“I’m a white witch, Nick,” I said tartly, my words harsher at the reminder of what I’d done to myself. “I didn’t make a deal with anyone. I twisted the curse myself.” Well, Ceri twisted it, actually, but pointing that out didn’t seem prudent.

“But you can’t!” he protested. “It’s demon magic.”

Ivy tunked the brakes, and I caught my balance when the van stopped quick at a new yellow light. Behind us, Jenks blew the car’s horn, which Ivy ignored. “Are you calling her a liar?” she said, turning in her seat to look at Nick squarely.

His long face reddened, his newly shaved cheeks a shade paler. “I’m not calling her anything, but the only place you can get a working demon charm is from a demon.”

Ivy laughed. It was ugly, and I didn’t like it. “You don’t know shit, Nick.”

“Stop it, both of you!” I exclaimed. “God, you’re like two kids fighting over a frog.”

Angry, I retreated to sit on the cot, leaving two silent, sullen people in the front. The soft clinks of the toll money slipping through Nick’s fingers were loud. As we crept forward in the slow line, I forced myself to be calm. Most likely Nick was right that I wouldn’t suddenly find myself dying from a childhood disease again, but it was still a worry.

“Look there,” he said suddenly, his voice thick with warning. “Ray-ray, stay down.”

Immediately I crowded to the front to earn Ivy’s huff of impatience. Before us spread the bridge, its glory marred by construction crews. We were nearly on it, and the guy holding the Slow sign was watching everyone far too intently. I could tell from three cars away that he was a Were, a Celtic knot tattoo encompassing his entire right shoulder.

“Damn it,” Ivy muttered, her jaw clenching. “I see him. Rachel, hold on.”

I braced myself when Ivy flicked the turn signal and pulled a right to get out of the bridge traffic at the last moment. Peering out the dirty square of a window in the back, I saw Jenks following. Jax and Rex were scampering about on the dash, and I don’t know how Jenks managed to keep the car on the road.

The van rocked as it found its new momentum, and I felt ill. “Now what?” I said, finding Jenks’s old flip-flops and putting them on.

Ivy sighed. Her grip on the wheel tightened and relaxed. Glancing into the rearview mirror, her eyes met mine. Nick’s truck would have to wait. I listened to the traffic and Nick’s frightened breathing. I could almost hear his heart, see it pulse in his neck as he fought the fear of his entire week of torture.

“I’m hungry,” Ivy abruptly said. “Anyone want a pizza?”

Nineteen

Eyes on the rearview mirror, Ivy eased the van to a halt in the restaurant lot in the shade between two semis. The sound of traffic was loud through her window, and I couldn’t help but be impressed at being so well hidden this close to the main road. Shifting the gearshift into park, she undid her seat belt and turned. “Rachel, there’s a box under the floorboard. Will you get it for me?”