He hesitated. “You want me to move?”

“Only if you want to be out of it.”

His look turned incredulous. “You’re going to enclose the entire island?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No-o-o-o.” Nick scooted his bar stool closer. “Witches must be able to hold more ley line power than humans. I can’t make a circle much bigger than three feet across.”

I smiled. “I don’t know. I’d ask Dr. Anders if she wouldn’t make me feel like an idiot. I think it depends. My mom can’t hold a circle bigger than three feet, either. So … in or out?”

“In?”

My breath slipped from me in relief. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” Leaning over the counter, I plunked my spell book down beside him. “I need your help translating this.”

“You want me to do your homework and help you bind your familiar, too?” he protested.

I winced. “The only spell I could find in my books was in Latin.”

Nick looked at me in disbelief. “Rachel. I sleep at night.”

I glanced at the clock above the sink. “It’s only one-thirty.”

Sighing, he slid the book to him. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist once he started, and sure enough, his mild annoyance shifted to hot interest before he had read more than a paragraph. “Hey, this is old Latin.”

I leaned across the counter until my shadow covered the print. “I can read the plant names, and I’m sure I made the transfer medium right, as it’s standard, but the incantation is iffy.”

He wasn’t listening anymore, his brow furrowed as he ran a long finger under the text. “Your circle needs to be modified to resolve and gather power.”

“Thanks,” I said, glad he was going to help. I didn’t mind muddling through most things, but spelling was an exact science. And just the idea that I needed a familiar made me uncomfortable. Most witches had them, but ley line witches needed them as a matter of safety. Dividing one’s aura helped prevent a demon from pulling you into the ever-after. Poor Bob.

Nick went back to sketching pentagrams for me, glancing up as I pulled my twenty-pound bag of salt from under the counter and set it thumping on top. Acutely aware of his eyes on me, I scraped a handful from the clumping mass. At Ivy’s insistence, I had blown off the security deposit and etched a shallow circle in the linoleum. Ivy had helped. Actually, Ivy had done all of it, using a string and chalk contraption to be sure the circle was perfect. I’d sat on the counter and let her have at it, knowing it would tick her off if I got in her way. The result was an absolutely perfect circle. She had even taken a compass and marked true north with black nail polish to show me where to start my circle.

Now, peering down to find the black dot, I carefully sifted salt, moving clockwise around the island until I found my starting point. I added the doodads for protection and divination, put the green candles at the appropriate places, then lit them from the flame that I’d used to make the transfer medium.