“An undrawn circle won’t hold,” Trent said softly, his eyes wide as he stood beside me, two of the pixy leaders at his shoulder. Stupid-ass elf might get hurt, but the demon couldn’t snatch him, and he knew it.

“You need to shut up,” I snarled, starting to shake. “I think you’ve helped out enough for one day, okay?”

He dropped his head and rocked back, looking not nearly chagrined enough. Turning to the approaching bird, I touched the line, pulling it into me and imagining the strongest, bird-hating circle I could think of. Oh God. The yellow claws looked as big as tree roots, and they were getting bigger.

“Now!” Jenks shouted.

“Rhombus!” I screamed, flinging my hand out to give my spell more strength.

I went down on one knee as I pushed the energy out of me instead of letting it flow naturally. With a clap of sound that reverberated like thunder, my bubble flashed into existence. Screeching, the bird tried to backwing, head flung high and claws yanked tight to its body.

“Hold,” I whispered, hands in fists as it hit. “Oh God. Please hold.”

The bird hit, and I shook, bowing my head as the impact reverberated through me. And then my circle fell. Panting, I looked up. The bird had glanced off the top of the bubble, pulling up enough to avoid a full, neck-snapping strike. Tumbling, it hit the ground, getting smaller as it rolled across the parking lot and smacked into a rock.

“Did you kill it?” Trent said. “Rachel, did you kill it!”

He sounded frightened, and I gave him an ugly look. For all the smooth callousness he showed the world, perhaps he wasn’t as immune to death as he wanted everyone to think.

“We should be so lucky,” I said sourly, crab-walking a quick circle around the car with the chalk to make a more secure barrier. Ivy looked frustrated, pixies perched around her for security since Trent had driven them from himself. Vivian was pale. Scared. The lump of feathers now lying at the base of the rock wasn’t moving, but I invoked the circle, shaking in the hot sun, waiting.

“Are you going to go look at it?” Vivian asked and Jenks landed on my shoulder.

“Yeah. Right,” Jenks said, dusting heavily in exhaustion. “You don’t poke the monster when it’s down. You run away.”

“I’m not getting out of this circle,” I said. “Give it an hour or two, and if he still doesn’t move, we can throw rocks at him.” Demon. I was starting to believe that it was one.

Trent edged closer, stopping when I gave him a withering look. But whether we should poke the downed bird or simply drive away became moot when the lump of black shifted and stirred. Fear tightened my shoulders as a man rose, shedding feathers, the foot-long shafts of obsidian gray falling from him to reveal the simply cut gray pants and shirt underneath and the soft gray slippers. His slate gray hair was silver where the light hit it, and when he turned, he smiled as if pleased that I’d hurt him. He was taller than me. Pale. Silver. Shiny. Demon.