Pierce pulled his left hand from his pocket in a gesture for me to listen, and a knot of tension eased when I saw its smooth length instead of Al’s white gloves. “You must agree that though smelling almighty putrid it’s safe. You’d be safe there.”

I’d seen the ever-after in the daylight, and it was nasty. “Is that why you’re not hurt?” I said hotly. “You got a deal going with Al? You convince me to bag reality and go hide in the ever-after, and he doesn’t beat you to a pulp? I’m not a demon, and I don’t belong there!”

“No.” Pierce glanced at Ivy, then Jenks, before taking a step closer. “I don’t think you’re a demon.” His left hand went back into a deep pocket, and my face got cold when he brought out the blackened, paint-peeling remains of my cherry-red splat gun. “My apologies,” he said as he crossed the room and placed it in my grip. “He plum destroyed your spell pistol.”

“H-how? “I stammered, then remembered that Pierce had had it when I left. Jenks whistled long and slow, and on impulse, I pulled Pierce’s right hand out. The witch hissed in pain, and I turned it over to see the imprint of the splat gun’s handle.

“Oh my God. Pierce. What did he do to you?” I tossed the melted gun to the burnt couch, and Pierce stiffened when Ivy approached. “Jenks, get a pain amulet,” I said, and the pixy darted off. “You shot at him?” I demanded, my worry coming out as anger. “Are you crazy? I’m surprised he didn’t kill you!”

Standing resolutely before me, Pierce hid his burnt hand behind his back. “I’m sure he’d rather. I didn’t remain to give him the chance. My aim was poor, and he melted your spell caster after my second volley. You’d rather I remained for a beating?”

And now that the sun was up, Al couldn’t follow him. Ohhh, I bet he’s pissed.

Jenks dripped gold sparkles as he came back, and I took the amulet from him, draping it over Pierce’s head and catching it briefly on the brim of his hat. Immediately Pierce’s pinched expression eased, but Jenks was buzzing in alarm. “Al is going to be ma-a-a-ad,” he drawled in warning. “He’s gonna think Rachel gave you her gun.”

Making a sound of disapproval, Ivy pushed herself into motion, her grace giving me the willies as she peeked out the front door. I glanced at the melted gun on the charred cushions and silently agreed. “I can’t believe you shot at him. Come on,” I said as I took Pierce’s upper arm. “I’ve got a burn charm. It’s only for stove burns, but it will help.”