Al threw his head back and laughed, showing his thick, flat teeth to the cloudy sky. “She is mine. You’re looking well. Care to come back? You could be sisters. How nice is that?”

Her mouth twitched. “She has a soul. You can’t force her.”

Panting, I hung from where Al held me. If he got me into a line, whether I had a soul or not wouldn’t matter. “Yes, I can,” Al said, cementing it into fact. His brow furrowed, and he jerked his attention to David. I had seen him circling us in a wide path, trying to make a physical circle with his footsteps with which he could bind Al. The demon’s eyes narrowed. “Detrudo,” he said, gesturing.

I gasped, jerking as a thread of ever-after flowed from me to work Al’s charm. Head erect, I choked back whatever awful sound was going to come out of my raw throat. I managed to keep silent as it raced from me, but all my efforts to stay quiet did no good when a wave of ever-after surged in from a line to replace what Al had used. Again fire immolated my center, overflowing and making my skin burn, finally settling in my thoughts. I couldn’t think. There was nothing but hurt in me. I was burning. My very thoughts, my soul, were burning.

Shocked, I fell to my knees, the pain from the icy sidewalk going almost unnoticed as a cry of misery escaped me. My eyes were open, and Ceri cringed, standing barefoot before us in the snow. A shared pain was mirrored in her eyes, and I fastened on them, finding peace in their green depths. She had survived this. I could survive this. I would survive this. God, help me find a way to survive this.

Al laughed as he felt my resolve. “Good,” he encouraged. “I appreciate your effort to be silent. You’ll get there. Your god can’t help you, but call for him anyway. I’d like to meet him.”

I took a shuddering breath. David was a shaking puddle of silky fur in the snow some distance from where he had been. I was screaming when the spell hit him and didn’t see him knocked aside. Ceri went to him when he rose, grasping his muzzle in both hands and peering into his eyes. She looked dwarfed beside him, his absolute blackness looking dangerous and somehow right beside her frailty, dressed in flowing white. “Give this to me,” she whispered as she gazed unafraid into his eyes, and David’s ears pricked.

Dropping his face, she paced forward until she was standing where David’s footprints left off. Keasley joined her, buttoning his thick fabric coat as he moved from my right to halt beside her. He took her hand, murmuring, “It’s yours,” before letting go, and they both stepped back.