“Just because you give a man the mitten doesn’t mean you don’t care for him,” Pierce said, and I looked up, seeing Nick’s and my words through Pierce’s eyes. A lover’s spat?

“I don’t love Nick,” I breathed, numb. “He’s a thief, and I’m attracted to danger. That’s all. The thief part I might have been able to overlook, but the lies I couldn’t.”

Pierce had knelt beside me to put his eyes even with mine. Damn me if his stubble didn’t make him look even more appealing. His concern was almost palpable, and my heart ached for having seen that same emotion in Kisten. But he wasn’t Kisten. He was different.

“You risked everything to keep him from Al,” Pierce said, his strong hands adjusting the afghan, always moving, adjusting, shifting. “If that’s not love, what is?”

When Pierce got it wrong, he really got it wrong. “Pierce. Listen to me,” I said, feeling the gun under the afghan. “I do not love Nick. But I could not stand there and let Al take him. Not for Nick’s sake, but for mine. If Al got away with snatching people once, then his word to me wouldn’t mean fairy farts.”

His eyebrows went up, and his hands wiped my tears away. “You have grit, Rachel Morgan.”

“You shouldn’t have told me anything,” I said, throat tight as I felt the gun shake in my hand. “I’m sorry I ever asked. He’s going to give you hell on Saturday. I’m sorry.”

Pierce shook his head, his lips pressed tight. “I suspicion … I think Al didn’t mind me telling you about the lines, or he would have broken my circle and rowed me up salt river directly. It’s not worth shucks.”

“He might,” I said, not wanting to see Al torment him. “He knows you were teaching me. He came because …” I hesitated, my tears stopping. “Al said he came because he felt me start to slip into a line.” My eyes rose to his. “I was doing it?” I asked. “I was tuning my aura?”

Slowly Pierce’s expression went from questioning to what might have been excitement. But then I sneezed. It was followed immediately by another.

“God bless,” Pierce said, but I turned back with my hand over my face, my brief joy shifting to fear. My gut twisted, and that hollow ache I had thought was from despair worsened. I reached out in panic when it felt like the world dropped out from under me, my hand gripping Pierce’s shoulder. It was too soon for the sun to be down in San Francisco. Is it Al?

“Pierce?” I whispered, scared to death. Someone had me. “Someone has me, Pierce!” I warbled, panic icing me. “I can’t stop this!”

I heard the bathroom door open, and the hum of pixy wings.