I pushed my plate away. "Too many people. I'd miss someone. Not to mention it would be a black earth charm. I'm not doing it." But I'd twist demon curses? No accounting for tastes, I guess. But Ceri's curse hadn't involved hurting people other than me.

Jenks chewed slowly. "How about putting it into hiding again?"

"I'm not putting it back," Nick protested. "I spent a year's income getting it."

Ignoring him, I frowned. Was he still running his take?

"They'd still come after Rachel," Ivy said. "If you can't make everyone forget," she said to me, "I can only think of one thing to get your life back after crap for brains screwed it up."

Nick took an angry breath. "You call me that again and I'm going to—"

Ivy moved. I jumped, managing to keep my reaction to a small hop when she sent her arm forward and grabbed Nick under his chin. Nick's eyes widened but he didn't move. He had grown up in the Hollows and knew that moving would only make things worse.

Ivy's eyes were almost entirely black. "You'll what, crap for brains?"

"Ivy…" I said tiredly. "Stop it."

Jenks looked from me to Ivy, his eyes bright and his face worried. "Lighten up, Ivy," he said softly. "You know she always sides with the underdog."

Jenks's words penetrated where mine hadn't, and in a flash of brown Ivy's pupils returned to normal. Smiling beatifically, she let go, catching Nick by the collar of his sweatshirt before he could rock back, pretending to adjust it for him. "Sorry, Nickie," she said, her pale fingers patting his hollow cheek a smidgen too hard.

As I tried to purge the adrenaline from me, Nick scooted his chair away, cautiously rubbing his throat. Moving a shade too fast, Ivy refilled her glass from the pitcher. "There's only one solution," she said, bending her straw exactly upright. "Professor here has to die."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I exclaimed, and Nick stiffened, his face red in anger. "Ivy, that's enough."

Jenks pulled his plate of fries closer. "Hey, I'm right there with you," he said, his eyes roving the bar, probably for the nonexistent ketchup. "It would solve everything." He hesitated, wiping his fingers on a napkin. "You grab him, and I'll get your sword from the van."

"Hey!" I shouted, angry. I knew they weren't serious, but they were starting to tick me off. I lowered my voice when the giggling women at the bar looked at us. "Nick, relax. They aren't going to kill you."

Snickering, Jenks started on his fries, and Ivy took on a confident, almost seductive stance, slouching in her chair and smiling with one side of her mouth. "All right," she said. "If you're going to get bent out of shape about it, we won't kill him. We'll stage his spectacular, public death along with the destruction of that thing."

Nick stared at Ivy's confident figure. "I will not let you destroy it," he said vehemently.

She arched her eyebrows. "You can't stop me. It's the only option we have to get those Weres off Rachel's tail, so unless you have a suggestion, I suggest you shut up."

Nick went still. I eyed his brow furrowed in thought, then slid my gaze to Jenks. Jenks was watching him too, his mouth full but his jaws not moving. We exchanged a knowing look. Someone who endured a week of torture wouldn't give up that easy. Ivy didn't seem to notice, but Ivy didn't know Nick like I was starting to know Nick. God, why was I even trying to help him? I thought, jiggling my foot to make my flip-flops pop. Depressed, I reached for my soda.

"So you stage my death and the destruction of the focus," the apparently subdued human said, and Jenks returned to eating, pretending ignorance. "I think they're going to notice when the ambulance takes me to the hospital instead of the morgue."

Ivy's eyes tracked someone headed our way. Glass in hand, I turned to find Becky with three drinks holding umbrellas and cherries on sticks. My eyes went to the flirting women, and I cringed. Oh…how nice. They were trying to pick him up.

"I can get us a body," Ivy said into the silence.

I choked on my drink, coughing at the string of thoughts that remark engendered, but Becky had come forward and I couldn't say a word—even if I could catch my breath.

"Here you go, hon," she said, smiling as she set the drinks squarely before Jenks. "From the ladies at the bar."

"Oh, wow," Jenks said, apparently forgetting what accepting drinks from strangers meant when one was over four inches tall. "Look, pixy swords!"

He reached for the cherry picks, eyes glinting, and I interrupted with a quick, "Jenks!"

Ivy exhaled, sounding tired, and Jenks glanced from one of us to the other. "What?" he said, then reddened. Wincing, he looked up at Becky. "Hey, um, I'm married," he said, and I heard someone swear from the bar. It wasn't the trucker, thank God. "Maybe," he said, pushing them reluctantly to her, "you should return them to the ladies with my, uh, regrets."

"Well, shoot," Becky said, smiling. "You just keep them. I told them a hunk like you would be already hooked, landed, filleted, and cooked." Her smile widened. "And eaten."

Ivy exhaled, and Nick didn't seem to know whether to be proud or embarrassed for his species. Jenks shook his head, probably thinking of Matalina as he pushed them away.

"Did you say you had pie?" Ivy asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Becky smoothly took up the drinks, pixy swords and all. "I have butterscotch or apple. I'll bring out a wedge of apple, seeing as you're allergic to butterscotch."

Ivy blinked but her smile never faltered. "Thank you." She pushed her untouched hamburger at her, and the woman obligingly took both it and my plate. "Put a scoop of ice cream on it?" she asked. "And coffee. Everyone want coffee?" She looked inquiringly at us, smiling in a way that made me decidedly nervous, especially after that "I can get us a body" remark, and I nodded. Coffee? Why not?

"Sugar and cream," Jenks added faintly, and Becky sashayed away, loudly proclaiming to the three women at the bar that she had known it all along.

Ivy watched her go, then looked at me with a questioning scrutiny. I suddenly realized Becky must have talked to Terri from the grocery store. Feeling another one of my stellar, embarrassing moments coming on, I hunched forward and took another sip, hiding behind the glass. No wonder the entire bar was being nice to us. They thought I was a nympho who liked doing it with three people and pudding.

"Why am I allergic to butterscotch?" Ivy asked slowly.

My face flamed, and Jenks stammered, "Ah, Rachel and I are lovers with a thing for foursomes and pudding. Apparently she thinks you and Nick are Alexia and Tom. You're allergic to butterscotch, and crap for brains likes pistachio."

"Stop calling me that," Nick muttered.

Ivy let her breath out. Her eyebrows were arched, and she looked bemused. "Okay…"

I set my drink down. "Can we get back to how we're going to kill Nick? And what's this about a dead body? You'd better start talking quick, Ivy, 'cause I'm not going to play hide-and-seek with a dead guy in my trunk. I did that in college, and I'm not going to do it again."

A smile quirked Ivy's mouth. "Really?" she asked, and I flushed.

"Well, he wasn't dead," I muttered. "But they told me he was. Scared the crap out of me when he kissed my ear when I tried to lug him into—" I stopped when I felt Becky at my elbow, a tray of coffee and pie in her hand.

Smirking, Becky gave everyone their coffee and set a piece of pie à la mode in front of Ivy. Humming "American Woman," she took Jenks's and Nick's empty plates and left.

I eyed the ice cream and then my fork. "You going to eat all that?" I asked, knowing from experience Ivy rarely finished anything.

Glancing at me for permission, Ivy took my coffee cup off its saucer and put the ice cream in its place. I pulled it closer, feeling the tension start to ease. I didn't have a spoon, but my fork worked, and I wasn't going to ask Becky for one.