nick went over a bridge.”
Mrs. Sarong’s smile widened, and she patted my hand again. “Very well done on the last one,” she said, glancing at her daughter. “Leaving an old boyfriend to clutter future relationships is investing in trouble.
Good Lord, I thought, squinting at the bright glare of a late-July morning. No wonder I slept through this. It was noisy with shrieking birds, and already hot.
Kim HarrisonYou pompous little bitch!” the infuriated Were shouted, red-faced and with his thugs backing him. “What are you doing here?”
Mrs. Sarong pushed past the men who had put themselves in front of her. “Arranging your removal,” she said, her voice sharp and her eyes glaring. Removal? As if he were an overgrown tree clogging the sewer line?
The short businessman seemed to choke on his own breath, becoming choleric. Mouth gaping to look like one of his prize fish, he struggled to respond. “Like hell you are!” he finally managed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to her about!”
From my shoulder came a small, “Holy crap, Rache. How did you become Cincy’s assassin of choice?
Her smile turned wicked. “And I’m not a silly girl to be blinded by a tidy posterior and expansive landholdings.”
Tidy posterior and expansive landholdings? Was that the Dark Ages equivalent of a tight ass and a lot of money?
We all watched Al open the door. Turning, he waved to us, then passed the threshold. The door shut behind him. I waited for something to happen.
Nothing did.
“This isn’t good,” Quen said.
I choked back my burst of laughter, knowing it would come out sounding hysterical.
Do you have a sleeping bag?”
I stared at him. “No. I lost it in the great salt-dip of ’06.
I plucked at my salt-stained shirt and tried to find an air of nonchalance as I prepared to introduce His Most Holy Pain in the Ass to Miss Elf Princess.
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