Not noticing, Erica sprang into a flurry of motion to move a bench closer to the fire. The conversation grew excited, and Keasley and Ceri drifted over when Takata finally pulled out the guitar he brought with him but had been ignoring. He settled himself, long fingers moving slowly from the cold as he strummed. It was nice. Really nice. The only thing missing was Jenks's wiseass remarks and a sprinkling of pixy dust.
I sighed, and Kisten's lips brushed my ear. "You'll get him back," he breathed.
Surprised he knew where my thoughts were, I said, "Are you sure?"
I felt him nod. "Come springtime and he can get out again, he'll be back. He thinks too much of you to not listen once his pride starts to heal. But I know all about big egos, Rachel. You're going to have to grovel."
"I can do that," I said in a small voice.
"He thinks it's his fault," Kisten continued.
"I'll convince him otherwise."
His breath was a puff behind my ear. "That's my girl."
I smiled at the stirring of feelings he was instilling in me. My gaze went to the shadow of Ivy in the kitchen, then back to the impromptu music. One down. Two more to go. And they were likely going to be the hardest ones. It wasn't as if I could ask Ceri or Keasley. There was a spot on that form for a Social Security number. Ceri didn't have one, and I knew without asking Keasley wouldn't want to put his down. I had a suspicion by the lack of government checks that he was playing dead.
"Could you excuse me?" I murmured as Ivy's shadow behind the glass was eclipsed by a swirl of mist from the hot water she was running into the sink. Kisten's hold loosened. Takata's blue eyes met mine before I turned away, an unknown emotion in them.
I paused to put the cedar wreath back on its hook before I went in. The warmth of the church hit me, and I took my hat off and tossed it to the black hearth. I entered the kitchen to find Ivy leaning against the counter, her head down and her hands gripping her elbows.
"Hi," I said, hesitating in the threshold.
"Let me see the contract," she said, extending her hand and her head coming up.
My lips parted. "How did…" I stammered.
A faint, sour smile crossed her and was gone. "Sound carries well over flame."
Embarrassed, I pulled it out of my pocket, feeling it both cold from the night and warm from my body. She took it, her brow furrowed. Turning her back on me, she unfolded it. I fidgeted. "Um, I need three witnesses," I said. "I'd like you to be one of them."
"Why?"
She didn't turn around and her shoulders were tense. "David doesn't have a pack," I said. "It's harder to fire him if he does. He gets to keep his job working solo, and I can get my insurance through him. It's only two hundred a month, Ivy. He's not looking for anything more than that or he would have asked a Were woman."
"I know. My question is why do you want my signature?" Paper in hand, she turned, the empty look on her face making me uncomfortable. "Why is it important to you that I sign it?"
I opened my mouth, then shut it. My thoughts touched on what Newt had said. Home hadn't been a strong enough pull, but Ivy was. "Because you're my partner," I said, warming. "Because what I do affects you."
Ivy silently plucked a pen from her pencil cup and clicked it open. I suddenly felt awkward, realizing that David's little paper granted him something she wanted: a recognizable connection with me.
"I did a background check on him when you were in the hospital," she said. "He's not hooking up with you to help him out with a preexisting problem."
My eyebrows rose. I hadn't thought about that. "He said this was a no-strings-attached affair." I hesitated. "Ivy, I live with you," I said, trying to reassure her that our friendship didn't need a paper or signature to be real, and both our names were above the door. Both of them.
She was silent, her face empty of emotion, her brown eyes still. "You trust him?"
I nodded. I had to go with my gut feeling here.
The barest smile appeared on her. "Me too." Pushing a plate of cookies aside, she wrote her name on the first line in a careful but almost illegible signature.
"Thanks," I said, and she handed it back. My gaze went past her as the back door opened. Ivy looked up, and I recognized a softening in her gaze when Kisten's familiar footsteps thumped on the rug beside the door, knocking off the snow. He came into the kitchen, David on his heels.
"Are we signing the paper or not?" Kisten said, the tension in his voice telling me he was ready to argue with Ivy if she was balking.
Ivy clicked her pen open and shut so fast that it hummed. "I already did. Your turn."
He squared his shoulders, grinning as he took the pen when she extended it, adding his masculine signature under hers. His Social Security number was next, and he handed the pen to David.
David edged between them, looking small beside their tall grace. I could see his relief as he wrote his full name. My pulse increased and I took the pen, pulling the paper closer.
"So," Kisten said when I signed it. "Who are you going to ask to be the third witness?"
"Jenks," Ivy and I said together, and I looked up. Our eyes met and I clicked the pen closed.
"Will you ask him for me?" I said to David.
The Were picked up the paper, carefully folding it and tucking it away in an inner coat pocket. "You don't want to ask someone else? He might not."
I glanced at Ivy and straightened, tucking a curl of hair behind my ear. "He's a member of this firm," I said. "If he wants to spend the winter sulking in a Were's basement, that's fine with me, but he had better get his little pixy butt back here when the weather breaks or I'm going to be royally pissed." I took a deep breath, adding, "And maybe this will convince him he's a valued member of the team and that I'm sorry."
Kisten took a shuffling step back.
"I'll ask him," David said.
The back door opened and Erica tumbled in, her cheeks red and her eyes snapping. "Hey! Come on! He's ready to play! God save you, he's warmed up and ready to play, and you're inside eating? Get your asses out here!"
Ivy's attention went from the snow she had tracked in to my eyes. David lurched into motion, pushing the flighty goth vamp out before him. Kisten followed, the noise of their conversation heady with the sound of companionship. Takata's music rose, and my eyes widened when Ceri's ethereal voice was set to a carol older than even she. She indeed sang in Latin. My eyebrows rose and I looked at Ivy.
Ivy zipped her coat up and got her mittens from the counter. "You really okay with this?" I asked her.
She nodded. "Asking Jenks to sign that paper might be the only way to hammer it into his thick skull that we need him."
I made a face and went before her as I tried to come up with a way to convey to Jenks how wrong I had been to not trust him. I had slipped Algaliarept's snare, managing to not only get rid of one of my demon marks but also break my familiar bond with Nick, too—not that it mattered now. I had gone out on a date with the city's most powerful bachelor and had breakfast with him. I had rescued a thousand-yearold elf, learned how to be my own familiar, and discovered I could throw a mean craps game. Not to mention I found you could have sex with a vampire and not get bitten. Why did I have the feeling that getting Jenks to talk to me was going to be harder than all that put together?
"We'll get him back," Ivy murmured behind me. "We will get him back."
Thumping down the snow-covered stairs and going into the music and star-filled night, I swore we would.