“This isn’t your home,” Al said, pulling out a volume and laying it open across one thick hand. “Nothing smells like you.” He gave me a questioning look over his round smoked glasses and snapped the book closed. Sliding it away, he reached over his head, not even looking where his hands were going as he found that ley-line knife resting out of his eyesight.

“Shiny!” the demon said, his lips parting to show his blocky teeth. “I haven’t seen this since I stuck it in Amenhotep.” The demon’s eyes flicked to mine, his smile widening. “This is Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos’s room,” he said, and my breath caught. “Delightful, just delightful! What are you doing in Nicky’s room, Rachel? Ooooh, he summoned you to the West Coast, didn’t he? Did you kill him? Good for you for taking care of that little problem! I should give you a bunny. Where is he? Stuffed in a closet?”

Pierce shut the cupboard door hard, and I jumped. “She should have killed him, but she doesn’t listen to me,” he muttered, and I gave him a dark look.

“Al, why are you here if it’s not to give my name back?” I asked, and the demon sighed, breathing deeply of the knife’s blade.

“It’s after sundown. I’m assessing whether your worry is valid.” Eyes closing in bliss, Al ran his tongue up the length of the blade, a soft sound escaping him as he licked the knife clean of nothing I could see. “I’m going to rub the little wizard’s head from his skinny shoulders for summoning you. I’m the only one allowed to pull you about.” He put the knife away, fingers reluctantly slipping from it. “Not that I ever have …”

“No, you just keep crashing my life. Look—” I said, and Al grunted.

“Here it comes,” the demon muttered. “Listen. Listen to this, runt. She’s going to have a list.” And Pierce shrugged, carefully filling the pot with fresh water.

“Hey!” I snapped, not liking either of their attitudes. “If you’re not going to make good on our deal, then you need to leave. And if you leave, you might better spend some time finding a good lawyer for breach of contract! I know people, you know.”

“No need to get nasty,” Al said, pouting. “With this nonsense about being summoned, I felt you slipping into a line and came to check. Apparently you’ve exaggerated your trouble.”

“Excuse me?” I stood where I was, hands on my hips. “I’m not exaggerating anything. I was in Alcatraz. I want my name back. No one knows mine but my mom, Ivy, and Jenks!”

“And me.” Al ran his finger across the front of the big-screen TV, harrumphing at the dust. “You should just scare the hell out of them. Consider this your chance to practice.”