I swallowed hard. My fingers looked pale as I put them on the text, running down to find the incantation. It was in Latin, but I knew the translation. “Some to you, but all to me,” I whispered. “Bound by ties made so by plea.”

“Pars tibi, totum mihi,” Al said, grinning. “Vinctus vinculuis, prece fractis.”

My fingers started shaking. “Moon made safe, ancient light made sane. Chaos decreed, taken tripped if bane.”

“Luna servata, lux sanata. Chaos statutum, pejus minutum. Go on. Finish.”

There was only one line left. One line, and the spell would be complete. Nine words, and my life would be a living hell whether I was on this side of the lines or not. I took a breath. Then another. “Lee of mind,” I whispered. My voice trembled, and it was getting harder to breathe. “Bearer of pain. Slave until the worlds are slain …”

Al’s grin widened and his eyes flashed black. “Mentem tegens, malum ferens,” he intoned. “Semper servus. Dum duret—mundus.”

With an eager impatience, Al pulled his gloves from his hands and plunged his hands into the vat. I jerked. A twang reverberated through me, followed by gut-wrenching dizziness. Black and smothering, the charm wrapped about my soul, numbing me.

Red-knuckled hands dripping, Al steadied himself against the counter. A shimmer of red cascaded over him, and his image blurred before settling. He blinked, seemingly shaken.

I took a breath, then another. It was done. He had my aura for good—all but what my soul was desperately trying to replace to insinuate between my being and Al’s aura still coating me. Maybe in time it would get better, but I doubted it.

“Good,” he said, tugging his sleeves down and wiping his hands off on a black towel that had appeared in his grip. White gloves materialized, hiding his hands. “Good and done. Capital.”

Ceri cried softly, but I was too drained to even look at her.

My cell phone chirped from my bag on the far counter, sounding absurd.

The last of Al’s fleeting disquiet vanished. “Oh, do let me answer,” he said, breaking the circle as he went to get it.

I shuddered as I felt a slight pull from my empty center as the energy went back through Al and into the line it originated from. Al’s eyebrows were high in delight when he turned with my cell phone in his gloved hand. “I wonder who it is?” he simpered.

Unable to stand any longer, I slipped to the floor, my back to the counter as I hugged my knees. The vent air was warm on my bare feet, but my damp jeans soaked up the cold. I was Al’s familiar. Why was I even bothering to keep the air moving in and out of my lungs?

“That’s why they take your soul,” Ceri whispered. “You can’t kill yourself if they have your will.”

I stared, only now understanding.

“Hello-o-o-o?” Al purred, leaning against the sink, the pink cylinder looking odd against his old world charm. “Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos! What a delight!”