“But a smart one,” Ivy said. “Good thinking.”

Pierce pulled his gaze from the head of the line. “I won’t let harm touch you. If there’s trouble, I’ll be there, and as soon as we get through security, I’ll give you the amulet.”

I could see the sense in that, and I nodded as my headache began to ease. The line moved forward, and I took the pen after checking my lethal-amulet detector. It wasn’t working, but old habits die hard. As the bored woman behind the table talked to her neighbor, I signed the paper, adding a period at the end of my name to break any psychic connection. I handed it to Pierce, who immediately gave it to Ivy.

“I’m her security,” he lied to the woman, taking my bicep a little more firmly.

I eyed Pierce, letting him manhandle me since he seemed to enjoy the excuse and I couldn’t protest without causing a stir. A flash of interest broke across the woman’s face, and she looked from the paper Ivy was signing, to the badge pinned to my bag, to me. In one breath, her expression went from pleasant to disgusted. “Oh, it’s you. You have a reserved seat up front.”

Oh, it’s you? Nice. “Thank you,” I said pointedly as Ivy pushed the paper back toward her. “Do you know if Trent Kalamack is here yet?”

“No.” She was breathing fast, and the ladies to either side of her were silent.

My gut twisted. Black witch. They thought I was a black witch, and they could hardly stand me. “We’re going to need one more place,” I said, indicating Ivy, and the woman shook her head.

“She can’t go in.”

I’d had it with women who thought they had ultimate power because they’d been given a tiny task, but I exhaled, trying to relax. “Why not?” I asked, voice level as I hitched my shoulder bag higher.

“Witches only.”

Pierce looked up, scanning the crowd behind us as someone began calling “Yoo-hoo!” in a loud, demanding voice.

“Trent Kalamack isn’t a witch,” I said, my temper rising.

Pierce let go of me to wave at someone, and the power that had been seeping through me drained away. A headache slammed into me, and I stiffened.

“Mr. Kalamack is part of the proceedings,” the woman said. “She isn’t.”

Angry, I put my hands on the table and leaned into her slightly. Ivy drew me back, her eyes holding a surprising lack of anger. “I’ll get in another way,” she murmured.

“No.” I pulled from her, and the woman looked frightened that Pierce wasn’t paying attention to me. “I’ve been shot at, bugged, and attacked. I want you there, and there’s no reason you can’t come in!”

The woman fidgeted nervously, glancing first at Pierce, then the people starting to pile up behind me. “It’s for security reasons,” she said, and I nodded dramatically.

“Uh-huh. Which is exactly why I want her with me.”

“Rachel!” a familiar cheerful voice exclaimed at my elbow, and I spun. Pierce was grinning. Beside him was my mother, a shopping bag under her arm, a big yellow hat on her head, and a broomstick in her hand. She was beaming, and every thought went flying out of my head.