“I found them!” Newt shouted. “You know why I’m here! Tell me why am I over here!”

I jumped when Ceri gripped my arm. Shouting in rage, Newt swung her staff at him. Minias’s fingers danced in the air as if babbling in sign language, forming a ley line spell. I felt a huge drop as someone pulled on the line out back, and with a surprising shout, Minias ended his spell by popping the lid to a vial he’d taken from Newt and flinging it at her.

Newt cried out in dismay as the sparkles hung in the air, her anger, frustration, and pain shocking in their depth. And then the potion hit her, and her face went blank.

Sliding to a stop, she blinked, glancing over the empty sanctuary with no recognition in her gaze as it landed on Ceri and me. She saw Minias, then threw her staff to the floor as if it were a snake. It hit with a clatter and bounced. Outside, past the stained-glass windows, the robins were singing in the predawn haze, but in here it was as if the air were dead.

“Minias?” she said, her tone confused and dismayed.

“It’s done,” he said gently. He came forward, scooping up her staff and handing it to her.

“Did I hurt you?” Her voice was worried, and when Minias shook his head, relief spilled over her, quickly turning to depression.

I felt sick.

“Take me home,” the demon said, glancing at me. “My head hurts.”

“Wait for me.” Minias’s gaze flicked to mine, then returned to her. “We’ll go together.”

Ceri held her breath as the demon approached us, his face down and wide shoulders hunched. I thought briefly about reinstating the circle but didn’t. Minias stopped before me, too close for comfort. His tired eyes took in my nightclothes, Ceri’s blood staining my hands, and the three circles that had nearly failed to stop Newt. His gaze rose to encompass the interior of the sanctuary, with my desk, Ivy’s piano, and the stark emptiness between them. “You were the one who stole Ceri from her demon?” he asked, surprising me.

I wanted to explain that it had been a rescue, not stealing her, but I just nodded.

His head moved up and down once, mocking me, and I fixed on his eyes. The red was so dark that they looked brown, and the characteristic demonic sideways pupil gave me pause.

“Your blood kindled the curse,” he said, his red, goat-slitted eyes darting to the blood circle beside me. “She told me about shoving you through the lines last winter.” His eyes traveled over me, evaluating. “No wonder Al is interested in you. Do you have anything that might have attracted her?”

“Other than the favor I owe her?” I said, my voice shaking. “I don’t think so.”