Black Magic Sanction

“Let her kill him,” Jenks was saying over the sound of his kids. “We’ve got the graveyard right out back. Humans are like Jell-O. There’s always room for one more.”

“I didn’t have to come here,” Nick gasped, and Ivy tightened her grip until he gagged. “The coven didn’t give me a choice! They yanked me across state lines and threatened to give me to the FIB. I had to tell them something. They were going to put me away!”

“Better me than you, huh?” I leaned heavily on the table, tired.

“I knew you’d escape,” Nick said, spittle at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve got a foolproof get-out-of-jail-free card. Rachel, you took a demon’s name? Why?”

My breath caught at the accusation in his rasping voice, and my anger dulled to shame. I had a demon’s name. He’d used it twice to summon me. “Let him go.”

Jenks spun in the air to me. “Rache …”

“Let him go!” I exclaimed, and Ivy took her fingers from around Nick’s throat. The man fell into a tangle against the fridge, hand over his neck and coughing. Head down, he mumbled to Jax, hovering by his face, his words indistinct. The imprint of Ivy’s fingers showed red and clear. Ivy turned away, shaking as she worked to bring herself down. Great. This was exactly what I needed. A jacked-up, hungry vampire and a traitorous ex-boyfriend in the same room.

Jenks wasn’t happy, and with an earsplitting whistle, he chased his family out—all but a defiant Jax and a heartbroken Matalina, now perched on the fridge. Her face was riven with tears. Jax’s homecoming had turned ugly.

Moving with that vampiric smoothness that gave me the willies, Ivy yanked my charm cupboard open and plucked an invoked amulet from my cache. Her eyes were still dangerously black as she strode across the kitchen and extended it. My shoulders eased as the smooth disk of redwood met my fingers. It was one of my own, and the relief from the pain was a blessing.

I’d been an earth witch long before I started dabbling in ley-line magic, and though the amulet didn’t completely block the pain, it helped. Dropping the cord around my neck, I snugged the disk under the orange jumpsuit where it could touch my skin. A puff of nasty air came up and I winced. Jenks wasn’t kidding. I needed a shower. “Thanks,” I said, and Ivy nodded, still trying to gain control over her instincts. Me being stinky probably helped.

“I had to give them something,” Nick said loudly as he pulled himself off the floor, his long pianist’s—no, thief’s—hands on his throat and his voice rough. “I’m sorry for summoning you to San Francisco, and I left so they wouldn’t force me to do it again. I risked airport security to get here in time to summon you home, if that means anything to you.”

“Yeah? You kept their money, I bet,” I said bitingly, and his eyes narrowed.

“I have to eat.” Shame, perhaps, made his voice harsh, but I doubted it. “Besides, I didn’t think it would be you who showed up that first time. I thought it would be Al and that he would tear them and me apart. End everything.”

His words hit me hard, and I looked away, sinking back down into my chair.

“You took Al’s name? Rachel, why?” he asked, his voice holding an unexpected hurt. “I thought you were smarter than that. I thought you were the good one.”

I couldn’t look up, unable to speak. I was the good one. Wasn’t I?

“Get him out of here,” Jenks said loudly. “Both of them.”

Jax’s wings clattered, and Matalina protested, but a pop of displaced air in the hallway struck me like a slap. Al? I thought with a pulse of fear-based adrenaline as I looked. But it wasn’t Al. It was Pierce and Bis. Duh. The sun was up.

The witch caught his balance, lurching to snag his hat as it fell off. “We’re back!” Bis shouted, whirling, eyes wide as he landed beside Matalina on the fridge, making her crouch at the sudden wind. He was too big to fly in the house, and as soon as his feet touched the appliance, his wings folded and his eyes blinked shut, the teenage gargoyle going somnolent in the sudden light. As an adult, he’d be able to stay awake during the daylight hours, but as it was, he fell asleep in an instant. Probably just as well. The next few minutes were going to be ugly.

“Who the hell are you?” Nick rasped, ignored.

Sometime between my truncated lesson and now, Pierce had found a trendy pair of black pants and a maroon shirt. His new, colorfully patterned vest looked like it could be the upholstery of an antique chair, but somehow it worked. Everything fit him perfectly, right down to the gold fob running to a hidden pocket watch, and I wondered if the appearance-conscious demon had sent him like this or if Pierce had learned to dress himself.

Pierce watched me from under his wavy black bangs, trying to guess my mood as his shoes scuffed on a stray bit of salt. His eyes were fixed on mine, and I felt a ping of something, which I quickly squashed. I didn’t have time for a relationship, and not with a self-oriented, black-magic-using, intelligent … demon killer wannabe who thought I needed babysitting.

“Rachel,” Pierce said, shoes grinding on the salt as he came forward after a nod to Ivy and Jenks, and a flash of anger at Nick. His smoothly shaven face was creased with worry, and when he took my hands, I pulled away. Had they really made Al send him to watch me?

“Is she all together? Is she all right?” he asked Ivy, unsure at my reaction.

Ivy nodded, her eyes edging toward normal, standing with her arms across her middle as if holding back her instincts. “As much as she ever is,” she said sourly.

“I’m of the mind that she’s not.” Pierce tried again for my hands, keeping them this time. “I’ve a powerful notion to fix their flint. Did they … Rachel, your wrists,” he said, aghast as he turned them over. “They shackled you?” he asked, voice shaking in outrage.

I took a breath, but my harsh words hesitated. He’d crossed a continent to find me. Resolute, I shoved the feeling away. “Al sent you?” I asked, and he knelt to put us on eye level. “Pierce, tell me this is a joke and that Al is going to show up come sundown and drag you back.”

Pierce smiled, gaze flicking to Ivy and Jenks. “Newt told the collective that Al nearly let you kill yourself, and that I kept you alive until she could save you.”

“Newt?” Jenks shrilled, coming close. “You didn’t say anything about Newt!”

“You?” I echoed, and Nick scowled. “You’re the one who got me in trouble!”

Pierce, though, was still grinning. “The way she remembers it, I saved you. She made an almighty wrath, convincing them that you’re too accident-prone to survive without supervision.”

“I could have told them that,” Jenks smart-mouthed, and Ivy waved at him to be quiet.

“Since Al can’t abide here come sunup,” Pierce continued, “it was either send me or give you to Newt.”

“I thought you said you were the only familiar cheap enough that Al could afford,” Jenks chimed in, and Pierce’s lips twitched in the beginnings of a frown. Ivy, too, didn’t look pleased.

“Nice,” I said, yanking my hands from his. “You get yourself out of the ever-after, but I’m the one who looks like an idiot. Thanks a hell of a lot.”

But instead of reacting in kind, Pierce’s entire demeanor shifted to one of concern. “You’re shivering,” he said, glancing at Nick as if it was his fault. “A body would suspect someone would have drawn you a warm bath by now.”

Suddenly I felt a hundred times filthier, but then my eyes widened at my sudden urge to sneeze. Shit, not again, I thought when it ripped through me to clear out my lungs and send a stab of pain through my knees. But it was different. There was no accompanying pull. It was just Al trying to contact me, and I looked at Pierce sourly. Al had sent Pierce to watch me, eh? Yeah. We’d just see about that.

“Tink’s a Disney whore!” Jenks swore, darting down to the center counter and the open bookshelf under it. “Ivy, quick! Get her calling mirror out. It’s Al.”

“Rachel, no!” Nick exclaimed, eyes wide as he realized what was going on.

Jenks flew up, his sword bared to make Jax dart back. “Shut the hell up!” he shouted in frustration. “Open your mouth again, and I’ll jam a spider’s nest in your ear so they can eat that crap you have for brains! You don’t know shit. You don’t know shit!”

“Al will kill you, Rachel!” Nick insisted as Ivy silently moved to get the mirror.

“It’s a little late to be afraid of Al, Nick,” I muttered when Ivy slid the smooth, plate-size scrying mirror onto my lap and backed up, wiping her fingers nervously on her pants. She didn’t like my magic—didn’t understand it—even as she respected it. My knees hurt under the mirror’s weight, even with the pain amulet. “What they didn’t say was that I am his student,” I said bitterly as I put my hand on the mirror in the cave of the pentagram. “I’m not saying I know what I’m doing, but I know who I can trust. And you’re not on the list, so shut up! I want to talk to Al. See what’s going on.” Get my summoning name back. I am not going to do this again.

I glanced at Pierce as I said the last, seeing no fear, just a confident satisfaction. I knew I should be glad he was free of Al, but it hinged on my not being able to take care of myself. Sighing, I looked at my swollen knees and my orange jumpsuit. Maybe they were right.

“I’d be of a mind not to tell Al you were in prison,” Pierce said as he leaned into the wall and crossed his arms. He was smug, and I didn’t like it.

“Why?” I said, immediately wanting to do the exact opposite. “You afraid it might make you look bad?”

Pierce shifted his weight to one foot and balanced his free foot on a toe. “If you get into too much trouble, Newt might revoke your reality privileges, me here or not.”

“Oh, and you’d love that, wouldn’t you,” Jenks exclaimed, wings humming.

I sneezed again as the cool weight of the scrying mirror sank into me. Tell Al about Alcatraz to get my name back and risk being yanked to the ever-after forever, or stay silent and risk the coven summoning me again and giving me a lobotomy No contest. Pierce might know his magic, but I knew Al, and Al wouldn’t tell Newt anything.

The onetime ghost sent his eyebrows high when I simpered at him, clearly not knowing where my thoughts lay. Feeling better, I looked at the elaborate glyph reflecting the world back to me with the rich hue of wine. The symbols I’d etched on it glittered like blood diamonds. Much as I hated to admit it, the thing was beautiful. It let me talk to demons, and I thought it was beautiful. I am so screwed.

Resigned, I reached out a thought and touched it to the small ley line that ran through the churchyard. I kept my attention narrow, allowing only the barest slip of energy into me, not wanting Al to get more than a hint of my emotions. The connection completed, I focused on Al, shivering when his domineering, alien presence seemed to melt into me, expanding both our awarenesses in a curious feeling of lofty enlightenment. I couldn’t read his mind, and he couldn’t see into mine, but focused thoughts could be exchanged. That, and emotion.