“Don’t look at her!” Al exclaimed. “Don’t—” He groaned as the crazy demon smiled and changed her path to us. “Shit,” he added, slumping. “She’s coming over.”

“What?” I said, uneasy, but seeing two empty places at our table. “She’s the only person I know here besides you.”

Al looked at the ceiling as if in pain as Newt made her way to us, her pace both provocative and flat, her motions feminine but her figure androgynous. She was wearing a man’s business suit, and it changed to match mine as she approached.

“Well, that’s an improvement,” Al muttered as he brought his gaze from the ceiling. “See, Rachel, you’re having a positive impact already.” Pasting a smile on his face, he stood. “Newt! Love, I’m so surprised to see you here! Please join us!”

“Sit down, Gally,” she said, turning her cheek so he could give it a perfunctory kiss. “I know you loathe me down to my mRNA.”

My eyebrows rose, and I met his gaze glancing to me as he helped her with her chair.

“You seem unusually cognizant tonight,” he muttered, taking the purse that appeared as she handed it to him.

Newt, now wearing a blond pageboy cut, sniffed. “It’s amazing what one remembers given time.” Hand long and thin, she gestured for Brooke to bring her a drink, then focused on me, black eyes wide and wondering. “Did you bring me my ruler, Rachel?”

My mouth opened, then shut. “Um, I forgot,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Newt, love.” Al took her hand and gave it a kiss. “Let’s not talk business. Not tonight.”

Newt pulled her hand from him with a little tug, looking disgusted. “No, let’s talk of the future. Did I not say I could see the future? I’d like to hear of your day, Rachel Mariana Morgan.”

My gaze fell, and I remained silent. She saw the future, all right. But seeing that I had a pattern of being screwed over, it wasn’t hard to predict.

Al cleared his throat as if bothered that I was unhappy, and Newt tried again.

“Rachel,” she said, leaning back in her chair with her glass, “do you enjoy looking like a rung-climbing peon who has to sacrifice the fruits of her ovaries to have status in a man’s world?”

“No,” I muttered.

“Then go put on something new in the jukebox,” she said, handing me a coin. “My treat. Something exotic and old, when women were recognized for the goddesses they are.”

Al’s eyes widened in wonder as I took the tarnished gold coin she slid across the table to me. It felt slimy, almost, and I glanced to Al for guidance. Was I being gotten rid of?

“Go,” he encouraged, indicating what looked like an accurate representation of a jukebox, complete with colored bubbles and 45s. It didn’t fit the décor, but it still looked as if it belonged there in the corner.

I stood, not appreciating that Newt’s smile was probably because I’d looked to Al for direction. My shoes hurt me, and I kicked them off, leaving them under my chair as I padded across the carpet, my head up and not looking at the demons watching me as I gave them a wide birth.