under his collar. “I can’t wear polyester. Pixies are allergic to polyester. Look. See?” He tilted his head so his blond hair shifted from his neck, but he was too close to focus on. “Welts. And it stinks. I can smell the oil. I’m wearing dead dinosaur. I can’t wear a dead animal. It’s barbaric, Rache,” he pleaded.
“Jenks?” I screwed the cap lightly back onto the canister and hung it over my shoulder, pushing Jenks from me in the process. “I’m wearing the same thing. Suck it up.”
“But it stinks!”
I eyed him hovering before me. “Prune something,” I said through gritted teeth.
He flipped me off with both hands, hovering backward as he went. Whatever. Patting my back pocket of the vile blue jumpsuit, I found my snippers. While Miss Office Professional typed a letter, I snapped open a step stool and began to clip leaves off the hanging plant beside her desk. Jenks started to help, and after a few moments I breathed, “Are we set in there?”
He nodded, his eyes on the open door to Mr. Ray’s office. “The next time he checks his mail, the entire Internet security system is gonna trip. It will take five minutes to fix if she knows what she’s doing, four hours if she doesn’t.”
“I only need five minutes,” I said, starting to sweat in the sun coming in the window. It smelled like a garden in there, a garden with a wet dog panting on the cool tile.
My pulse increased, and I moved down another plant. I was behind the desk, and the woman stiffened. I had invaded her territory, but she had to put up with it. I was the water girl. Hoping she attributed my rising tension to being so close to her, I kept working. My one hand rested on the lid of the watering canister. One twist and it would be off.
“Vanessa!” came an irate shout from the back office.
“Here we go,” Jenks said, flying up to the ceiling and the security cameras.
I turned to see an irate man, clearly a Were by his slight size and build, hanging halfway out of the back office. “It did it again,” he said, his face red and his thick hands gripping the archway. “I hate these things. What was wrong with paper? I like paper.”
A professional smile wreathed the secretary’s face. “Mr. Ray, you yelled at it again, didn’t you? I told you, computers are like women. If you shout at them or ask them to do too many things at once, they shut down and you won’t even get a sniff.”
He growled an answer and disappeared into his office, unaware or ignoring that she had just threatened him. My pulse leapt, and I moved the stool right beside the tank.
Vanessa sighed. “God save him,” she muttered as she got up. “That man could break his balls with his tongue.” Giving me an exasperated look, she went into the back office, her heels thumping. “Don’t touch anything,” she said loudly. “I’m coming.”
I took a quick breath. “Cameras?” I breathed.
Jenks dropped down to me. “Ten-minute loop. You’re clear.”
He flew to the main door, perching himself on the molding above the lintel, to hang over and watch the exterior hallway. His wings blurred to nothing and he gave me a tiny thumbs-up.
My skin tightened in anticipation. I took off the fish tank lid, then pulled the green fishnet from an inner pocket of the jumpsuit. Standing atop the step stool, I pushed my sleeve to my elbow and plunged the net into the water. Immediately both fish darted to the back.
“Rachel!” Jenks hissed, suddenly at my ear. “She’s good. She’s halfway there.”
“Just watch the door, Jenks,” I said, lip between my teeth. How long could it take to catch a fish? I pushed a rock over to get to the fish hiding behind it. They darted to the front.
The phone started ringing, a soft hum. “Jenks, will you get that?” I said calmly as I angled the net, trapping them in the corner. “Got you now …”
Jenks zipped back from the door, landing feet first on the glowing button. “Mr. Ray’s office. Hold please,” he said in a high falsetto.
“Crap,” I swore as the fish wiggled, slipping past the green net. “Come on, I’m just trying to get you home, you slimy finned thing,” I coaxed through gritted teeth. “Almost … almost …” It was between the net and the glass. If it would just hold still …
“Hey!” a heavy voice said from the hall.
Adrenaline jerked my head up. A small man with a trim beard and a folder of papers was standing in the hallway leading to the other offices. “What are you doing?” he asked belligerently.
I glanced at the tank with my arm in it. My net was empty. The fish had slipped past it. “Um, I dropped my scissors?” I said.
From Mr. Ray’s office on my other side came a thump of heels and Vanessa’s gasp. “Mr. Ray!”
Damn. So much for the easy way. “Plan B, Jenks,” I said, grunting as I grabbed the top of the tank and pulled.
In the other room, Vanessa screamed as the tank tipped and twenty-five gallons of icky fish water cascaded over her desk. Mr. Ray appeared beside her. I lurched off the stool, soaked from the waist down. No one moved, shocked, and I scanned the floor. “Gotcha!” I cried, scrabbling for the right fish.
“She’s after the fish!” the small man shouted as more people came in from the hallway. “Get her!”
“Go!” Jenks shrilled. “I’ll keep them off you.”
Panting, I followed the fish in a hunched, scrabbling walk, trying to grab it without hurting it. It wiggled and squirmed, and my breath exploded from me as I finally got my fingers around it. I looked up as I dropped it into the canister and screwed the lid on tight.
Jenks was a firefly from hell as he darted from Were to Were, brandishing pencils and throwing them at sensitive parts. A four-inch pixy was holding three Weres at bay. I wasn’t surprised. Mr. Ray was content to watch until he realized I had one of his fish. “What the hell are you doing with my fish?” he demanded, his face red with anger.
“Leaving,” I said. He came at me, his thick hands reaching. I obligingly took one of them, jerking him forward and into my foot. He staggered back, clutching his stomach.
“Quit playing with those dogs!” I cried at Jenks, looking for a way out. “We have to go.”
Picking up Vanessa’s monitor, I threw it at the plate-glass window. I’d wanted to do that with Ivy’s for a long time. It shattered in a satisfying crash, the screen looking odd on the grass. Weres poured into the room, angry and giving off musk. Snatching the canister, I dove through the window. “After her!” someone shouted.
My shoulders hit manicured grass and I rolled to my feet.
“Up!” Jenks said by my ear. “Over there.”
He darted across the small enclosed courtyard. I followed, looping the heavy canister to hang across my back. Hands free, I climbed the trellis. Thorns pierced my skin, ignored.
My breath came in a quick pant as I reached the top. The snapping of branches said they were following. Hauling myself over the lip of the flat-topped, tar-and-pebble roof, I took off running. The wind was hot up here, and the skyline of Cincinnati spread out before me.
“Jump!” Jenks shouted as I reached the edge.
I trusted Jenks. Arms flailing and feet still going, I ran right off the roof.
Adrenaline surged as my stomach dropped. It was a parking lot! He sent me off the roof to land in a parking lot!
“I don’t have wings, Jenks!” I screamed. Teeth gritted, I flexed my knees.
Pain exploded as I hit the pavement. I fell forward, scraping my palms. The canister of fish clanged and fell off as the strap broke. I rolled to absorb the impact.
The