From the kitchen came the sound of a sliding chair, followed by Marshal's familiar, resonant voice saying, "Take your time, Rachel. I've got coffee, so I'm happy." There was a hesitation, and as I waited to see if he was going to look into the hall, he added in a preoccupied voice, "What's in the potions? It smells like carbonic wax."
"Uh," I stammered, not wanting to tell him they didn't work. "Locator charms for the FIB. I have to invoke them and put them in disks," I added so he'd leave them alone.
"Cool," he said softly. The squeak of Jenks opening the pixy/kitty door was obvious, and confident that Marshal wasn't going to peek into the hall, I made the dash to my bathroom, easing the door closed when I heard Jenks and Marshal start to talk.
"Oh, that's nice," I whispered when I saw my reflection. Black rings made an obvious showing under my eyes, and I was as pale as Jenks's ass. I'd showered before bed to try and warm up, and sleeping with damp hair had left it looking like snakes had been in it. Thank God Marshal hadn't come out of the kitchen. My complexion amulet would take care of the circles, and I got the water going and slowly undressed while I waited for it to warm.
Carefully, until I knew how dizzy it would make me, I sent my awareness to my ley line out back. Vertigo eased in, and I let go of the line immediately. I wasn't going to be setting a circle any time today, but it was better than last night, and I hoped I wasn't putting myself in danger by walking around not able to set one.
"Nothing different from the first twenty-six years of your life," I whispered, but then again, I hadn't had vampires, demons, and freaked-out elves gunning for me then either.
Because I was mindful of Marshal waiting, my usual twenty-minute indulgence became a hasty five-minute splash-and-dash. My thoughts kept cycling between Marshal in my kitchen and Pierce in the ever-after. Complaining to Dali wasn't a good option. Neither was trying to jump the lines until I could hold one without pain. Al wasn't playing fair, and it was up to me to make him. There had to be a way to get him to respect me other than resorting to Dali.
But my mind stayed blissfully empty all the way through the shampoo, rinse, and repeat.
It was finally the low rumble of Marshal's voice as I was toweling my hair that reminded me I had a more immediate problem sitting in my kitchen drinking coffee. I swung my hair around and wiped the mirror clear, wondering what I was going to do about this. Jenks had probably filled his head with nonsense. I couldn't be Marshal's girlfriend. He was too good a guy, and though he was able to react in a crisis, Marshal probably never had people trying to kill him.
I dressed quickly, then yanked a brush through my damp hair and left it to dry. Jenks's voice was clear as I opened the door and padded stocking-footed to the kitchen. I entered the sun-drenched kitchen to see that the fridge was duct-taped shut, but otherwise normal looking. Jenks was at the table with Marshal, and the tall man looked like he belonged, sitting with the pixy and one of Jenks's kids fighting his noon nap.
Marshal met my eyes, and my smile faded. "Hi, Marshal," I said, remembering how he had helped Jenks and me in Mackinaw when we really needed it. I'd always be grateful for that.
"Morning, Rachel," the witch said as he stood. "New diet plan?"
I followed his eyes to the fridge, reluctant to tell him I'd blown it up. "Yup." I hesitated, then, recalling him visiting me in the hospital, I gave him a quick hug, hardly touching him. Jenks rose with his kid and moved to the sink and the slice of sun. "Any news on my classes?"
Marshal's broad shoulders lifted and fell. "I haven't checked my e-mail today, but I'm going in later. I'm sure it's just a glitch."
I hoped he was right. I'd never heard of a university refusing money. "Thanks for breakfast," I said as I looked at the open box of doughnuts on the counter. "That's really nice."
Marshal ran a hand over his short black hair. "Just checking on you. I've never known anyone to sneak out of the hospital before. Jenks said you had a run-in with Al last night?"
"You made coffee?" I said, not wanting to talk about Al. "Thanks. Smells good." I headed for the carafe beside the sink.
Marshal clasped his hands in front of himself and then let go, as if realizing how vulnerable it made him look. "Ivy made the coffee."
"Before she left," Jenks offered, sitting on the spigot with a kid sleeping on his lap.
I leaned against the sink and sipped my coffee, eyeing the two men at opposite ends of the kitchen. I didn't like my mom playing matchmaker. I liked it even less when Jenks tried it.
Marshal sat back down. He looked uncomfortable. "So, your aura looks better."
