My face blanched when he stood and turned. If he was calling me love, I was still in trouble. Brooke could wait. “I didn’t give Pierce my gun,” I said, moving to put one of those tall wing-back chairs between us. “It’s not my fault you didn’t search him. I forgot he had it.”

Looking totally different without his coat, glasses, and gloves, Al rummaged in a basket beside the hearth. “Make yourself at home. You and your gargoyle, Bis. Would you like something to eat?” His eyes met mine and I stifled a shiver. “I’ll make cake.”

I didn’t trust this at all. His show of congeniality was more disturbing than if he were howling at me. But if I sat down, I might be able to get Bis off my shoulder.

Watching him, I went to sit. I didn’t want to get smacked by sitting in his chair, but they both looked alike. The fireplace was to my right, and the dim library spilling out and down to my left. “You okay, Bis?” I said, hoping he’d move, but the kid was terrified and only nodded.

“No cake?” Al murmured with forced idleness—scaring the crap out of me. I’d gone to him for help, but now …

“I can’t say how pleased I am that you’re accepting your place,” he said as he filled a kettle from a pitcher and set it over the fire. Coming close, he seated himself on the adjacent couch facing the fire, his knee almost touching mine and his burnt amber scent pinching my nose. “First a new vanity curse to hide your bite, and now asking for a curse when an earth charm exists. Bravo.”

I put a hand to my neck, glad that he couldn’t see my hairy legs.

“Don’t hide it,” he said, ignoring Bis’s hissing as he took my hand and pulled it to him. “Your skin is beautiful. None of those lowbrow vampire marks anymore. You’re worth more than vampire teeth, itchy witch.”

Worry tightened my gut even as I nudged Bis to be quiet or get off my shoulder. “I can’t invoke a locator charm made from earth magic,” I said, remembering last winter when I’d stirred a batch to find a banshee, only to learn that my blood wouldn’t invoke it. Marshal had done it. Seemed the more complex the magic, the more the subtle difference in my blood mattered.

“Neither can I,” Al admitted lightly. “Welcome to the club.”

“I’m not a witch,” I admitted, scooting into the cushions to get some space between us.

“You’re not really a demon either.” Al’s eyebrows rose.

Forcing my jaw to unclench, I blurted out, “I didn’t give Pierce my gun. He took it when I was hopped up on that drug. I thought he had it to keep you from taking Lee or Ivy.”