Couch? I thought dryly. He'd just as soon see Ivy and me sharing more than rent, but I couldn't find a hint of suggestion in his tone. Besides, I couldn't spend the night there. I had to get hold of my scrying mirror to call Al and get tomorrow off, and all before sunrise. This time of year put it at about eight, and I was starting to get anxious.
"The Chickering was delivered last week," Rynn Cormel said, shifting so his entire attention landed on me. "Have you heard Ivy play the piano, Rachel? She has such a sensitive touch. She should have been encouraged to go professional." Then he smiled. "Though she will have centuries to follow that path if she ever desires."
"Yes," I said, remembering the few times I'd walked in on Ivy lost at the keys. She quit every time; the piano left her more open and raw than she wanted me to see her.
"Wonderful." Cormel leaned to touch the driver in direction. "Call ahead to get the heat turned up, if you would."
My eyes closed briefly at the misunderstanding and I shook my head. "No, I mean I've heard her play, but we can't stay."
"Thank you anyway, Rynn," Ivy said softly, as if she'd been waiting for me to say no first. "Jenks needs to get home to mind the firm. No one will arrest a pixy, but it's likely there will be trouble, and I don't want to be halfway across the Hollows when it hits our door."
Cormel arched his dark eyebrows, his pale complexion making them appear stark in the dim light. "You'll have dinner with me at least? I don't have the chance since leaving office to entertain as often as I'm accustomed to. I find I miss it, surprisingly." He smiled faintly, settling himself with the sound of sliding cashmere. "It's impressive how many political understandings one can reach over a glass of good wine. Tasha is out, and I don't think I can stand another evening listening to our security procedures and how to improve them."
The driver chuckled, but when I took a breath to gracefully decline, Cormel inclined his head, stopping me. "I need a few hours to get your AMA pushed through. You can be sleeping in your own church this morning. Let me do this for you. I need to speak to Ivy as well about what I learned."
Ivy's eyes flicked to mine, asking me to say yes. She obviously liked the man, and knowing how Piscary had treated her, I found it hard to say no. Besides, I wanted to know who'd killed Kisten, too. Thinking I was vacillating, Jenks whispered, "Why the hell not?"
Dinner was a small price to pay for my AMA and information about Kisten, and I nodded, anticipation replacing my faint caution. Ivy smiled, and the driver made a slow U-bangy to head to the Hollows waterfront.
"Capital," Cormel said as he gave us all a closed-lipped but sincere smile. "Jeff, would you call ahead to make sure there's a bite to eat while dinner is being finished? And make sure we have two extra places, please, and something for Jenks."
The living vamp beside Ivy took out his cell phone and hit a single number. Jeff was the one with only a single visible scar, but I was willing to bet there were more hidden under his T-shirt. His low voice was pleasant and hardly audible over the blowing of the heater, turned high for Jenks or possibly me. Cormel and Ivy talked about nothing as my gut wound tighter, until Cormel cracked a window to get rid of the tension I was giving off. I thought my anticipation was from finding out what Cormel had learned about Kisten's death, but when we turned onto the waterfront, I realized where the adrenaline was really coming from.
The instant the wheels turned onto the less-used street, an old fear dripped through me, igniting memory. We were going to Piscary's.
I looked down to find that my hands were clenched, and I forced them apart as we slowed to a crawl. The place looked about the same, the two-story tavern peaceful under six inches of undisturbed snow. The lights were on upstairs, and someone was closing the drapes. A section of the parking lot had been torn up and young trees now stood where rusty two-doors had once parked. The beginnings of a wall had been started to fence in a garden, perhaps, not done and so left until the spring and warmer temperatures. There was no boat at the quay.
"You okay, Rache?" Jenks asked, and I exhaled, forcing my hands to unclasp again.
"Yeah," I said softly. "I haven't been here since Kisten died."
"Me neither," he said, but he hadn't ever been here to begin with. Except when I was here getting into trouble, that is.
I flicked a glance at Ivy as we crept to the side entrance where trucks had once delivered produce from all over the world. She looked fine, but she'd been here often enough that the pain had dulled. Everyone was silent as we stopped before the closed door to the loading dock. A vamp got out to open it, and Jenks's wings brushed my neck as he snuggled in against the cold.
