“Shut up!” I shouted, holding my scrying mirror close between me and the package. A puff of burnt amber wafted up, and I winced. Whatever he had given me was going to need to be dry cleaned.

“All right, all right,” Al said as he sat up and rubbed his hands together. “You can go home. Or to your pathetic little hotel room. Whatever,” he added when I made a noise of protest. “I’m going to have a busy day today, and you’ll just muddle it up if you’re whining about here. I’ve got to make reservations at Dalliance. It’s a little tight, but if I drop your name, something will open up. And there are your quarters to arrange.” He looked up at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to be roomies? You can have the soft pillow.”

I closed my eyes and tried to find strength. “Please don’t start.” I had a chance, didn’t I?

“Go, go, go…,” Al said quickly. “And here. Sorry for being so rough. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

My eyes opened, and I saw him make a tiny ley-line gesture just before the ley line took me. Warm and tasting of salt, it slipped into me, dissolving me into nothing but memory. I tried to listen to the line like Bis said he could, or sense an auratic color, but nothing could get through my protective circle. Al even took the smut for the trip, which I thought was odd, and with very little disorientation, I caught my balance as the curse touched my thoughts and rebuilt myself from my memory. My jeans still stunk of ever-after, but my aching muscles, sore back, and pulped knee felt perfect. That small gesture Al had made before sending me home must have been a healing curse, because traveling the lines wouldn’t do that to a person. I’d tried.

The walls of Trent’s penthouse suite shimmered into existence, and the soft sounds of music. Apparently Pierce had figured out the MP3 player. My dusty boots pressed into the carpet, and I shivered as I suddenly had a body again and the cool, dry, air-conditioned air hit me.

Pierce was standing at the windows, watching the light of the unseen sunrise spill over the bay. His stance was worried, and he clearly didn’t know I was back. The fog had lifted, and Alcatraz was visible. I took a breath, and he turned.

“You’re back,” he said, his voice giving me no clue to his mood, but his features…It was all there to see. His blue eyes held thick worry, anxiety, and relief, all mixed up. He didn’t move toward me, and I didn’t know where we stood anymore. Obviously he was glad I was back, but not enough to touch me. He wasn’t confident enough of the future to cross the room and tell me today was going to be okay, that I was going to see midnight come and go—and be better for it.