Ivy’s determined look shifted to one of shock. “You think I’m right?”

The smell of coffee was pulling me into the kitchen. Ivy followed me in, her footsteps soundless. I clasped my arms around myself as I entered the brighter room. The memory of hiding in the dark from fairy assassins quashed any feeling of excitement that the prospect of tagging Trent had given me. I needed to make some more spells. Strong ones. Different ones. Really different ones. Maybe … maybe black. I felt sick.

Nick and Jenks had their heads together as Jenks tried to convince him to open the jar of honey. By Nick’s grin and continuous soft refusals, I guessed he knew something about pixies as well as vamps. I went to stand by the coffeemaker, waiting for it to finish. Ivy opened the cupboard and handed me three mugs, the question in her eyes demanding an answer as to why I was suddenly on edge. She was a vamp; she read body language better than Dr. Ruth.

“The I.S. is still spelling for me,” I said softly. “Whenever the FIB moves to make a major play, the I.S. always follows to get involved. If I’m going to make a public appearance, I need something to protect myself from them. Something strong. I can make it while you’re at the FIB, then join you at the airport,” I said slowly.

Ivy stood at the sink, her arms crossed suspiciously. “That sounds like a good idea,” she prompted. “Some prep work. Fine.”

Tension pulled me tight. Black earth magic always involved killing something before adding it to the mix. Especially the strong spells. Guess I was about to find out if I could do that. Dropping my eyes, I arranged the mugs in a straight row. “Jenks?” I questioned. “What’s the assassin lineup like outside?”

The wind from his wings shifted my hair as he landed by my hand. “Real light. It’s been four days since you’ve been spotted. It’s just the fairies now. Give my kids five minutes, and we’ll distract them enough that you can slip out if you need to.”

“Good. I’m going out to find some new spells as soon as I get dressed.”

“What for?” Ivy asked, her tone going wary. “You have plenty of spell books.”

I felt the dampness of sweat on my neck. I didn’t like that Ivy knew it was there. “I need something stronger.” I turned, finding Ivy’s face curiously slack. Dread pulled my shoulders tight. I took a deep breath and dropped my eyes. “I want something I can use for an offensive,” I said in a small voice. With one hand cupping an elbow, I put a hand over my collarbone.

“Whoa, Rache,” Jenks said, his wings clattering as he forced himself into my line of sight. His tiny features were pinched in worry, doing nothing for my sense of well-being. “That’s dipping kind of close to dark magic, isn’t it?”

My heart was pounding, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. “Dipping? Hell, it is,” I said. I flicked a glance at Ivy. Her posture was carefully neutral. Nick, too, didn’t seem upset as he rose, coming close at the promise of coffee. Again, the thought of him practicing black magic raced through me. Humans could tap into ley lines, though wizards and sorceresses were thought of as little more than a joke in most Inderland circles.