“Trial contract …” I stammered, floored. “Nick, this isn’t twenty CDs for a penny with only three more to buy. It’s trying to take your soul!”

The demon chuckled, and I flicked a glance at it.

“That’s not going to happen,” Nick soothed. “I can call on him whenever I want, same as if I gave him my soul. And at the end of three years I walk away with no ties or commitments.”

“If it sounds like too good a deal, you aren’t looking at the fine print.”

Still he smiled, his face showing confidence instead of the terror he should have been feeling. “I read the fine print.” His finger rose to touch my lips and stop my outburst. “All of it. I get minor questions answered for free, and I can put larger questions to him on credit.”

My eyes closed. “Nick. Did you know your aura is rimmed in black? You look like a wraith in my mind’s eye.”

“So do you, love,” Nick whispered, pulling me close.

Shocked, I did nothing as his arms went about me. My aura was as tainted as his? I hadn’t done anything but let it save my life.

“He has all the answers, Rachel,” Nick whispered, and I felt my hair move with his breath. “I can’t help it.”

The demon cleared its throat, and I pulled away from Nick.

“Nick Sparagmos is my best student since Benjamin Franklin,” the demon said, its accent making it sound completely reasonable as it touched Ivy’s screen to make it go blue. It didn’t fool me, though. The thing couldn’t be swayed by pity, guilt, or remorse. If it had found a way past my circle, it would have killed us both for the audacity of calling it from the ever-after—whether it had been intentional or not.

“Though Attila could have gone far if he had been able to look past the military applications,” it continued, looking at its nails. “And it is hard to best Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci for outright cleverness.”

“Name dropper,” I muttered, and the demon inclined its head graciously. It was more obvious than words that if Nick had the demon at his beck and call for three years, he would agree to anything to keep it there. Which was exactly what the demon was counting on.

“Um, Rachel,” Nick said as he took my elbow. “Since he’s here, you might want to arrange for a summoning name from him so he doesn’t show up every time you close a circle and draw a pentagram. That’s how he got my name. I gave it to him for his summoning name.”

“I know your names, Rachel Mariana Morgan,” the demon said. “I want a secret.”

My stomach clenched. “Sure,” I said tiredly, scrambling for something. I had a few of those. My eyes fell on the photo of my dad and Trent’s father, and I silently held it up to the transparent sheet of ever-after.

“Where’s the secret in that?” the demon mocked. “Two men standing before a bus.” Then it blinked. I watched, fascinated, as the horizontal slits went wide until its eyes were almost black. It stood, reaching out for it. A muttered curse slipped past its lips as its fingers smacked into the barrier. I smelled burnt amber.