The demon stood before us, taking a tin of what probably wasn’t snuff out of a tiny vest pocket and sniffing a pinch of black powder into both nostrils. “You cast a well-built circle,” it said between cultured sneezes. “As good as your father’s.”

My eyes widened and I stepped to the circle’s edge. “What do you know of my dad?”

“Reputation, Rachel Mariana Morgan,” it simpered. “Strictly reputation. He was not in my realm of expertise when he was alive. Now that he’s dead, I’m interested. I specialize in secrets. As does Nick Sparagmos, it seems.” It put the tin away and pulled Ivy’s chair out from before her computer. “Now,” it said idly as it shook the mouse and brought up the Internet, “as amusing as this is, can we get on with it? Your circle is tight. I won’t be killing you now.” Its red eyes went sly. “Later, perhaps.”

I followed its gaze to the clock over the sink. It was one-forty. I hoped Ivy didn’t walk in on this. An undead vamp might survive a demon attack, but a live one would stand as much of a chance as me.

I took a breath to tell it to go away because I didn’t call it, but a thought stopped me cold. It knew Nick’s last name. It had said it twice.

“It knows your last name,” I said, turning to Nick. “Why does it know your name?”

Nick’s mouth opened and his eyes slid to the demon. “Ah…”

“Why does it know your name?” I demanded, my hands on my hips. I was tired of being afraid, and Nick was a convenient outlet. “You’ve been calling it up, haven’t you!”

“Well…” he said, his long face reddening.

“You idiot!” I shouted. “I told you not to call it. You promised you wouldn’t!”

“No,” he said, his hands taking a grip on my shoulders. “I didn’t. You said I wouldn’t. And it just sort of happened. I didn’t even mean to call him the first time.”

“The first?” I exclaimed. “How many times have there been?”

Nick scratched the bristles on his cheek. “See, I was sketching pentagrams—for practice. I wasn’t going to do anything. He appeared, thinking I was trying to call him with some information to pay off my debt. Thank God I was in a circle.” Nick glanced at the soggy papers with their silver chalk lines. “Just like he showed up tonight.”

Together we turned to the demon, and it sent its shoulders to rise and fall in a shrug. It seemed more than willing to wait out our argument, more interested in Ivy’s favorites list than us at the moment.

“It’s an it, not a him,” I said. “And I’m not going to let you blame this on the demon.”