Every Which Way But Dead - Page 23/33

"Damn!" I swore, backpedaling. The sanctuary. If I could reach holy ground, he couldn't touch me. I shrieked as a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. Spinning, I clawed at his face. It went misty, and I lurched when his grip vanished. In an instant he had my ankle and jerked me off my feet. "Let go!" I shouted when I hit the floor, my voice harsh as I kicked him.

He spun me sliding into the fridge. His long face took on a sun-starved complexion and his red goat eyes turned eager over his smoked glasses. I scrambled up, and he lunged, grabbing me with his white-gloved hand and giving me a shake to rattle my teeth. He shoved me, and I landed against the center island counter like a rag doll. Turning, I put my back against it, wide-eyed and heart beating fast. I was so stupid. I was so stupid!

"If you run again, I'll call you in breach of our agreement," he said calmly. "That's your warning. Please run. It will make everything so-o-o-o much simpler."

Shaking, I held onto the counter for balance. "Go away," I said. "I didn't summon you."

"It's not that simple anymore," he said. "It took me a day in the library, but I found precedence." His precise accent became even more officious, and he put the back of his knuckles to his velvet green frock and quoted, "'If said familiar is stationed at a beta site by way of loan or similar event, the master may seek the familiar out to perform duties.'You opened the door by tapping a line," he added. "And since I have a task for you, I'm here until you finish it."

I felt sick. "What do you want?" There was a spell pot on my counter full of an amber liquid smelling of geranium. I hadn't counted on him bringing his work to me.

"What do you want - master," Al prompted, smiling to show me his thick, blocky teeth.

I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I want you to get the hell out of my kitchen."

His smile never flickered as, with a powerful motion, he backhanded me. I stifled a gasp, lurching for balance. Adrenaline surged as he gripped my shoulder, keeping me upright.

"Funny, funny girl," he murmured, his British elegance chilling me and his beautiful chiseled looks turning harsh. "Say it."

The sharp taste of blood edged my tongue. My back pressed into the counter painfully. "What do you want, oh gracious master from my ass."

I didn't have time to duck as the flat of his hand swung. Pain shocked through my cheek, and I hit the floor. Al's silver-buckled boots edged my vision. He was wearing white stockings, and there was lace where they met the bottom of his trousers.

Nausea rose. I touched my cheek, feeling it burn and hating him. I tried to rise, unable to when he put a foot on my shoulder and forced me down. Hating him all the more, I tossed my hair aside so I could see him. What difference did it make? "What do you want, master?"

I felt like I was going to vomit.

His thin lips curled up in a smile. Tugging the lace from his sleeves, he bent to solicitously help me up. I refused, but he yanked me up so fast that I found myself pressed against him, breathing in the scent of crushed velvet and burnt amber. "I want this," he whispered, running a hand up under my sweater, searching.

My heart raced. Stiffening, I clenched my teeth. I'll kill him. Somehow, I'll kill him.

"Such a touching conversation with your roommate," he said, and I twitched, as his voice had shifted to Ivy's. Ever-after zinged through me as his appearance shifted while still touching me. Red goat eyes stared at me from Ivy's perfect face. Lean and tight, the image of her body wrapped in leather pressed against me, pinning me to the counter. The last time, he had bitten me. Oh, God. Not again.

"But maybe you want this instead," he said with her gray silk voice, and sweat started at the small of my back. Her long straight hair brushed my cheek, the silky whisper pulling an unstoppable shiver from my skin. Feeling it where our bodies touched, he leaned close until I recoiled.

"Don't pull away," he said with her voice, and my resolve grew. He was slime. He was a bastard. I'd kill him for this. "I'm sorry, Rachel...." he breathed, long fingers burninginto tingles where they touched, tracing a line from my shoulder to my hip. "I'm not angry. I understand you're afraid. But the things I could teach you - if you knew the heights of passion we could find." His breath shuddered. Ivy's arms were around me cool and light - gentling me to him against my will. I could smell her rich scent of dark incense and ash. He had her perfectly.

"Let me show you?" the vision of Ivy whispered, and I closed my eyes. "Just a taste...I know I can change your mind."

It was pleading, heavy with her vulnerable desires. It was everything she hadn't said, everything she wouldn't. My eyes opened as my scar flashed to life. God, no. Fire raced to my groin. Knees buckling, I tried to push away. Demon-red eyes shifted to a liquid brown, and his grip grew firmer, pulling me closer until his breath came and went on my neck. "Gently, Rachel," her voice whispered. "I could be so gentle. I could be everything a man can't be. Everything you want. Just one little word, Rachel. Tell me you will?"

I couldn't...I couldn't deal with this right now. "Didn't you have something for me to do?" I said. "The sun will be up soon and I need to get to bed."

"Slowly," he crooned, Ivy's breath smelling of oranges. "There's only one first time."

"Let go of me," I said tightly. "You aren't Ivy and I'm not interested."

Ivy's passion-filled black eyes narrowed, but Al's attention was over my shoulder and I didn't think it was anything I had said. He let go of me, and I stumbled to catch my balance. A shimmer of ever-after cascaded over him, melting his features back to his usual vision of a young British lord of the eighteenth century. The glasses were back to hide his eyes, and he adjusted them on his thin-bridged nose. "How grand," he said, his accent shifting as well. "Ceri."

There was the distant boom of the front door crashing open. "Rachel!" came her voice, high and frightened. "He's this side of the lines!"

Heart pounding, I spun. I took a breath to warn her, but it was too late. My outstretched hand fell as she lurched into the room, her simple white dress furling about her bare feet as she stopped in the archway. Green eyes wide and soulful, she put a hand to her chest atop Ivy's crucifix. "Rachel..." she breathed, dismay slumping her shoulders.

Al took a step and she spun in a dancer's circle, toe pointed and unbound hair furling. She recited an unheard poem laced with darkness, and a ripple of line energy cascaded between us. White-faced and holding her arms, she stared at him, trembling within her small circle.

The stately demon beamed, adjusting the lace about his collar. "Ceri. How splendid to see you. I miss you, love," he almost purred.

The young woman's chin trembled. "Banish him, Rachel," she said, her fear obvious.

I tried to swallow, failing. "I tapped a line. He found precedence. He has a task for me."

Her eyes widened. "No..."

Al frowned. "I haven't been in the library in a thousand years. They were whispering behind my back, Ceri. I had to renew my card. It was most embarrassing. Everyone knows you're gone. Zoë is making my tea. It's the most awful tea I've ever had - he can't hold the sugar spoon with only two digits. Do come back." His pleasant face creased into a smile. "I'll make it worth your soul."

Ceri jerked. Chin high, she said haughtily, "My name is Ceridwen Merriam Dulciate."

A rough sound of mirth escaped him. Taking off his glasses, he leaned an elbow against the counter. Mocking gaze on mine, he murmured, "Ceri, be a dear and make a spot of tea?"

My face went slack as Ceri dropped her head and took a step. Al chuckled when she made a cry of self-disgust and stopped at the edge of her circle. Tiny fists clenched, she fumed.

"Old habits die hard," he mocked.

Bile bubbled up. Even now she was his. "Leave her alone," I snarled.

From nowhere, a white-gloved hand struck me. I spun into the counter, jaw burning. Gasping, I hunched over it with my hair falling about my face. I was getting tired of this.

"Don't hit her!" Ceri said, her voice high and virulent.

"Does it bother you?" he said lightly. "Pain moves her more than fear. Which is good - pain keeps a person alive longer than fear."

My hurt turned to anger. Eyebrows high, he dared me to protest as I found my breath. His goat eyes slid to the head-sized vat he had brought with him. "Let's get started, shall we?"

I looked at the pot, recognizing the brew by the smell. It was the one to make a person into a familiar. Fear chilled me, and I wrapped my arms about myself. "I'm already coated with your aura," I said. "Making me take more isn't going to make a difference."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

I sprang back as he moved. Grinning, he extended the basket that had appeared in his hand. I could smell wax. "Set the candles," he ordered, amused at my quick reaction.

"Rachel..." Ceri whispered, but I couldn't look at her. I had promised to be his familiar, and now I would be. Miserable, my thoughts went to Ivy as I set the milky green candles at the spots marked by black nail polish. Why couldn't I make good choices?

My grip on the last candle trembled. It had gouges on it, as if something had tried to break the circle by going through it. Something with big nasty claws.

"Rachel!" Al barked, and I jumped. "You didn't set them with their place names."

Still holding the last candle, I stared blankly. Past him, Ceri nervously licked her lips.

"You don't know their place names," Al added, and I shook my head, not wanting to be hit again, but Al only sighed. "I'll set them myself when I light them," he grumbled, his pale face taking on a ruddy tinge. "I expected more of you than this. Apparently you've been spending most of your time with earth magic, neglecting your ley line arts."

"I'm an earth witch," I said. "Why would I bother?"

Ceri jerked as Al threatened to smack me again, her almost translucent hair swirling. "Let her go, Algaliarept. You don't want her for a familiar."

"Offering to take her place?" he mocked, and I took a fearful breath that she might.

"No!" I shouted, and he laughed.

"Don't fret, Rachel, love," he crooned, and I flinched when he ran a gloved finger across my jawline, tracing the path down my arm to my hand to take the last candle from me. "I keep my familiars until something better comes along, and despite you being as ignorant as a frog, you're capable of holding almost twice the line energy that she can." He leered. "Lucky you."

Clapping his white-gloved hands once, he spun to make his coattails furl. "Now. Watch closely, Rachel. You'll be lighting my candles tomorrow. These are words that move mortals and gods alike, making all equal and capable of keeping my circle whole against even Newt."

Swell.

"Salax," he said as he lit the first candle from the pencil-thick red taper that had appeared in his gloved hand. "Aemulatio," he said as he lit the second. "Adfictatio, cupidus, and my favorite, inscitia," he said as he lit the last one. Smiling, the still-glowing taper vanished. I felt him tap a line, and with a translucent swirl of red and black, his circle rose to arch closed over our heads. My skin prickled from its strength, and I clasped my arms about myself.

These are a few of my favorite things, I heard patter through my mind, and I stifled a hysterical giggle. I was going to be a demon's familiar. There was no way out of it now.

Al's head jerked up at the ugly choking sound, and Ceri's face went still. "Algaliarept," she pleaded. "You're pushing her too hard. Her will is too strong to bend easily."

"I'll break my familiars the way I see fit," he said calmly. "A little grounding, and she'll be as right as rain in the desert." One hand on his hip and the other cupping his chin, he eyed me speculatively. "Time for your bath, love."

Algaliarept snapped his fingers with a showman's flair. His hand opened, and a cedar-slatted bucket appeared hanging from it. My eyes widened as he threw its contents at me.

Cold water smacked into me. My breath whooshed out in an affronted yelp. It was saltwater, stinging my eyes and dribbling into my mouth. Reality washed through me, clearing my head. He was making sure I didn't have any potions in me to contaminate the coming spell. "I don't use potions, you big green turd!" I shouted, shaking my arms in my sodden sleeves.

"See?" Al was clearly pleased. "All better."

The slight ache of my ribs intruded as my pain charm broke. Most of the water was soaking my spell book library. If I survived this, I'd have to air them all out. What a jerk.

"Ooooh, your eye is doing nicely," he said as he reached forward to touch it. "Eating your roommate's Brimstone, are we? Wait until you try the real stuff. It will knock your socks off."

I jerked back when his gloved hand brushed my skin with the scent of lavender, but Al's hand dropped lower to grasp my hair. Shrieking, I swung my foot up. He caught it, moving faster than I could follow. Ceri watched in pity as I fought, helpless. Holding my foot high, he forced me against the counter. His glasses had been knocked aside, and he smiled at me with a domineering delight. "The hard way," he whispered. "Marvelous."

"No!" I exclaimed as a pair of sheers suddenly glinted in his hand.

"Hold still," he said, dropping my foot and pinning me against the counter.

I wiggled and spit at him, but he had me against the counter and I could do nothing. I panicked as I heard metal sheering. He let go by turning misty, and I fell to the floor.

Hand clutching my hair, I scrambled to my feet. "Stop it! Just stop it!" I shouted, alternating my attention between his glee and the chunk he had cut from my hair. Damn it, it was at least four inches long. "Do you know how long it takes to grow my hair out!"

Al gave Ceri a sidelong glance as the scissors disappeared and he dropped my hair into the potion. "She's worried about her hair?"

My gaze shot to the red strands floating on top of Al's brew, and as I stood there in my soggy sweater, I went cold. That vat of potion wasn't for Al to give me more of his aura. It was for me giving him mine. "Oh, hell no!" I exclaimed, backing up. "I'm not giving you my aura!"

Al plucked a ceramic spoon from the rack hanging over the center island counter and pushed the strands of hair down. He had a refined elegance in his velvet and lace, every inch of him as trim and debonair as inhumanly possible. "Is that a refusal, Rachel?" he murmured. "Please tell me it was?"

"No," I whispered. There was nothing I could do. Nothing.

His smile went wider. "Now your blood to quicken it, love."

Pulse pounding, I looked from the needle between his finger and thumb to the vat. If I ran, I was his. If I did this, he could use me through the lines. Damn, damn, and double damn.

Numbing my thoughts, I took the tarnished silver needle. My mouth went dry as its heavy weight filled my grip. It was as long as my palm and elaborately tooled. The tip was copper so the silver wouldn't interfere with the charm. Peering closer, I felt my stomach turn. There was a naked twisted body writhing around the barrel. "God save me," I whispered.

"He's not listening. He's too busy."

I stiffened. Al had come up behind me and was whispering in my ear.

"Finish the potion, Rachel." His breath was hot on my cheek, and I couldn't move as he pulled my hair back. A shudder rippled through me as he tilted his head and bent closer. "Finish it..." he breathed, his lips brushing my skin. I could smell starch and lavender.

Teeth gritted, I gripped the needle and stabbed it into me. My held breath came out, and I held it again. I thought I heard Ceri crying.

"Three drops," Al whispered, nuzzling my neck.

My head hurt. Blood pounding, I held my finger over the vat and massaged three drops into it. The scent of redwood rose, briefly overpowering the cloying stench of burnt amber.

"Mmmm, richer." His hand wrapped around mine, taking the needle back. It vanished in a smear of ever-after, and his grip shifted to my bleeding finger. "Give me a taste?"

I jerked back as far from him as I could, my arm stretched out between us. "No."

"Leave her alone!" Ceri pleaded.

Slowly Al's grip loosened. He watched me, a new tension rising in him.

I wrestled my hand away and put another step between us. I clutched my arms about me, cold despite the heater blowing on my bare feet.

"Get on the mirror," he said, his face expressionless behind his smoked glasses.

My gaze shot to it waiting for me on the floor. "I - I can't," I whispered.

His thin lips pressed together, and I gritted my teeth to keep silent when he picked me up and set me on it. I inhaled, eyes widening when I felt like I slipped two inches into the mirror. "Oh God, oh God," I moaned, wanting to reach for the counter, but Al was in the way, grinning.

"Push your aura off," he said.

"I can't," I panted, feeling myself hyperventilate.

Al pulled his glasses down his thin nose and looked at me over them. "Doesn't matter. It's dissolving like sugar in the rain."

"No," I whispered. My knees started shaking and the pounding in my head worsened. I could feel my aura slipping away and Al's taking a stronger hold on me.

"Capital and fine," Al said, his goat eyes on the mirror.

My gaze followed his, and I clutched at my stomach. I could see myself in it. My face was covered in Al's aura, black and empty. Only my eyes showed, a faint glow flickering about them. It was my soul, trying to make enough aura to put between Al's aura and me. It wasn't enough as the mirror sucked it all up and I could feel Al's presence sink into me.

I found I was panting. I imagined what it must have been like for Ceri, her soul utterly gone and Al's aura seeping into her like this all the time, alien and wrong.

I shook. Hands clasped over my mouth, I looked frantically for something to throw up in. Gagging, I lurched off the mirror. I would not spew. I wouldn't.

"Marvelous," Al said as I hunched over, my teeth clenched and my bile rising. "You got all of it. Here. I'll just slip it into the vat for you."

His voice was cheery and bright, and as I peered at him from around my hair, Al dropped the mirror into the potion. The brew flashed to clear. Just like I knew it would.

Ceri was sitting on the floor, crying with her head on her knees. She pulled her head up, and I thought she looked all the more beautiful for her tears. I only looked ugly when I cried.

I jumped when a thick yellowed tome hit the counter beside me. The light through the window was starting to brighten, but the clock said it was only five. Almost three hours before the sun would rise to end this nightmare, unless Al ended it sooner.

"Read it."

Looking down, I recognized it. It was the book I had found in my attic, the one that Ivy claimed wasn't among the ones she planted up there for me, the very same one that I had given to Nick to hold for me after I accidentally used it to make him my familiar and the same book that Al had tricked away from us. The one Algaliarept wrote to make people into demon familiars. Shit.

I swallowed hard. My fingers looked pale as I put them on the text, running down to find the incantation. It was in Latin, but I knew the translation. "Some to you, but all to me," I whispered. "Bound by ties made so by plea."

"Pars tibi, totum mihi," Al said, grinning. "Vinctus vinculuis, prece fractis."

My fingers started shaking. "Moon made safe, ancient light made sane. Chaos decreed, taken tripped if bane."

"Luna servata, lux sanata. Chaos statutum, pejus minutum. Go on. Finish."

There was only one line left. One line, and the spell would be complete. Nine words, and my life would be a living hell whether I was on this side of the lines or not. I took a breath. Then another. "Lee of mind," I whispered. My voice trembled, and it was getting harder to breathe. "Bearer of pain. Slave until the worlds are slain..."

Al's grin widened and his eyes flashed black. "Mentem tegens, malum ferens," he intoned. "Semper servus. Dum duret - mundus."

With an eager impatience, Al pulled his gloves from his hands and plunged his hands into the vat. I jerked. A twang reverberated through me, followed by gut-wrenching dizziness. Black and smothering, the charm wrapped about my soul, numbing me.

Red-knuckled hands dripping, Al steadied himself against the counter. A shimmer of red cascaded over him, and his image blurred before settling. He blinked, seemingly shaken.

I took a breath, then another. It was done. He had my aura for good - all but what my soul was desperately trying to replace to insinuate between my being and Al's aura still coating me. Maybe in time it would get better, but I doubted it.

"Good," he said, tugging his sleeves down and wiping his hands off on a black towel that had appeared in his grip. White gloves materialized, hiding his hands. "Good and done. Capital."

Ceri cried softly, but I was too drained to even look at her.

My cell phone chirped from my bag on the far counter, sounding absurd.

The last of Al's fleeting disquiet vanished. "Oh, do let me answer," he said, breaking the circle as he went to get it.

I shuddered as I felt a slight pull from my empty center as the energy went back through Al and into the line it originated from. Al's eyebrows were high in delight when he turned with my cell phone in his gloved hand. "I wonder who it is?" he simpered.

Unable to stand any longer, I slipped to the floor, my back to the counter as I hugged my knees. The vent air was warm on my bare feet, but my damp jeans soaked up the cold. I was Al's familiar. Why was I even bothering to keep the air moving in and out of my lungs?

"That's why they take your soul," Ceri whispered. "You can't kill yourself if they have your will."

I stared, only now understanding.

"Hello-o-o-o?" Al purred, leaning against the sink, the pink cylinder looking odd against his old world charm. "Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos! What a delight!"

My head came up. "Nick?" I breathed.

Al held a long hand over the receiver and simpered. "It's your boyfriend. I'll field it for you. You look tired." Wrinkling his nose, he turned to the phone. "Feel that, did you?" he said cheerfully. "Something missing, now is there? Be careful what you wish for, little wizard."

"Where's Rachel!" came Nick's voice, thin and tinny. He sounded panicked, and my heart sank. I reached out, knowing Al wouldn't give the phone to me.

"Why, she's at my feet," Al said, grinning. "Mine, all mine. She made a mistake, and now she's mine. Send her flowers for her grave. It's all you can do."

The demon listened for a moment, emotions flickering over him. "Oh, don't be making promises you can't keep. It is so-o-o-o lower class. As it happens, I'm not in need of a familiar anymore, so I won't be responding to your little summons; don't call me. She saved your soul, little man. Too bad you never told her how much you loved her. Humans are so stupid."

He broke the connection with Nick in mid-protest. Snapping the phone closed, he dropped it back in my bag. It started ringing immediately, and he tapped it once. My phone played its obnoxious good-bye song and shut off.

"Now." Al clapped his hands. "Where were we? Ah yes. I'll be right back. I want to see it work." Red eyes glowing in delight, he vanished with a small shift of air.

"Rachel!" Ceri cried. She fell into me, dragging me out of the broken circle. I pushed at her, too depressed to try to get away. It was coming. Al was going to fill me with his force, making me feel his thoughts, turning me into a copper-top battery that could make his tea and do his dishes. The first of my helpless tears dribbled out, but I couldn't find the will to hate myself for them. I knew I should be crying. I had gambled my life to put Piscary away and lost.

"Rachel! Please!" Ceri pleaded, her grip on my arm hurting as she tried to drag me. My damp feet made a squeaking noise, and I pushed at her, trying to get her to stop.

A red bubble of ever-after popped into existence where Al had pinged out. The air pressure violently shifted, and both Ceri and I clasped our hands to our ears.

"Damn it all to heaven and back!" Al swore, his velvet green frock open and in disarray. His hair was wild and his glasses were gone. "You did everything right!" he shouted, gesturing violently. "I've got your aura. You've got mine. Why can't I reach you through the lines!"

Ceri knelt behind me, her arm protectively about me. "It didn't work?" she quavered, pulling me back a little more. Her wet finger traced a quick circle about us.

"Do I look like it worked?" he exclaimed. "Do I look happy to you?"

"No," she breathed, and her circle expanded about us, black-smeared but strong. "Rachel," she said, giving me a squeeze. "You're going to be okay."

Al went still. Deathly quiet, he turned, his boots making a soft sound against the flooring. "No, she isn't."

My eyes widened at his frustrated anger. Oh God. Not again.

I stiffened as he tapped a line and sent it crashing into me. With it came a whisper of his emotion, satisfied and anticipatory. Fire coursed through me, and I screamed, pushing Ceri away. Her bubble burst in a glittering sensation of hot needles, adding to my agony.

Curled into a fetal position, I frantically thought the word, Tulpa, slumping in relief as the torrent coursed through me and settled in the sphere in my head. Panting, I slowly pulled my head up. Al's confusion and frustration filled me. My anger grew until it overshadowed his emotions.

Al's thoughts in mine shifted to stark surprise. Vision blurring as what I was seeing conflicted with what my brain said was true, I stumbled to my feet. Most of the candles were out, knocked over to make puddles of wax and scenting the air with smoke. Al felt my defiance through our link, and his face turned ugly when my pride for having learned to store energy seeped into him. "Ceri..." he threatened, his goat eyes narrowing.

"It didn't work," I said, my voice low as I watched him from around my stringy wet hair. "Get out of my kitchen."

"I'm going to have you, Morgan," Al snarled. "If I can't take you by right, I'll by god beat you into submission and pull you in, broken and bleeding."

"Oh yeah?" I came back with. I glanced at the pot that had held my aura. His eyes widened in surprise as he knew my thought the instant I had it. The bond now went both ways. He had made a mistake.

"Get out of my kitchen!" I exclaimed, dumping the line energy he had forced me to hold back through our familiar link and into him. I jerked upright as it all flowed from me and into him, leaving me empty. Al stumbled backward, shocked.

"You canicula!" he cried, his image blurring.

Staggering to remain upright, he tapped the line, adding more force.

Eyes narrowing, I set my thoughts to loop it right back at him. Whatever he was going to send into me was going to end up right back in him.

Al choked as he sensed what I was going to do. There was a sudden wrench in my gut and I stumbled, catching myself against the table as he broke the live connection between us. I stared at him across the kitchen, breath rough. This was going to be settled right here and now. One of us was going to lose. And it wasn't going to be me. Not in my kitchen. Not tonight.

Al put one foot behind him, taking a deceptively relaxed stance. He ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it. His round smoked glasses appeared, and he buttoned his frock. "This isn't working," he said flatly.

"No," I rasped. "It isn't."

Safe in her circle, Ceri snickered. "You can't have her, Algaliarept, you big stupid," she mocked, making me wonder at her word choice. "You made the familiar gate swing both ways when you forced her to give you her aura. You're her familiar as much as she is yours."

Al's momentary placid face blossomed into anger. "I've used this spell a thousand times to milk auras, and this has never happened before. And I am not her familiar."

I watched, feeling tense and ill as a three-legged stool appeared behind Al. It looked like something Attila the Hun would have used, with a red velvet cushion and horsehair fringe going to the floor. Not bothering to see if it was behind him, he sat, his expression puzzled.

"That's why Nick called," I said, and Al gave me a patronizing look. When he took my aura, it broke the bond I had with Nick. He had felt it. Aw, crap. Al was my familiar?

Ceri gestured that I should join her in her circle, but I couldn't chance that Al might hurt her in the instant it would take to reform it. Al, though, was preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"This isn't right," he mumbled. "I've done this before with hundreds of witches with souls and it's never forged a bond this strong. What's so different about..."

My stomach dropped as all visible emotion drained from him. He glanced at the clock above the sink, then me. "Come here, little witch."

"No."

He pressed his lips together and stood.

Gasping, I backpedaled, but he had my wrist and pulled me to the island counter. "You've done this spell before," he said as he squeezed my pricked finger, making it bleed again. "When you made Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos your familiar. It was your blood in the brew, little witch, that invoked it?"

"You know it was." I was too drained to be frightened anymore. "You were there." I couldn't see his eyes, but my reflection in his glasses looked ugly and pale with wet stringy hair.

"And it worked," he said thoughtfully. "It didn't just bind you, it bound you tight enough for you to draw a line through him?"

"That's why he left," I said, surprised I could still feel the pain.

"Your blood kindled the spell fully...." Speculation wasthick in his goat eyes as he looked at me from over his glasses. He drew my hand up, and though I tried to wiggle free of him, he licked the blood from my finger with a cold, tingling sensation. "So subtly scented," he breathed, his eyes never leaving mine. "Like perfumed air your lover has walked through."

"Let go," I said, pushing at him.

"You should be dead," he said, his voice full of wonder. "How is it that you're still alive?"

Jaw clenched, I worked at his grip on me, trying to get my fingers between him and my wrist. "I work hard at it." With a gasp, I fell back as he released his hold.

"You work hard at it." Smiling, he took a step back and gave me a once-over. "The mad have a grace all their own. I must go start a study group."

Frightened, I hunched over my wrist and held it.

"And I will have the likes of you as my own, Rachel Mariana Morgan. Count on it."

"I'm not going into the ever-after," I said tightly. "You'll have to kill me first."

"You don't have a choice," he intoned, chilling me. "You tap a line when the sun is down, and I'll find you. You can't make the circle that can keep me out. If you aren't on holy ground, I'll beat you silly and drag you into the ever-after. And from there, you will not escape."

"Try it," I threatened, reaching behind me to find the meat-tenderizing hammer hanging on the overhead rack. "You can't touch me unless you go solid, and it's going to hurt, red man."

Brow furrowed in concern, Al hesitated. The thought flitted through me that it must be like swatting at a wasp. Timing is everything.

Ceri was wearing a smile I didn't understand. "Algaliarept," she said softly. "You made a mistake. She found a loophole in your contract, and now you'll accept it and leave Rachel Mariana Morgan alone. If you don't, I'm going to start a school on holding line energy."

The demon's face went blank. "Ah, Ceri? Wait a moment, love."

Hammer in hand, I backed up until her bubble was cold at my back. Her hand reached out, and I jumped when she pulled me in, her circle flashing up almost before I knew it had fallen. My shoulders eased at the shimmer of black between us and Al. There was only the faintest glimmer of pale blue from her damaged aura visible through the smutAl had left on her. I patted her hand as she gave me a relieved, sideways hug. "Is that a problem?" I asked, not understanding why Al was so upset.

Ceri was positively smug. "I escaped him knowing how. He'll get in trouble for it. Big trouble. I'm surprised he hasn't been called up on it yet. But then, no one knows." She turned her mocking green eyes on Al. "Yet."

I felt an odd stab of alarm as I took in the savage satisfaction on her. She had known this all along, simply waiting until the information could best be used. The woman was more contriving than Trent, and she didn't seem to have a problem gambling with people's lives, either, mine included. Thank God she was on my side. She was, wasn't she?

Al raised a protesting hand. "Ceri, we can talk about this."

"In a week," she said confidently, "there won't be a ley line witch in Cincinnati that won't know how to be their own familiar. In a year, the world will be closed to you and your kind, and you will have to answer for it."

"Is it that big of a deal?" I asked as Al adjusted his glasses and shifted from foot to foot. It was cold away from the vent, and I shivered in my damp clothes.

"It's harder to lull a person into foolish choices if they can fight back," Ceri said. "If it gets out, their pool of potential familiars will be weak and undesirable in a matter of years."

My mouth dropped open. "Oh."

"I'm listening," Al said, sitting with an uncomfortable stiffness.

Hope so strong it was almost painful raced through me. "Take your demon mark off me, break the familiar bond, agree to leave me alone, and I won't tell."

Al snorted. "Not shy about asking for things, are you?"

Ceri gave my arm a warning squeeze and let go. "Let me do this. I've written most of his nonverbal contracts the last seven hundred years. Can I speak for you?"

I looked at her, her eyes alight and savage with her need for revenge. Slowly I set the hammer down. "Sure," I said, wondering just what, exactly, I had saved from the ever-after.

She pulled herself straighter, an official air falling over her. "I propose that Al will take his mark off you and break the familiar bonds between you both, in return for your solemn vow to not teach anyone how to hold line energy. Furthermore, you and your kin by blood or the laws of man shall remain free of reprisal from the demon known as Algaliarept and his agents in this world or the ever-after from now until the two worlds collide."

I tried to find enough spit to swallow, failing. I never would have thought of that.

"No," Al said firmly. "That's three things to my one, and I'll not lose my hold on the likes of her completely. I want a way to recoup my loss. And if she crosses the lines, I don't care what agreement we have, she's mine."

"Can we force him?" I said softly. "I mean, we do have him over a barrel?"

Al chuckled. "I could call Newt in to arbitrate if you like...."

Ceri went pale. "No." Taking a steadying breath, she looked at me, her confidence cracked but not shattered. "What of the three can you bear to keep?"

I thought of my mother and my brother Robbie. Nick. "I want him to break the familiar bonds," I said, "and I want him to leave me and my kin by blood or law alone. I'll keep the demon mark and settle up later."

Algaliarept brought his foot up and propped his ankle atop a bent knee. "Clever, clever witch," he agreed. "If she breaks her word, she forfeits her soul."

Ceri's eyes went serious. "Rachel, if you teach anyone how to hold line energy, your soul belongs to Algaliarept. He can pull you into the ever-after at his will and you are his. Do you understand?"

I nodded, believing for the first time that I might see the sunrise again. "What happens if he breaks his word?"

"If he harms you or your kin - by his own volition - Newt will put Algaliarept in a bottle and you have a genie. It's standard boilerplate, but I'm glad you asked."

My eyes widened. I looked from Al to her. "No shit?"

She smiled at me, her hair floating as she tucked it behind an ear. "No shit."

Al harrumphed, and we jerked our attentions back to him. "What about you?" he said, clearly annoyed. "What do you want for keeping your mouth shut?"

The satisfaction of getting something back from her former captor and tormentor was in Ceri's eyes. "You will take back the stain on my soul that I took in your stead, and you will not seek reprisal against me or my kin in body or law from now until the two worlds collide."

"I'm not taking back a thousand years of curse imbalance," Al said indignantly. "That's why you were my damn familiar." He put both feet on the floor and leaned forward. "But I won't have it said I'm not agreeable. You keep the smut, but I'll let you teach one person how to hold line energy." A smile, contriving and satisfied, filled his unholy eyes. "One child. A girl child. Your daughter. And if she tells anyone, her soul is forfeit to me. Immediately."

Ceri paled, and I didn't understand. "She can tell one of her daughters, and so on," she countered, and Al smiled.

"Done." He stood. The glow of ever-after energy hovered about him like a shadow. Lacing his fingers together, he cracked his knuckles. "Oh, this is grand. This is good."

I looked at Ceri in wonder. "I thought he'd be upset," I said softly.

She shook her head, clearly worried. "He still has a hold on you. And he's counting on one of my kin to forget the seriousness of the arrangement and make a mistake."

"The familiar bonds," I insisted, glancing at the dark window. "He breaks them now?"

"The time of dissolution was never stated," Al said. He was touching the things he had brought into my kitchen, making them disappear in a smear of ever-after.

Ceri drew herself up. "It was tacitly implied. Break your hold, Algaliarept."

He looked over his glasses at her, smiling when he put a hand before and behind him and made a mocking bow. "It is a small thing, Ceridwen Merriam Dulciate. But you can't think less of me for trying."

Humming, he adjusted his frock. A bowl cluttered with bottles and silver implements appeared on the island counter. There was a book atop it all, small with a handwritten title, the script elegant and looping. "Why is he so happy?" I whispered.

Ceri shook her head, the tips of her hair moving after her head stopped. "I've only seen him like this when he discovers a secret. I'm sorry, Rachel. You know something that makes him very happy."

Swell.

Holding the book at reading height, he rifled through it, a scholarly air about him. "I can break a familiar bond as easy as snapping your neck. You, though, will have to do it the hard way; I'm not going to waste a stored curse on you. And since I'll not have you knowing how to break familiar bonds, we will add a little something.... Here it is. Lilac wine. Itstarts with lilac wine." His eyes met mine over the book. "For you."

A flash of cold went through me as he beckoned me out of the circle, a small, smoky purple bottle appearing behind his long fingers.

I took a quick breath. "You'll break the bonds and leave?" I said. "Nothing extra?"

"Rachel Mariana Morgan," he admonished. "Do you think so little of me?"

I glanced at Ceri, and she nodded for me to go. Trusting her, not Al, I stepped forward. She broke the circle as I did, setting it in place immediately behind me.

He uncorked the bottle, pouring out a glimmering drop of amethyst into a tiny cut crystal cup the size of my thumb. Putting a gloved finger to his thin lips, he extending it. Grimacing, I took it. My heart pounded. I had no choice.

Coming close with an eagerness I didn't trust, he showed me the open book. It was in Latin, and he pointed at a handwritten set of instructions. "See this word?" he said.

I took a breath. "Umb - "

"Not yet!" Al shouted, making me start, heart pounding. "Not until the wine coats your tongue, stupid. My god, you think you'd never twisted a curse before!"

"I'm not a ley line witch!" I exclaimed, my voice harsher than it probably should be.

Al's eyebrows rose. "You could be." His eyes went to the glass in my grip. "Drink it."

I glanced at Ceri. At her encouragement, I let the tiny amount pass my lips. It was sweet, making my tongue tingle. I could feel it seeping into me, relaxing my muscles. Al tapped the book, and I looked down. "Umbra," I said, holding the drop on my tongue.

The wild sweetness went sour. "Auck," I said, leaning forward to spit it out.

"Swallow..." Al warned softly, and I started when he clamped a hand under my chin and tilted my head back so I couldn't open my mouth.

Eyes tearing, I swallowed. My pounding heart echoed in my ears. Al leaned closer, his eyes going black as he loosened his grip on me and my head drooped. My muscles went loose and watery, and when he let go of me, I fell to the floor.

He didn't even try to catch me, and I landed in a pained crumple. My head hit the floor and I took a quick breath. Closing my eyes, I gathered myself, wedging my palms under me and sitting up. "Thanks a hell of a lot for the warning," I said angrily, looking up and not finding him.

Confused, I stood to find Ceri sitting at the table with her head in her hands and her bare feet tucked under her. The fluorescent light was off, and a single white candle sent a soft glow into the gloom of a cloudy dawn. I stared at the window. The sun was up? I must have passed out. "Where is he?" I breathed, blanching when I saw it was almost eight.

She pulled her head up, shocking me with how weary she seemed. "You don't remember?"

My stomach rumbled, and there was an uneasy lightness to it. "No. He's gone?"

She turned to face me squarely. "He took back his aura. You took back yours. You broke the bond with him. You cried and called him a son of a bitch and told him to leave. He did - after he struck you so hard you lost consciousness."

I felt my jaw, then the back of my head. It felt about the same: really, really bad. I was damp and cold, and I got up, clasping my arms around me. "Okay." I felt my ribs, deciding nothing was broken. "Anything else I ought to know?"

"You drank an entire carafe of coffee in about twenty minutes."

That might explain the shakes. It had to be that. Outsmarting demons was becoming old hat. I sat beside Ceri, exhaling in a long breath. Ivy would be home soon. "You like lasagna?"

A smile blossomed over her. "Oh, yes, please."