Feeling my eyes on him, he lifted his head. “What?”

For a moment, I said nothing, tasting the emotions coursing through me as he tried to read my mind. Was I confusing adrenaline with attraction? Was I losing sight of my desire for independence, distracted by quick, clever people who didn’t give a damn about whom they hurt to get what they wanted? Or was I just now seeing who he really was?

Trent’s face lost its questioning expression, shades of mistrust seeping in around his eyes. Jenks buzzed his wings at me, and I shook myself. “Nothing. Be careful, okay?”

Not convinced, Trent stood beside a comfortable chair, waiting.

Pierce scrambled to catch the clothes iron as it fell. Jenks flew up and down at the noise, but neither Trent nor I even looked.

“Okay…” I breathed as I tugged my bag closer and brought out my mirror. Turning halfway to the back of the room, I shouted, “Ivy? I’m dropping Trent off. I’ll be back in five minutes.” I thought for a second. “Maybe ten!”

“Okay,” came her muffled voice, and I felt a surge of tension.

“Wait!” Jenks exclaimed, “I have to give Ivy my phone. She’s going to call my kids for me while I’m gone.”

I glanced at Trent, expecting to find a tired exasperation, surprised when I found only a patient understanding. Maybe they’d been talking more than I thought. Jenks buzzed off, Ivy’s closed door hardly slowing him down as he slipped through the crack.

Pierce finally got the iron back where it belonged, and he shut the sliding closet door with an attention-getting thump. “Rachel…,” he warned me, and my blood pressure spiked, pushed by the adrenaline already coursing through me. His blue eyes were pinched, and his jaw was tight, reminding me of when he had once stood in the snow in a borrowed coat and tried to stop me from helping him with a run. I’d flipped him into a snowbank then, and I’d do the same here. Well, minus the snow of course.

“Don’t start with me,” I said, and Trent scuffed his foot on the carpet, impatient. “Al owes me for saving his life.” The scrying mirror was warming on my lap, and I set a hand on it, feeling a ping of energy equalize. “Thanks for that, by the way. I might be able to milk this for years.”

I’d meant it to be funny, but Pierce came closer, sitting on the edge of the chair opposite me, the coffee table between us. The table had expensive-looking picture books on it of the work of local artists, most of which looked too sophisticated for my tastes. “I don’t like this,” he said.

“I don’t like it much myself,” I said, almost laughing as I exchanged a look with Trent.

From Ivy’s room came an exasperated “I got it, Jenks! Every four hours. Go away and let me sleep!”

Jenks darted out, looking browbeaten, and I turned my attention to my calling circle. It was as beautiful as ever, and I had made it. With a curse.