“Yeah, but she’s not going to be pissed at me.”

Charlie stared at him for a long minute, then she laughed. “It’s like I don’t even listen to myself. This is the argument Allie and I made to the aunties about you being a Gale. You don’t do sorcery, you use it.” To Jack’s surprise, she actually sounded amused. “Okay, not so funny when weighed against the end of the world and since there isn’t anyone around to train you, it looks like the family habit of killing sorcerers is about to bite us on the ass.” Her smile softened and, just for a moment, Jack saw exactly what she’d meant by I like you too much. He’d been raised in fire, yet her smile still burned. “At least you’ll be safe.”

“I what?” The roaring in his ears had nearly drowned her out. At least he hoped the roaring was in his ears; he half thought he’d changed and given the pressure in his chest a voice. As Charlie seemed neither deaf nor singed, he congratulated himself on his self-control.

“You can go back to the UnderRealm.”

“The UnderRealm?” That was it. He could save her. Them. Save the family. “Not me, all of us. We can all go to the UnderRealm; the whole family.” Relief driving him up onto his feet, he walked to the edge of the roof and blew smoke at the pigeons across the alley.

“Sorry, Jack, but we can’t.” She was standing when he turned. Still wrapped in the quilt. Looking . . . resigned? “Not for any longer than the time between rituals. We’re too tied to the earth.”

“But if I’m a Gale . . .”

“And a dragon. And a sorcerer. You’re unique.”

“So are you.”

“No arguing. But unfortunately, this time, I’m not unique in a way that helps.” Her thumb rubbed across a worn piece of denim, and Jack could feel the charm from across the roof. It was male. He was pretty sure it was the only one on the quilt. It was a simple protection, nothing more than a generic stay safe, and he wondered if her father had made it. During his visit to Ontario, Jack had met Charlie’s mother but not her father, and Charlie never talked about him. Female dragons ate their mates, so Jack hadn’t given his absence much thought. His mother hadn’t eaten his father, but only because the sorcerer had slipped between worlds immediately after. She hadn’t been able to follow until Jack himself had laid out a blood path.

Dragons and Gales were more alike than he’d thought.

“Jack?” She grinned at him, the old Charlie back. “You having an epiphany?”

“Yeah, I guess. How could you tell?”

Her grin broadened. “I can smell the smoke.”