“Bars come out of the floor,” Luther said. “They’re down now to keep him from throwing himself against the metal.”

I approached the circle. “Mitchell.”

Mitchell gave no indication he heard or smelled me.

“He won’t respond,” Luther said. “I tried.”

“I tried screaming a while ago,” the woman said. “He’s gone somewhere deep inside his head.”

I glanced at the lines of the circle. It was designed to keep magic in, not out. Hmm. I had never done it before, but it worked for my father.

I pulled my magic to me. It came eager and ready like an obedient pet. I gathered it all around me, packing it tight, and let it fuel my voice, reaching to Mitchell with my power.

“Mitchell.”

Luther startled. “Jesus, Daniels.”

The ghoul uncoiled, raising his deformed head, and rolled to his feet. I walked along the boundary of the circle. The ghoul turned slowly, moving to face me. Up close I could see smears of blood on the paint inside the circle.

“You . . .” the ghoul whispered.

“Can you sense the ifrit? Is he calling you now?”

“Yessss.”

“Do you know what you are?” I asked.

“Yessss . . .” He ducked his head, but his gaze bore into me. “I am flame. I am smokeless fire. This”—he stretched his arms to me—“is my prison. Kill me.”

I knelt on one knee. He leaned in as close as the boundary of the circle would allow. A mere three inches separated us.

“I can make you whole,” I whispered. “But there is a price.”

“I’ll pay.”

“Stop,” Nick said. “She’ll promise you the world and then she will make you her slave. She can’t help it. It’s in her blood.”

“Wait, what is this talk of whole-making?” Luther waved his arms. “What’s going on?”

Mitchell’s gaze never wavered. “I would rather be a slave than be this.”

“If I make you whole, you must help me fight the ifrit,” I told him. “Can you find him once you are whole?”

“Yes.”

“Once finished, you will make your home here, in Luther’s custody. You will serve the Biohazard Division for five years.” That ought to give them enough time to figure out what to do with him.

“Yes.”

“Swear on the fire that burns in you.”

The ghoul opened his mouth. “I swear.”

I rose, pulled the book out of my backpack, and thrust it at Luther. “I’ll need these supplies.”

He scanned the pages. “What is this?”

“We’re going to evolve Mitchell to his proper state.”

“Oh, okay. Wait, what?”

•   •   •

THE COALS HAD been lit. I finished drawing the alchemical sign for the ether and was about done with the symbols. Mitchell sat within the two triangles. Just outside the two triangles, a half-gallon beaker of clear liquid, trimethyl borate, waited on a table next to matches and a small vial of my blood. I had drawn it before we left the house.