“You watch me watch TV?” I asked, uncomfortable, and he chuckled.

“Yeah. It’s a lot of fun. You jump up and down a lot.”

My brow furrowed as Jenks snickered. “Sorry,” I muttered, but then a faint tickle of warning pulled me straighter. Nick was up reading. He usually spent his Saturday in bed catching up on sleep. “Nick, what book are you reading?”

“Ah, yours,” he admitted.

I only had one book that he’d be interested in. “Nick!” I protested as I scooted to the edge of my chair and gripped the phone tighter, “you said you’d take it to Dr. Anders.” After blowing off my trip to the FIB because I was frazzled worse than my hair, Nick had taken me home. I’d thought he offered to deliver the book because of my new and healthy phobia of the literally damned tome. Obviously Nick had other plans, and it hadn’t made it that far.

“She wasn’t going to look at it last night,” he said defensively. “And it’s safer in my apartment than sitting in a guardhouse getting coffee rings. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep it one more night. There is something in it I want to ask the demon.” He paused, clearly waiting for me to protest.

My face warmed. “Idiot,” I said, obliging him. “You are an idiot. Dr. Anders told you what that demon is trying to do. It nearly kills both of us, and you’re still pumping it for information?”

I heard Nick sigh. “I’m being careful,” he said, and I made a frightened bark of laughter. “Rachel, I promise I’ll take it over first thing tomorrow. She isn’t going to look at it until then anyway.” He hesitated, and I could almost hear him gather his resolve. “I’m going to call him. Please don’t make me do this behind your back. I’d feel better if someone knew.”

“Why? So I can tell your mother what killed you?” I said sharply, then caught myself. Eyes closing, I squeezed the red ball between my fingers. He was silent, waiting. I hated that I had no right to tell him to stop. Not even as his girlfriend. Summoning demons wasn’t illegal. It was just really, really stupid. “Promise you’ll call me when you’re done?” I asked, feeling my stomach quiver. “I’m up until about five.”

“Sure,” he breathed. “Thanks. I want to hear how your dinner with Trent goes.”

“You bet,” I echoed. “Talk to you later.” If you survive.

I hung up, meeting Jenks’s eyes. He was hovering in the middle of the room, a splat ball tucked under his arm. “You two are going to end up as dark smears on ley line circles,” he said, and I flicked the splat ball I held at him. He caught it one-handed, moving several feet before stopping its momentum. He flung it back, and I dodged. It hit Ivy’s chair without breaking. Thankful for small favors, I picked it up and headed for the kitchen.