Newt’s expression became one of familiar confusion. “Have I forgotten something again?” she asked suspiciously. “It appeared as if she was killing you. Or were you two…?” She hesitated, then put a hand to her mouth and laughed. “Gally! You dog! You tried to seduce her?”

“She’s been living in my kitchen for almost a year,” he said sullenly. “Forgive a man for testing the waters. She wasn’t screaming. And my name is Al now. Remember?”

“Testing the waters!” I echoed him, ticked. “You almost had me on the floor.” I’d be furious if I hadn’t given him back as much as he gave me. God! Men were pigs.

Al frowned, having to look over the couch between us. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself. I know I was.”

“And that’s why you were screaming like a little girl, right?” I barked, then hunched into myself and held my ribs. Ow. Yeah, I had liked it. But not with him, never.

“Is it a pajama party, Gally?” Newt asked, and a wash of black ever-after coated her. My chi ached as Newt shrank until the ever-after fell away, showing her looking like a child in bright red pajamas. Her hair was gone, and her eyes were hollow. She looked ill, and in sudden shock, I realized she was one of the kids in the brat pack at the hospital—the one who had forgiven me for doing black magic. She’d died with one of my stuffed animals clutched to her. And Newt wore her image as if it meant nothing.

“That’s not nice,” I said, and Newt smiled like a beautiful bald angel with the wisdom of the world in her, hurting me even more.

Newt laughed again, this time with a high, childlike innocence, making me shudder and forget what I was mad about. She was coming toward me with her little hand extended to help me up, and I got to my feet, not wanting her to touch me.

“I was trying to provoke you into defending yourself,” Al said loudly from the couch. Rubbing a hand over his hair, he looked both sheepish and worried. “I’m worried about Ku’Sox. Newt, since you are here, what’s your opinion? Is she reasonably safe?”

“Seeing as she was halfway to killing you, I’d say she has a sporting chance,” Newt said in her child voice, and I stifled another shudder.

“That’s great,” I snarled, limping away from Newt and toward the fire. God, my life sucked. “So I can go back now, right?” I said sullenly as I picked up my scrying mirror and sat down. Crap, I was sore. I was probably going to have to get my ribs wrapped. This was going to look swell tomorrow at the trial.

“Oooh! Marshmallows?” Distracted, Newt almost skipped to the overflowing bowl beside the fire, the visage of a dying child somehow suiting her.

“Al?” I prompted, holding my ribs. I think he’d about crushed my knee, too.

Al slumped in his chair until his butt almost slid off the cushion. His robe had fallen open, and I couldn’t help but look. Dude… He was hung like a horse, his ruddy complexion almost black down there. No way was he getting his tackle anywhere near me.