Even I could hear Sampson, and I winced at his sudden yelp of pain. The sound of heavy footsteps in the stairwell was clear, and Betty's voice was an irritating, panicked chatter.
"David, if I ever get like that, just slap me," I said, leaning against the table and crossing my arms with my eyes on the door. I didn't know who was going to come through, but I wanted to look confident when they did. The Were chuckled and joined me, then blinked and winced when the lights went on and the lock turned with an oiled slickness. The heavy door opened, and Jenks came in an instant before a slight man in a comfortable pair of slacks and a casual sweater. Behind him was Betty in full hysterics.
"Sorry, Rache," Jenks said as he lit on my earring. "I would have been here sooner, but when I saw Tom Thumb-up-his-ass in the backyard, I stuck with him."
Tom? As in I'm-going-to-arrest-you-for-summoning-demons-in-a-charm-shop Tom? Arms going to my sides, I looked closer. Relaxing, I started to laugh. "Oh, my God. You?" I said, too relieved to be angry. This I could handle. If I could jail city powers, evade master vampires, and outsmart demons, then getting an idiot of an I.S. agent to stop freeing demons to kill me was going to be easy. Finally...something was going my way for a change.
Tom stopped at the base of the stairs, ignoring Betty as he glanced from me to David to assess how big a threat the Were was. David calmly clasped his hands before him and waited. Me, I stepped forward as belligerently and obnoxiously as I could.
"Wow," I said sarcastically. "I'm impressed. Congratulations. You had me fooled. You didn't even make my who-wants-to-off-Rachel list. Are you going to kill us now, or sic Al on us when the sun goes down?"
Tom pried Betty's grip off his arm. The woman wouldn't shut up, and it was getting on my nerves. "You don't know when to stop, do you?" he said, clueless as ever. The guy was too young to pull off the amount of domination he was trying for. Trent could do it, but he had the right clothes, not to mention the right demeanor. Slacks and a cardigan sort of ruined it.
"Not when you make a habit of dismissing demons so they can walk Cincy freely," I said. "And don't think you're going to saddle me with the bill for that charm shop. You summoned him. You're paying for it."
Tom laughed and came farther in, glancing at the wall before taking an aggressive stance between us and the stairs. I felt him tap a line, and I swung my purse around and brought out my splat gun to casually check the hopper. David shifted his weight and loosened his tie. From the top of the stairway, Sampson's barks grew frenzied.
"Mr. Bansen," Betty said, eyes on the cherry-red gun as she moaned, "I didn't know about the demon investigation. It doesn't say that in the policy!"
"Go upstairs," Tom growled, shoving her hand off him again. "It's not in the policy because she was lying."
David sighed, and I beamed.
"But they know it was a demon!" she wailed.
Tom spun, shouting, "I told you not to put in a claim, you stupid cow. Go upstairs and take that ridiculous costume off. You look like my mother!"
The poor woman fled, her red heels clacking so fast up the stairs I almost felt sorry for her. Sampson went with her, and the tension in the basement eased.
"Having trouble with your neophytes?" I said when an upstairs door slammed. "Jeez, Tom, no wonder you wanted me in your club. That's pathetic."
Tom's lips twisted. Clearly feeling a sting, he gave his head a shake to get the hair from his eyes. "A splat gun? Real witches don't need guns."
"Real witches use all their available resources." David shifted in agitation, and before he could say anything, I said, "Look. I know you've been summoning Al and letting him go to kill me."
"Moi?" he said coyly.
That was just stupid. "Knock it off," I said, taking a step toward him. "You'll live longer."
Tom watched Jenks hovering beside me and backed up. "I know what I'm doing," he said loftily. "He has yet to break my control."
"Really." I sent my gaze to the wall. "What was that from?"
The witch went slightly green, and the scent of bleach seemed to grow stronger. "Someone got careless," he said, not dropping his eyes.
"And you got a promotion?" I guessed. Pity came from nowhere. God! It was right in front of him, and he still didn't get it. "Tom, you are so stupid."
"I'm a visionary," he countered.
"You're a walking corpse. Al is playing with you. You think your little circle is going to keep you safe?" I said, pointing at the stage. "I've circled him every time you sent him to me. It doesn't matter what you told him to do after I catch him. He's mine at that point. And what if I send him back to you instead of the ever-after? Huh? How about that? Think you'd enjoy trying to catch him in this little hidey-hole of a pit you're summoning him into? Or maybe he'll find you in the shower, or asleep?"
The witch blanched. Behind him, David padded with all the stealth of an alpha wolf to the stairs to protect my escape. Jenks was with him, making me feel doubly secure.
"Didn't think about that, didja," I said to knock the precariousness of his situation home. I was a good girl, but I didn't have to be. I'd sent Al back to his summoner before. "You little pissant," I said bitterly, not liking that Tom was probably going to make me do it again. "You don't want to play this game with me. Really, you don't."
Tom drew himself up and David tensed. I couldn't let him think he had the upper hand, and after a look at David to tell him I wasn't close to being stupid, I got in Tom's face.
"Stop summoning him," I said, tapping a line so my hair would float ominously. "If Al shows up to bother me, I'm sending him back, and you'll be cleaning up more than one person hitting a cement wall. Got it?"
Shaking inside, I turned to leave, glad David had the stairs. "And tell Betty not to expect a check for the damage either. Her insurance doesn't cover demons."
Sampson was barking from somewhere as I stomped up the stairs, Jenks a quiet hum before me and David's steps soft behind. I felt like the cream filling in a cookie, my brain full of fluff and nonsense. What in hell was I doing telling Tom I'd send Al back at him? Tom wouldn't have a chance. He'd be dead in thirty seconds.
Why am I giving him an ounce of thought? He's sending Al to kill me.
I got halfway through the sterile house done in pastels and sharp corners before Sampson was at my heels, panting for attention. "Did she buy you because you matched the couch?" I said bitterly, and the little dog yapped, his tail putting out enough motion to power Cincy for a year. Struck by a sudden thought, I hesitated at the front door to look at my high-magic amulet. It was green; he was just a dog.
"What a nasty little rat chaser," Jenks said from the security of my shoulder as I wiggled my foot to keep him inside when David opened the door.
"He's a saint in fur for putting up with that woman," I said, wanting to pick him up and take him home. I didn't even like dogs. Giving him a last look, I stifled my desire to pat him on the head and just shut the door.
David was eyeing me questioningly, and ignoring it, I schlumped down the stairs and to the car. I wanted to get out of here before Tom found his balls and started after me. In a bad mood, I got in David's car, fastened my belt, and stared out the front window, waiting.
Both David and Jenks were unusually silent, hesitant almost, as they got in.
"What!" I snapped, and Jenks let a little dust slip from him to color David's shoulder.
David shrugged, and after glancing at Jenks he said, "You okay?"
I looked at the house and saw Sampson sitting at the long window, tail still going. "No."
The Were took a breath as he started the car up and put it into drive. "I hope he doesn't call your bluff."
Silently I stared at the Halloween decorations so I wouldn't have to think.
"Uh, it was a bluff, right?" David prompted, and when Jenks's wings hummed nervously, I put on a fake smile.
"Duh, yeah, it was a bluff," I said, and Jenks's wings took on a more normal translucence. But even as I busied myself with changing David's radio from country to something a little more radical, a part of me worried it might not be.
But at least it hadn't been Nick.