Free Unbound by Kim Harrison, Melissa Marr, Jeaniene Frost, Vicki Pettersson, Jocelynn Drake Page B

walkway. Sylvan would be free. Jenks’s gaze shifted to the small opening under the dogwood that was Vincet’s home. It was too close for his liking.
    “Jumoke,” Jenks said tersely, and the young pixy rose on a glittering column of sparkles. “Set down a layer of flammable dust on the plastique. I have to get this crap off of me.”
    “You bet, Dad,” he said enthusiastically, zipping to the statue. Jenks had put a heavy layer of dust in the mix already, but a top dusting would flash it all into flame faster than any petroleum product made from dead dinosaur.
    Bis was stretching his neck to get away from the smell, holding the bowl and being more dramatic than Jrixibell pretending to have a sore wing so she wouldn’t have to eat her pollen. He’d used only about half of what he had made. Maybe he should blow both statues up. That would piss off Daryl.
    “You got a problem?” Jenks asked, and Bis shook his head, breath held.
    “No,” Bis said, his thick lips barely moving. “You done with this?”
    “For now,” he said, and Bis shoved the bowl under the bench, then scuttled to the middle of the sidewalk, gasping dramatically when he stopped in the puddle of lamplight.
    Frowning, Jenks wiped his hands off on his red bandanna, then wondered what he was going to do with it. He couldn’t put the symbolic flag of good intent back around his waist. Not only did it stink, but taking it back to Matalina to wash wasn’t an option. Glancing at Vincet, he dropped it into the bowl. If Vincet had a problem with it, he could just suck Tink’s toes.
    Just off the sidewalk beside Sylvan’s statue, Vincet was on one knee, trying to get his kids to go inside. The triplets were clearly unhappy about being told to go to ground. Vincet was just as reluctant to leave Jenks alone to take them there. Even now, he was eyeing the bow and quiver that Jenks had brought with him to ignite the explosive.
    Give me a break,
Jenks thought dryly. Like he’d take the man’s garden? Frowning, he reached for his bow peeking from the small bag beside the dung-filled copper pot. Vincet stiffened when Jenks put the quiver over his shoulders and strung the bow. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten rid of his red bandanna.
    “Go inside,” Vincet said tersely to his children, but they only clung to him tighter.
    “Papa? I’m scared,” Vi said, her eyes riveted to the crap-smeared statue.
    Irritation flashed over Vincet, and taking her hands, the young father faked a smile for his eldest and only daughter. “Go wait with your mother so Jenks can fix this,” he said. “I can’t leave another man alone in my garden with a bow, Vi. Even Jenks. It isn’t right.”
    “But Uncle Jenks won’t touch the flowers,” she whined. “Papa, please come with us. Don’t let the ghost out. Please!”
    Smiling, Jenks gestured for Jumoke, who was bored and flying up and down like a yo-yo. They had time before the moon hit its zenith point. Daryl wouldn’t appear until Sylvan did, and hopefully the statue would be demolished before then. Jenks had to give Jumoke something to do. That darting up and down was irritating.
    “Come here,” he said as he brought out from the bag a pot the size of two fists. “I want you to hold on to the coal pot,” he said, handing it to the excited pixy.
    “Got it,” he said, wings clattering, and Jenks reached up, snagging his foot when he started to flit away.
    “Keep it lit, Jumoke,” he said, yanking him back down so hard Jumoke lost his balance and had to scramble to find it again. “Give it sips of air, nothing more. If it goes out from too much or too little air, I’m going to have to ask Ivy for a light, and that would be embarrassing.”
    “Uh, guys?” Bis interrupted, claws scraping as he slid to a stop beside them.
    “Just a minute, Bis,” Jenks said, turning back to Jumoke. “When I ask, take the top off, okay? Not before. The coal won’t last long given full air.” His voice was severe, but Jumoke