“Pierce . . .” I started, my hand on the table so alike but not the same as the one Ivy had. Perhaps I should have tried harder to get him back on the reality side of the lines.

“It’s who I am,” he said solemnly, taking my hand and making me look at him. “I think she enjoys my trying to kill her.” He winced, looking worried. “You’re on her mind. Be careful. That’s not a healthy place to be.”

“That’s why I’m here,” I said, pulling away. “She’s out, right?”

“Oh, aye, she’s out on the surface. The ever-after is shrinking, and she’s trying to talk to sleeping gargoyles.” He leaned back, arms over his chest. We could almost be in my kitchen, if you didn’t look close. “There’s talk of killing you. Ku’Sox is petitioning for it in soft whispers.” He pushed forward, eyes eager. “We can kill him, you and I. Rachel, is that why you’re here? It is, isn’t it! Why else would you risk it, especially now!”

“No. Pierce, I can’t kill Ku’Sox.”

He turned away, opening cupboards to show tools and instruments my kitchen had never had. “Not alone, certainly,” he said confidently. “With my help, it’s possible. Let me gather my things, and we will be away, that monster dead in five minutes.”

Distressed, I felt the rings in my pocket. “Not even with your help,” I said, and he glanced up from a drawer, frowning. I remembered that frown, and I stifled a surge of tired anger. “Pierce, I’ve fought him before, and he’s too strong. Too fast. I’m not that good.”

“Mmm,” he grumbled, then shocked me when he opened the gas oven and pulled out a heavy lockbox. “I have a curse I was going to inflict on her next time I found her sleeping.”

The box hit the floor with a thud, and I jumped. He wasn’t listening. “Pierce.”

“Here is the wicked thing!” he said, having opened it up. “That’s a demon killer if I ever saw one!”

“Pierce, stop.” He had stood, and I took his hands, folding them about whatever ley line charm he’d made. Eye to eye, he squinted at me in mistrust, and I slowly let go. “I’m not going to confront Ku’Sox in a test of magic. I’m not afraid of him,” I said when Pierce took a breath to protest, “but everyone else is and I know my limits.”

“Rachel . . .”

“I know my limits,” I said again, silent until he brought his sour expression back to me. “I don’t have to kill him, just prove that he’s the one who unbalanced my line.”