Al’s eyes went from green to their usual red, goat-slitted ugliness. “I’m right and you’re admitting it?” he said, his tone lightening. His hand opened, and I fell, yelping. The scent of musty carpet puffed up, and I looked around the sunset-gloomed air. Loveland Castle?

I got up and looked at Brooke, taking in her bloodied lip, wild hair, white face, and grim determination. It seemed like we were at a stalemate. “Loveland Castle?” I questioned her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You are on thin ice, student,” Al interrupted, his accent perfect, proper highbrow English coming from my body.

Brushing myself off, I sidled next to him. “Good thing I know how to skate. You mind not looking like me?” I knew I should be scared, but hell, I’d jumped a line to be here.

Al smirked at my sour attitude, and a sheet of ever-after coated him. He gained bulk, height, and a ruddy complexion. “Being you got me out very quickly,” he said, again himself as he tugged his lace straight. “It’s amazing how your pretty face opens doors.”

“I bet.”

Another drop in the line brought both Al’s and my attention up, and we were trapped as Brooke’s circle rose again. “I have you!” Brooke exclaimed. “You’re mine! I did it!”

Sighing, I shook my head in disbelief as Al grumbled. This was not my day.

Bis dropped through the circle holding us, his red eyes whirling and the white tuft of fur on the end of his tail bristling. Wings beating to make my hair fly, he landed on my shoulder. Cincinnati’s lines exploded in my mind, and my knees buckled as I reached for Al.

The gargoyle hissed as Al pulled me up. “Make a circle around your thoughts,” he muttered so only Bis and I could hear. “You look like a drunk like that.”

It wasn’t hard, and immediately the humming between my ears stopped, and I stood under my own power. “Thank you,” I whispered, trying to get a finger between Bis’s tail and my neck. The kid was scared to death. He had abandoned me in the lines after I’d fried myself. It wasn’t his fault, but I’d be surprised if he left me now even if I told him to go.

Brooke was almost hopping in delight, but Vivian looked ill. “Brooke,” the youngest coven member said, “there are two of them in there.”

“I know!” she said in delight. “We circled them both!”

“You circled them,” Vivian said. “Not me. This is against the coven. One of them is a demon.”

“The hell with it!” Brooke said, her delight tarnishing. “They’re all shortsighted hacks.”

“I didn’t agree to this!” Vivian protested, backing up. “You summoned a demon, not Rachel Morgan! Did you stop to think about what that makes you?”