I sneezed again as the cool weight of the scrying mirror sank into me. Tell Al about Alcatraz to get my name back and risk being yanked to the ever-after forever, or stay silent and risk the coven summoning me again and giving me a lobotomy No contest. Pierce might know his magic, but I knew Al, and Al wouldn’t tell Newt anything.

The onetime ghost sent his eyebrows high when I simpered at him, clearly not knowing where my thoughts lay. Feeling better, I looked at the elaborate glyph reflecting the world back to me with the rich hue of wine. The symbols I’d etched on it glittered like blood diamonds. Much as I hated to admit it, the thing was beautiful. It let me talk to demons, and I thought it was beautiful. I am so screwed.

Resigned, I reached out a thought and touched it to the small ley line that ran through the churchyard. I kept my attention narrow, allowing only the barest slip of energy into me, not wanting Al to get more than a hint of my emotions. The connection completed, I focused on Al, shivering when his domineering, alien presence seemed to melt into me, expanding both our awarenesses in a curious feeling of lofty enlightenment. I couldn’t read his mind, and he couldn’t see into mine, but focused thoughts could be exchanged. That, and emotion.

“Why is Pierce here?” I said aloud so that Ivy could hear at least half the conversation.

Not my idea, Al started, and I could almost see his white-gloved hands clench into fists. That’s why I called. That little runt of a witch is dangerous. He manipulated Newt like a damned demon suitor. It was either send him or give you to her. Which would you prefer?

It had been mocking, and taken aback, I glanced at the ring of faces watching me. That Al wasn’t happy either somehow made me feel better. “So take him back. I won’t tell,” I said, and Al snorted even as Pierce huffed indignantly.

Maybe if you could go one week without becoming shunned or put under a death threat you might be considered smart enough to be on your own, the demon muttered. But no-o-o-o-o, you had to try it on your own. I told you to wait.

“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?