That made him pause, his expression taking on a hint of respect. Then he shook his head and his expression became hard. "Demon practitioners have a life expectancy of months, Ms. Morgan. I suggest you change your profession. Before your state-of-aliveness does it for you."
Dr. Williams took a step down, and I shot after him, "I don't deal in demons. She showed up on her own."
"That's my point." His feet were on the sidewalk, and he stopped and turned. "I'm very sorry, Ms. Tamwood, Jenks..." His gaze lifted to me. "... Ms. Morgan, but this is outside my current abilities. If the ground hadn't been cursed, there would be no problem, but as it is... ?" Shaking his head again, he headed for his van.
I shifted my garment bags to my other arm. "What if we got the ground cleaned?"
He stopped at the back of his van to open it and set his toolbox in it. He slammed it shut, his purple ribbon still in his grip. "It would be cheaper to move the bodies out of the cemetery and build a new church on hallowed ground." He hesitated, his attention flitting to the copper sign above the church door, proudly stating VAMPIRIC CHARMS. "I'm sorry. But you should count yourself lucky you even survived."
Shoes scuffing the pavement, he disappeared around the side of the van. The sound of his driver's-side door shutting seemed loud in the quiet street, drawing attention to the tinkling of an ice cream truck. As his van drove away, Ivy sat on the second step down. Saying nothing, I sat beside her, draping the bags over my knees. After a moment of hesitation, Jenks landed on my shoulder. Together we watched the ice cream truck trundle closer, its merry tune sounding especially irritating.
In an eyeball-hurting, shrill cloud, Jenks's kids flocked over to it, diving in and out of the man's windows until he stopped. He had been coming down here every day since the first of July to sell a two-dollar snow cone to a family of pixies.
Jenks's wings shifted my hair in the breeze as he lifted off. "Hey, Ivy," he said confidently, "can you float me a couple of bucks? "
It was an old pattern by now, and, shoulders hunched, she got to her feet. Grumbling under her breath, she slipped into the church for her purse.
I knew I should be worried about the church and sleeping on blasphemed ground, but I was ticked about working for Trent for no reason-seeing as we couldn't resanctify the church. And on my birthday, too.
While Jenks yelled at his kids to decide on a flavor and get it over with, I dug my phone out of my bag and hit the speed dial. I had to call Kisten.