“Get out!” I shouted, hands on my head as I tried not to hammer my forehead into the pavement.

“Rachel Mariana Morgan,” Ku’Sox said, flinging a hand out; I heard Ivy fall back with a grunt. The circle was down. No. Please no.

“Who has been teaching you such dangerous tricks?” Ku’Sox said, and there was a touch on my shoulder, soft and hesitant.

“Go to…hell,” I panted. No, not that memory, I thought in anguish as I saw his reflection in the mirror while I held Kisten as he died.

“Algaliarept?” The stitching in Ku’Sox’s sleeves glinted in the sun as he threw magic at Jenks, and I felt tears form, falling hot on my knees. They were trying to fight him as I sat crumpled on the hot pavement, living my life for the demon. “Why is the dullard letting you wander about here in the sun, little familiar?”

“Get out of my head…” I breathed as I tried not to remember that I wasn’t a familiar but almost an equal. “Get out!”

“Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly as a memory of Trent grew strong. Jonathan was there, his face having Ku’Sox’s eyes. And then I was gasping, my fisted hand scraping the pavement as I tried to get up, alone again in my thoughts. Panting, I bowed my head as the heat soaked into me. Oh God, it had been awful. My life. He’d seen my entire life.

“You can invoke demon magic?” Ku’Sox said softly, bending over me with the faintest hint of burnt amber between us. But if it was from him or me, I didn’t know.

My breath came in fast as I felt arms go around me. Head lolling, I tried to focus, failing. He was holding me, and I was too tired to even protest. I’d lived my entire life in eight heartbeats, and the heat washed out of me as I fell into shock.

“S-stop,” I managed, jerking when Ku’Sox murmured a word of Latin, and Vivian cried out in pain. The only reason they were still alive was because he was interested in me.

My hand was in a fist, and he brought my bleeding knuckles up to his mouth, licking my blood. Working at it, I managed to focus on him. He had a scar on his eyelid, like Lee. He’d be minus an eye if I could move my other arm.

“You’re a link,” he said, grinning at me like he’d won a doll at the fair. “And you have red hair and wear pants. I adore red hair. I once gave an entire generation of witches that color. That was before they locked me in the ground.”

“Put me down,” I demanded, and he did, holding me until I got my balance, but when I tried to escape, his grip tightened about my waist.

“Seems as if I got out just in time,” he murmured, looking me over again. “Why are you dallying with Algaliarept? He’s a hack. But then, he’s probably the best they have now. Unless Newt is still alive. I’ve been gone for…” Squinting, he looked up at the sun in evaluation. “Somewhere in the vicinity of two thousand years?” Frowning, his gaze dropped to me. “Two thousand years and you have red hair. How’s that for a legacy!”