The pungent scent of ink assailed me, and David looked up from notarizing it. “Not from our end of things. Thank you, Mr. Jenks.” He looked at me. “Rachel.”

A soft rattling of the windows from an air-pressure shift brought both our heads up. Someone had opened the back door to the church. “Rachel?” came a high voice, and I blinked.

It was my mom? Bewildered, I looked at David. “Ah, it’s my mom. Maybe you ought to go. Unless you want her to bully you into taking me on a date.”

David’s face went startled as he tucked the paper away. “No. I’m done. Thanks. I probably should have called first, but it is normal business hours.”

My face warmed. I had just added ten thousand to my bank account, courtesy of Quen and his “little problem.” I could sit on my butt and sulk for one night if I wanted. And I wasn’t going to prep the charms I’d be using on said run tonight. Spelling after midnight under a waning moon was asking for trouble. Besides, how I arranged my day was not his business.

Bothered, I looked at the back of the church, not wanting to be rude but not wanting my mom to play twenty questions with David, either. “I’ll be right there, Mom!” I shouted, then turned to Jenks. “Will you see him out for me?”

“Sure thing, Rache.” Jenks rose up to head height to accompany David into the foyer.

“ ’Bye, David,” I said, and he gave me a raised-hand good-bye and put his hat on.

Why does it all happen at once? I thought, hustling to the kitchen. My mom visiting unannounced would top off an already perfect day. Tired, I entered the kitchen to find her with her head in my fridge. From the sanctuary came the boom of the front door closing.

“Mom,” I said, trying to keep my voice pleasant. “It’s great to see you. But it’s business hours.” My thoughts went to my bathroom, wondering if my undies were still atop the dryer.

Smiling, she straightened, peeking at me from around the door of the fridge. She was wearing sunglasses, and they looked really odd with her straw hat and sundress. Sundress? She was in a sundress? It was below twenty out there.

“Rachel!” Smiling, she shut the door and opened her arms. “Give me a hug, honey.”

Thoughts whirling, I absently returned her embrace. Maybe I should call her psychologist and make sure she was still making her appointments. An odd smell clung to her, and as I pulled away, I said, “What is that you’re wearing? It smells like burnt amber.”

“That’s because it is, love.”

Shocked, my eyes went to her face. Her voice had dropped several octaves. Adrenaline shook me. I jerked back, only to find a white-gloved hand gripping my shoulder. I froze, unable to move as a ripple of ever-after cascaded over her, revealing Algaliarept. Oh, crap. I was dead.

“Good evening, familiar,” the demon said, smiling to show me flat blocky teeth. “Let’s find a ley line and get you home, hmm?”