It knew Trent’s middle name? Then the same demon attacked us both. Someone had wanted us both dead. For an instant I was tempted to ask the demon who, then dropped my eyes. I could find that out on my own, and it wouldn’t cost me my soul.

“Call us even for you having taken me through the ley lines and leave me forever,” I said, and the demon laughed. I wondered if my teeth were really that big when I opened my mouth.

“Oh, you are a love,” it said in my voice and its accent. “Seeing that picture is enough to buy a summoning name, perhaps, but if you want to absolve your debt, I need something more. Something that could mean your death if it was whispered into the right ear.”

The thought that I might be rid of it completely filled me with a reckless daring. “What if I told you why I was there? At that camp?” Nick moved nervously beside me, but if I got rid of the demon forever, it would be worth it.

The demon snickered. “You flatter yourself. That can’t be worth your soul.”

“Then I’ll tell you why I was there if I can summon you safely even without a circle,” I blurted, thinking it didn’t want to clear my debt simply so it would have a chance at me later.

At that, the demon laughed, turning my stomach as its appearance grotesquely shifted back to the British gentleman even as it roared in mirth. “A promise of safety without a circle?” it said, wiping its eyes when it could speak again. “There’s nothing on this God-stinking earth that’s worth that.”

I swallowed hard. My secret was good—and all I wanted was to be free of it—but it wouldn’t believe it was worth it unless I told it first. “I had a rare blood disease,” I said before I could change my mind. “I think Trent’s father fixed it with his illegal genetic therapy.”

The demon chortled. “You and several thousand other brats.” Coattails furling, it strode to the edge of the circle. I backpedaled to the counter, heart pounding. “You had better start taking this seriously, or I will lose my good…” It jerked as it caught sight of my book, open to the charm for binding a familiar. “…temper,” it finished, the word trailing to nothing.

“Where did you—” it stammered, then it blinked, sending its goat-slitted eyes over me, then Nick. I couldn’t have been more surprised when a small sound of disbelief escaped it. “Oh,” it said, sounding shocked. “Damn me thrice.”

Nick reached behind me, closing the book and covering it with my sheets of black paper. Suddenly I felt ten times more nervous. My gaze roved over the transparent candles and the pentagram made out of salt. What in hell was I doing?