His gaze flicked to Vivian. “You work with them,” he said. “Think you’re special?”

That had been barbed and pointed, and it made me angrier still. “I wish I wasn’t, Trent,” I said, managing not to shove him. “I’m so special it’s going to kill me. That one…” I pointed to my empty circle. “That one is bad. Banishing him might cause a problem tomorrow, but nothing like keeping him around and trying to harness him would, and the sooner you get that through your thick skull, the longer we all will live. It was my decision to banish him, and you will sit down, shut up—”

“And enjoy the ride,” he finished, the last of his suave businessman exterior vanishing as he bent at the waist and smoothly slipped into the car. He slid to the opposite side and slammed the door shut, waiting.

Ivy gave me an unreadable look, scratching her neck as she got in the backseat beside him and rolled the window down. I was hot and sticky, and Vivian slid across the bench seat to put herself behind the wheel, freeing me to weave my way through a passel of pixies and ride shotgun.

I got in, feeling Trent’s glare on the back of my neck, the heat of the sun on the fake leather seats warm under me. My neck itched, and I realized that we’d been pixed somewhere along the way. Damn it, this was not my day. “I thought you were tired,” I said as I looked across the seat at Vivian, and she frowned.

“I’m awake now.” Saying nothing more, she cranked the engine over, and I fiddled with the vents, aiming them at me. I felt awful, not having showered two mornings in a row.

The pixies were gone, and I whistled for Jenks. He zipped into the car without his usual flair, almost falling as he latched on to the stem of the rearview mirror. His long curly hair swung as he dusted heavily, and I wondered where during the last 150 miles he’d lost his hair band.

“Thanks for driving, Vivian,” I said, and she carefully pulled out onto the road, actually using her turn signal.

The young woman was silent, pensive as she rolled her window up while the air-conditioning took over. “He pushed through my circle like it was nothing,” she said, gaze flicking to me and back to the road, looking embarrassed. “And what was he doing in the sun?” She looked at me, scared. “Did you call it?”

I rubbed the blood off my knuckles, stiffening as I forced myself not to turn and glare at Trent. My blood looked like anyone else’s, but everyone who had blood like mine died unless they’d had three years of illegal genetic tinkering disguised as summer camp.

“Did you?” she asked again, frightened, and I shook my head, staying silent. Jenks’s wings clattered, and I couldn’t meet his eyes. Trent’s voice might be all that stood between me and an Alcatraz jail cell, and I wasn’t going to get him labeled as a demon summoner—yet. Jenks would be quiet, too. And Ivy.