Vivian's face darkened. "Can it wait a moment?" she snapped. "I'm on the phone."

The leprechaun sneered at her, then turned to smile at me. "I be liking your hair the other way," she said, clearly recognizing me. "Hey, isn't this the same place—"

"Yeah," I interrupted her, then shouted, "Mark, when you have a chance, can we have a tall latte over here?" Mark raised his hand in acknowledgment, and I smiled. "There's some money in the bottom of the bag. Help yourself. My treat."

Vivian stretched between the tables to snatch the bag from the leprechaun even as she continued to talk to someone in soft tones. Her eyes widened at the stash, and I wasn't surprised when both the cash and my splat gun went into her pocket. Son of a bitch.

The leprechaun frowned as she fingered the five Vivian had left her. "So how did the wishes go?" she asked me as we waited.

I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. "I gave two away. I'm still digging myself out of the one I used."

She snorted. "Aye, it's a good thing you didn't spend them all. People have been known to die from too many wishes."

"You know one of the wee folk?" Pierce said, the awe in his voice making her beam.

"I let her go for the wish I used to get out of my I.S. contract," I admitted.

Pierce stared at me, aghast. "You accepted a wish from a felon leprechaun?" he asked, making my face warm and the leprechaun frown.

"It isn't like she's an ax murderer," I said. "Besides, the I.S. wanted me to leave." Jeez, look who was talking, Mr. Black Magic.

Pierce lapsed into a pensive silence, and Mark came forward, handing the leprechaun her coffee and looking at me as if trying to figure out how I knew his name. She needed to use two hands to manage it, but her smile was honest enough as she took it, giving him the five and telling him to keep the change.

"Did she really use a wish to find me?" I asked her, thinking how I could use a wish right about now.

"Aye." She took a large draft of her drink as if it were cold milk, not steaming coffee. "The wish is from the West Coast, but we'll honor it. Bitch of a loss on the exchange, though." She glanced at Pierce. "Do I know you?"

His eyes wide, Pierce shook his head violently. "No."

Vivian straightened, smiling as she confidently said, "I'll see you at baggage claim," and snapped her phone closed.

"You're not getting me through security," I said. "Shunned witches can't fly."

"Then it's a good thing it's a private jet."

I sighed, and the leprechaun put her cup down with a tap. "Me coin? I do have a life. I found Rachel Morgan for you. That's all you be wishing for. You want me to help you get her to the airport, that be another wish. And you don't have one."

Eyes fixed on me and Pierce, Vivian stood, drew a coin with a hole in it from her pocket, and handed it to the leprechaun. It looked exactly like Ivy's. The small woman slid from the oversize chair and took it. "You're welcome, chump," she said loudly, then walked to the front with her coffee, smiling beautifully up at the man who held the door for her as he came in.

Nick was sitting at his table. My heart beat faster. Adrenaline washed into me like a drug, and I felt the tingle of anticipation. Pierce eyed me, waiting for direction.

"Go," Vivian said as she gestured to the door, my bag tight in her grip and faded strawberry smears marring the once-perfection of her coat. Her neck was swollen and red, and there were circles under her eyes, making her a far cry from the self-assured, posh, professional coven member I'd first seen in the grocery store. Now she was dirty, tired, and determined. Nice to know I wasn't the only one having a bad week.

"You can't hold me, Vivian," I said with deceptive calm as my foot jiggled out of sight under the table. "You just can't. Soon as I get a good nap in, I'm gone. I don't care what you do to Tom here. He's not my favorite person."

A sifting of pixy dust landed on the table, and I wiped it away. Pierce noticed, and his expression changed as his eyes slowly went from the ceiling to the front of the shop. His breathing became paced and regular. Lovely, lovely adrenaline poured into me. When it wore off, I was going to hurt, but if I was lucky, Vivian would be hurting more.

"I said, get up," Vivian repeated, her hand again in the front pocket of her coat, and together Pierce and I stood. "There's a white van in the lot. Get into it. Leave your coffee here," she added, and Pierce bumped me as he set his down.

"Do you trust him?" Pierce whispered, his breath soft against my ear.

Nick? "No. But look at my choices." I swallowed hard. "Be prepared. He's inventive."

"He is a thief," Pierce said indignantly.

"Yep. He's a slimy little thief who knows how to survive."

I stumbled when Vivian gave me a shove. "Stop talking," she muttered. "Tom, you first through the door. Then her." But true to his nature, Pierce held the door for me when we reached it, glaring stiffly at Vivian from under the brim of his hat, daring her to protest.

"Bug! In my coffee!" exploded a high-pitched, disgusted voice.

I smiled, stopping in the threshold and turning in time to see Nick trip on nothing in his rush to show the clerk his coffee. The cup went flying, hitting Vivian's face in a black wash.

"Out," Pierce hissed, pushing me, but I half-turned, wanting to stay and see the show.

People had looked up, and everyone watched in noisy, shocked concern as Vivian pawed at her face. Nick was there, patting it as he apologized, but things got worse when a shimmer of pixy dust sifted down and Vivian suddenly couldn't open her eyes.

"Ooooh, that's going to hurt," I said, stumbling as Pierce snatched my bag from where Vivian had dropped it and pushed me out the door.

I jerked to a halt at the harsh-winged clatter of an excited pixy. "There's a bus leaving," Jax said breathlessly, inches from my nose. "Don't get on it."

"Get off me!" Vivian shouted, shoving Nick. Nick flew backward into the cold shelves with their cakes and imported waters, but his foot hooked Vivian's, and they both went down.

Pierce pulled me the rest of the way out the door. The cold sunshine hit me. There was the bus, and Pierce ran for it. "Stop the carriage!" he shouted as he waved my bag and ran. "Stop the bus!" he amended, and the bus's brakes hissed as the sliding door opened. They never stopped for me. How come they stopped for him?

I looked behind me at the uproar, then to my mom's car. There was a white van across the lot, and a beat-up Impala that I'd be willing to bet was Nick's. God, my knees hurt.

"Rachel!" Pierce demanded, one foot on the bus's stairs. "On the bus!"

His eyes were wild and beautiful, and though he looked like Tom, he was Pierce. "No," I said as I stumbled to him. "We're going with Nick."

In a flash, Pierce's brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. "I say we're getting on the bus. Don't be difficult. Get on the bus."

I jerked out of his grip, pissed. "Don't tell me what to do!" I shouted, pulling a strand of hair out of my mouth. "I'm going with Nick!"

The driver sighed heavily. "On or off, lady."

I gave him a nasty look. "Off," I said. "Get the hell out of here."

That did it. Pierce barely got out before the man slammed the door in our faces and gunned the big engine. "This is a mistake," Pierce groused loudly as I dragged him to the nearby Dumpster. "No wonder Al agreed to send me to watch you."

"Hey," I said hotly, "I got through my first twenty-six years without you. My life may be messed up, but I am alive. You died, remember?" But I jerked to a stop when we nearly ran into the leprechaun, a long-stemmed pipe in her teeth as she leaned against a pollution-stunted maple and waited for her ride.

Shit. Pleading for mercy with my eyes, I shoved a self-congratulatory Pierce in front of me to slip in the small space between the Dumpster and the privacy wall. Please, please, please.