“Shut up,” I muttered. “You try channeling a demon’s ley line and see if you even survive. I bet you’d explode in a flash of pixy dust, you little twit.”

He laughed, and Ceri frowned at us as if we were children. “I’ve got it right here,” she said, and I leaned forward so she could drape the cord over my head. A blessed relief soaked in to ease my muscles—Keasley must have invoked it for me—but my headache remained, all the worse now that there was nothing to distract me from it.

“I’m sorry,” Ceri said. “It’s going to take a good day.” When I didn’t say anything, she shifted to the door, adding, “I’ll get your tea.” She walked out, a scuffing pulling my gaze up. “Excuse me,” she murmured, gazing at the floor when she almost ran into David. The Were looked tired, seeming older as he adjusted the collar of his coat. His stubble was thicker, and the thick spice of bane was heavy on him. “Would you like some tea?” she said, and my eyebrows rose as her usual confidence shifted to meek awe.

David shook his head, accepting her submissive mien with a grace that made him seem noble. Head still lowered, she edged past him and went into the kitchen. Jenks and I exchanged wondering looks as he came in and dropped his backpack. Nodding to Jenks, he pulled the kitchen chair farther away from me and sat down, leaning back with his arms crossed and eyeing me speculatively from under his cowboy hat.

“You want to tell me what that was all about before I go?” he said. “I’m starting to think there’s a good reason no one will insure you.”

I made an embarrassed face and took a cookie. “Remember that demon that testified to put Piscary behind bars?”

His eyes widened. “Son of my mother’s bitch!”

Jenks laughed, his voice tinkling like wind chimes. “Damn stupid of her if you ask me.”

Ignoring Jenks, I met David’s shocked look: part worry, part pain, part disbelief. “He came to collect his due for services rendered,” I said. “Which he got. I’m his familiar, but I still have my soul, so he can’t cart me off to the ever-after unless I let him.” I looked to the ceiling, wondering what kind of a runner I was going to be if I couldn’t tap a line after sunset without bringing demons down on me.

David made a soft whistle. “No tag is worth that.”

My eyes flicked to his. “Ordinarily I’d agree with you, but at the time, Piscary was trying to kill me and it seemed like a good idea.”

“Good idea, hell. It was damn stupid,” Jenks muttered, clearly of the belief that if he had been there, things never would have degraded that far. He might have been right.