“It can’t kill me now,” Trent said, his jaw clenched. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“Trust you!” I shouted, and Ivy grabbed my arm as I went to shove him. Feeling it, Trent stopped, looking angry and unrepentant as he turned to me.

“It can’t snatch you because of me!” I exclaimed, shaking off Ivy’s hold and pushing him in the chest. Trent stumbled back, but I was moving forward, getting in his face. “You used me! I freed you as a familiar, and you used me!”

Trent became more grim looking, his gaze darting behind me as the sound of fighting pixies grew loud and the harsh cawing of the stork echoed. Ivy was at my shoulder, a hand on her hip. “The coven might be interested in that. Trent Kalamack dabbling in demonology.”

“If you tell her, then Rachel doesn’t have a chance,” he said, and I realized it was true.

“Uh, Rache?” Jenks said nervously, perched on Ivy’s shoulder. “They’re coming this way.”

“You are an idiot,” I said softly, shaking inside. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

Trent tugged his clothes straight as if he were wearing a three-piece suit and not a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans. “I suggest we leave before it finishes eating them.”

I dropped back a step, almost laughing, as disgusted as I was. Ivy was staring at him in disbelief. “I’m not going to walk away from this. It’s eating them!”

“Rachel, no!” Trent shouted, but I was beyond listening, and I leaned back as he came forward, bringing my foot up just in time for him to run right into it. He hit with a jarring that shifted me, and he fell backward holding his middle, taking Ivy with him. They sprawled on the paved footpath, and as Jenks darted to my shoulder, I turned to the bird.

“Celero inanio!” I shouted, throwing a ball of glowing ever-after at the harshly croaking stork, its ugly neck skin flapping. Yes, it was a black curse, but it was a bird eating pixies—pixies I had found a way to deal with peacefully. I was already mumbling, “I take the smut,” as the curse to boil the blood in a living creature sped across the short distance, slamming into the bird to destroy it in a ball of curse-ridden magic.

Except it didn’t.

My ball of death exploded inches from the bird, breaking against a flash of black that had enveloped the large bird, protecting it. Sparkles lit the afternoon, falling like a cascade over the protection bubble. The pixies darted back with frightened cries, gathering in a hazing cloud as the bird shook itself and the protection circle vanished.

Cawing, the ugly black stork turned a red eye to me. My gut clenched as I noticed it was slitted like a goat’s.

“You stupid fool,” Trent gasped from the ground, his eyes tearing as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not a bird. It’s a demon.”