“Hey! I’m not the one trying to put Krakatoa into my soul!” I said loudly, face warm.

Not Krakatoa, Krathion. And I won’t take the blame for you prematurely invoking a curse when I told you to wait for me! he said, and I was silent, fuming. I’m trying to downplay the situation, Al thought, his emotions slowing. In the meantime, if he teaches you one thing, one thing, Rachel, you’ll be wearing his guts as hair bands. Got it?

I glanced at Pierce, and he blinked at my sudden interest. Pierce could teach me something? “Sure …,” I said, starting to see the possibilities. If I could learn how to jump the lines, no one would have to watch me at all.

Rachel? Al growled, not detecting any sincerity in my thoughts.

“Got it,” I reaffirmed, then took a deep breath. “Hey, along those lines, I need my original summoning name back. Like now.”

From my peripheral sight, Nick blinked, almost mirroring the shocked emotion I felt from Al. Now? Al thought, and I felt him start to sever the connection. You want to play in the collective when everyone is watching? Damn my dame, you do need a babysitter, Rachel. No.

“Al, wait!” I shouted, pressing my hand harder into the glass until it felt like I’d made a soft indent in the mirror. “I just spent a day in Alcatraz after being summoned into a closed trial called by the coven of moral and ethical standards.” I didn’t look up, but I heard Pierce sigh because I hadn’t listened to his advice. “They weren’t after you, they were after me,” I added.

Al laughed, and I looked past my stringy hair to Nick. He was staring at me, long face aghast. Across the kitchen, Pierce held himself still, eyes dark from behind his mop of loose curls and his hat back on his head. Jenks faced me from the counter, spilling a red dust that puddled on the floor, and Ivy stood almost in the hallway, her black eyes fully dilated.

Nice try. But no one in that pantywaist coven knows my name, Al was thinking. And if they did, they wouldn’t summon me, holier-than-thou chicken squirts. Stay out of trouble, Rachel, and this will all blow over. Two decades at the most.

Two decades! I thought, then said, “That’s what I’m saying. They didn’t summon you, they summoned me! They used your name, knowing I would be the one to show up! They paid someone to summon me into a six-pointed star. I barely got out because they thought I was bound to demon law, but that’s not going to work a second time. They know I can invoke demon magic, and they’re going to give me a lobotomy and take my ovaries as soon as they find the next chump who knows your name!”

Who summoned you? Al said suddenly, icy calm pouring from him, and I looked at Nick, my mouth shutting. Tell me who summoned you with my name. Tell me, itchy witch, and I’ll not only see that you learn how to jump the lines, but how to survive that runt of yours.