She hadn’t said Pierce, which meant she didn’t like him or she really thought our conversation wasn’t private. Sharp’s digs had to be Eden Park’s Twin Lakes Bridge, and I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me. “No,” I said, glancing at Pierce. “I’m fine, and I need you where I can fall back on you. Okay? And tell Jenks I’m sorry.”

She was silent, and my eyes fell from Pierce. I could do worse than be on the run with a black-magic practitioner on loan from a demon. Rachel, you really can pick them. “Um, if I don’t call about three hours after sunset, will you call me?” I meant summon, and she knew it.

“How?” Ivy said, worry thick in her gray-silk voice. “I don’t know how to do a summons. You want me to storm Trent’s compound for Ceri or search the city for Keasley?”

“Don’t do that,” I said quickly. Keasley had vanished shortly after I’d found out who he was, and I didn’t want to blow his cover. Going to Ceri would only give Trent the chance to wave his offer at me again, and I might be desperate enough to take it. Son-of-a-bitch elf. I didn’t know any black witches who were still alive and out of jail. Except Lee, currently running Cincy’s gambling cartel. I’d bet Pierce knew how to summon a demon, though.

My eyes shifted to his, and he reached for my free hand, cradling my bruised skin as if afraid to hurt me. “I won’t allow them to take you again, but if they do, I’ll follow you through hell. And if you should slip my grasp, I will summon you home.”

Depressed, I pulled my hand from Pierce. A faint tingling seemed to slide from me, stretching between us until it broke with a snap that backlashed to warm me. I shivered even as I stared at him. It hadn’t been our chis naturally balancing out. It had been something else.

“Rachel, what do you want me to do?” Ivy asked, interrupting my thoughts.

Uneasy, my thoughts went to Ralph, sitting in the Alcatraz dining hall, showing me his lobotomy scar. From there, they went to my mom, two thousand miles away, but a mere jump from San Francisco. “If I’m in trouble, call my mom, okay?” I said, jaw clenching. “Tell her Al’s summoning name. Tell her to be careful because it might be Al who shows up, not me.”

“Rachel.”

Her voice was worried, and the coffee churned in my gut. “I know,” I whispered. “This feels wrong.”

Her sigh was soft. “Take it slow. Be smart.”

“You, too.” Unable to bring myself to say good-bye, I hung up. Five minutes, eighteen seconds, I thought as I looked at the tiny screen. How could my life shift so much so fast?