“You’re a walking corpse. Al is playing with you. You think your little circle is going to keep you safe?” I said, pointing at the stage. “I’ve circled him every time you sent him to me. It doesn’t matter what you told him to do after I catch him. He’s mine at that point. And what if I send him back to you instead of the ever-after? Huh? How about that? Think you’d enjoy trying to catch him in this little hidey-hole of a pit you’re summoning him into? Or maybe he’ll find you in the shower, or asleep?”

The witch blanched. Behind him, David padded with all the stealth of an alpha wolf to the stairs to protect my escape. Jenks was with him, making me feel doubly secure.

“Didn’t think about that, didja,” I said to knock the precariousness of his situation home. I was a good girl, but I didn’t have to be. I’d sent Al back to his summoner before. “You little pissant,” I said bitterly, not liking that Tom was probably going to make me do it again. “You don’t want to play this game with me. Really, you don’t.”

Tom drew himself up and David tensed. I couldn’t let him think he had the upper hand, and after a look at David to tell him I wasn’t close to being stupid, I got in Tom’s face.

“Stop summoning him,” I said, tapping a line so my hair would float ominously. “If Al shows up to bother me, I’m sending him back, and you’ll be cleaning up more than one person hitting a cement wall. Got it?”

Shaking inside, I turned to leave, glad David had the stairs. “And tell Betty not to expect a check for the damage either. Her insurance doesn’t cover demons.”

Sampson was barking from somewhere as I stomped up the stairs, Jenks a quiet hum before me and David’s steps soft behind. I felt like the cream filling in a cookie, my brain full of fluff and nonsense. What in hell was I doing telling Tom I’d send Al back at him? Tom wouldn’t have a chance. He’d be dead in thirty seconds.

Why am I giving him an ounce of thought? He’s sending Al to kill me.

I got halfway through the sterile house done in pastels and sharp corners before Sampson was at my heels, panting for attention. “Did she buy you because you matched the couch?” I said bitterly, and the little dog yapped, his tail putting out enough motion to power Cincy for a year. Struck by a sudden thought, I hesitated at the front door to look at my high-magic amulet. It was green; he was just a dog.