“Lee…?” I stammered, not believing it. A rush of guilt swept me. Though I had tried to prevent it, I had been there when Al took Lee as his familiar instead of me. That he had escaped was impossible, but here he was, angling his trim surfer-boy body out of the car with an unconscious grace. His small nose and thin lips gave him casual good looks, and his Asian heritage was obvious in the straight, severely black hair cut short above his ears. Looking confident and cocky in a faintly frumpy black suit, he strode forward with hands outstretched.

“It’s not Lee,” Jenks said, having moved himself to my shoulder. “He doesn’t smell right, and that’s not a witch’s aura. Rache, that isn’t Lee!”

Shock became mistrust. “Stay back!” I said, jerking Trent behind me when he moved.

He stumbled, then caught his balance. Scowling, he tugged his shirt straight. “The sun is up, Morgan. I know a few rules about demons, and that one you can’t break. Lee escaped. What did you expect? He’s an expert at ley line magic. Deal with the jealousy.”

“Jealous!” I barked, not believing this. “You want to bet your life on it?” Lee was still coming forward, and, putting out a hand, I shouted, “Stop right there! I’m telling you to stop!”

Lee obediently halted ten feet away, his black hair gleaming in the light. He drew a pair of round sunglasses from a pocket and perched them on his small nose, hiding his brown eyes. Hands spread wide in innocence wronged, he almost bowed. “Good afternoon, Rachel Mariana Morgan. You look eminently ravishable with the sun in your hair, love.”

The blood drained from my face, and I took a faltering step backward. It wasn’t Lee. It was Al. The voice had been Lee’s, but the cadence and pronunciation were Algaliarept’s. How?

“Holy crap! It’s Al!” Jenks squeaked, and his grip on my ear tightened.

“Get him in the church,” I hissed at Quen. Feeling betrayed, I almost panicked. The sun was up! This wasn’t fair! There was scuffling behind me and Trent’s indignant complaint. Damn it, I thought. This isn’t a committee decision. “Get him out of here!” I yelled.

Al’s smile widened. He stepped toward us.

There wasn’t time. I lunged forward, my forearms hitting the pavement, my fingers brushing the white marking of the basketball court, and my toes taking the rest of my body weight. “Rhombus!” I shouted. Tears sprang up at the gravel cutting the soft part of my arms, but with a welcoming drop of power through me, the amber wash of ever-after flowed up from the earth, arching to a close over our heads.