Ким Харрисон - For a Few Demons More

Not knowing what to make of that, I nodded and pushed Trent back into motion. He was indignant, apparently figuring out that I was going to give the vampire the focus. Hell, Piscary "insured" four-fifths of the city, and David's company picked up the rest. It wasn't hard to figure out I wanted to be added to the list. Seeing Trent's understanding, I smiled. Bastard .

"Trent!" Ellasbeth shrieked. "You walk out of this church and I'm gone. I'm on the plane and I'm home! I agreed to marry you, not this… this circus you call a life."

"I don't have much choice— dear ," he said over his shoulder. "Will you curb your hysterics and tend to our guests? This is a minor glitch."

"Minor glitch!" I was walking sideways, nearly missing it when she threw her bouquet at the holy guy, screaming. "Quen! Do something! That's what you're paid for!"

My eyebrows rose. I was almost to the door, and no one had tried to stop me. Shock was a wonderful tool when used correctly.

Quen looked up from his phone. "I am, Ms. Withon. I've already established that Morgan is acting within the law, and I'm calling Trenton's trial lawyer."

Al was laughing, tears streaming down his face. His hand was against the altar for balance, and the flowers on it were turning black. Being in Lee's body let him touch it with impunity, but he was still a demon, and clearly his presence was being noted.

When we reached the entry way, it hit Trent that I was really tagging him. "This is ridiculous, Rachel," he said, as I bitch-kicked the door open. Moonlight spilled in through the fog shining on the cement steps. "This is my wedding day. You are way out of line."

"Hauling your ass in is justice," I said, squinting from the flashing FIB lights. "Killing Brett was out of line. He didn't know anything. All he wanted was someone to look to."

I shoved Trent through the door before the heavy wood could arc closed, then pulled the damp, cool night air smelling of garbage and exhaust deep into me, relieved to see those FIB cruisers. Officers were all over the place, securing the area before anyone could follow me out.

"Hey! Hi!" I called while I waved, wanting to be sure they knew I was the good guy. "I got him. He's all yours! Just tell me where to put him."

I headed toward the nearest cruiser, pushing Trent before me. "Trust me, Trent," I said when we found the pavement. "You'll thank me for this someday."

"I didn't think you cared about my happiness, Ms. Morgan," he said as an excited officer touched his cap and opened the door for him.

"I don't," I said shortly. "Watch yourself." I put my hand on the back of his head, feeling a jolt of ever-after try to surge to him, checking it just in time. Shaken for my lack of control, I shoved him into the car and slammed the door shut. It was noisy, and I blinked when I realized the bus was still there. I waved, and everyone waved back, the driver tooting the horn. Satisfied, I stood a little taller and slicked my hair back out of my eyes.

Damn, when I was bad, I was good.

The hem of my lacy bridesmaid dress whispered over the cracked gray tile in Edden's office. Sitting hunched in the chair before his desk, I nervously bobbed my foot. The FIB captain had taken possession of my elbow the moment I crossed the Federal Inderland Bureau seal inlaid in the floor of the lobby, dragging me into his office and telling his guide, Rose, to keep me here before stomping out in search of coffee, his son, Glenn, and a first impression that didn't come from me. That had been ten minutes ago. Unless he was grinding the beans himself, or waiting for Glenn to get back from Detroit, I figured he'd come in knowing more than I did.

The jitters had started. It was growing noisy in the lobby, voices raised in protest and demand. By the sound of it, the entire wedding party was out there. I glanced at Jenks, perched on Edden's pencil cup. He looked unusually nervous, having opted to stay with me instead of hanging with Edden as was his habit when we were at the FIB. Leaving the present on the floor, I stood to shake out my dress and went to peek past the blinds. I was getting the distinct idea that Edden hadn't known I was going after Trent Kalamack this evening.

"Maybe we should've gone to the I.S?" Jenks said, his wings making a distracting hum.

"The I.S!" I said, turning to gape at him. "Are you crazy?"

It sounded as if Mr. Ray was close to losing it, and wincing, I reached for the blinds, jerking my hand back when the door scraped open.

Edden stomped in, the muscular, almost squat man so close to my height that it didn't matter. He was in his usual khakis and white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, but the outfit had lost its just-pressed look sometime between dragging me in here and getting the two waxed-paper cups of capped coffee he had sandwiched between a hairy arm and chest.

Feeling guilty, I let the blinds slip from my fingers. The lacy dress made me feel stupid, and I tucked a wayward strand that had escaped my elaborate braid behind an ear and stood with my hands clasped before me like fig leaves. I felt about as vulnerable as if I had been naked, too. Edden had been instrumental in helping me save my butt when I'd quit the I.S., but he had his own bosses to please, and he didn't look happy. Of all the humans I'd met, only his adopted son, Glenn, and my old boyfriend, Nick, were more comfortable with my being… not human.

His round face creased, he set both coffees on the desk and dropped into his chair on the exhale. Captain Edden was not tall, and the first hints of a soft widening of his waist added to his comfortable, late-fifties look. His military background showed in his quick mannerisms and slow decisions, only accentuated by the black hair cropped close to his skull. Lacing his stubby fingers across his middle, he stared at me in annoyance. His mustache was showing more gray than it had last time, and I couldn't help but cringe at the accusing look in his brown eyes.

Jenks clattered his wings as if in apology, and the captain glanced at him as if he ought to have known better before turning his disapproving attention back to me. "Would you be more comfortable running my department from my chair, Rachel?" he said, and I shifted forward to take a coffee just to have something between him and me. "What did you think you were doing, arresting Kalamack at his own wedding?" he added, and I sat down, the focus between my feet.

As if this were good news, Jenks brightened, flying up to land closer to the FIB captain to look satisfied and relieved. I thought it totally unfair that though Jenks and I were partners, I'd be the only one to suffer for any trouble we got into. Pixies were never held accountable for their actions. But then they usually didn't involve themselves this deep in "big people" affairs.

"If I arrested him anywhere else, he would have buried me," I said, singeing my finger and spilling some coffee when I removed the lid. Disgusted with myself, I sopped up the rivulet with my worn shoulder bag before it could drip to my dress. Jeez, I felt like one of those wackos haunting Fountain Square, with my ratty bag, my wrapped gift holding the focus, and wearing a gown that cost more than a semester of tuition.

"You being dead would make my life easier." Edden's face was tight when he leaned to get his coffee. "Listen to that! "he exclaimed, gesturing at the unseen lobby. "My people don't know how to handle this. That's why the I.S. exists! And you bring them all here? To me?"

"I thought you knew what I was doing," I said. "Glenn—"

My words cut off when Edden lifted a hand. His anger slid away, replaced with a rueful pride for his adopted son. "No," he muttered, his eyes dropping to the desk. "He slipped the paperwork in with the requisitions for the company picnic. You're invited, by the way."