My next snarl died, and I steeled my face to show no emotion. I glanced down at myself, then back at him. He thought I was Al in disguise?

A slow smile came over my face, which seemed to scare them more than my anger had. If they thought I was Al, they were going to let me out. After all, I had to go kill myself. “Let me out,” I said softly, still smiling. “I won’t hurt you.” Much.

My voice had been low, but inside, I was seething. The FIB wanted proof that Tom was sending Al to kill me? Okay. I was willing to bet I was going to get it. Seeing me calmer, Tom bowed, still looking stupid. No wonder Al got off on being summoned. This was sickening.

“As you will,” the man said. “We have everything you demanded.” He gestured, and two of the men peeled off and went to the back room that I’d never looked into. “I apologize for the delay. We had an unexpected interruption last night.”

“The animal control people? How pathetic,” I said, and Tom paled. I smiled, enjoying watching him squirm. Al was right. Information was power.

“There won’t be any more delays,” Tom stammered, his underlings whispering among themselves. “Once you show us the curse, you may go.”

You may go, I thought, stifling an angry snort. I’m going to go put my foot right up your ass, that’s where I’m going to go.

The conference table had a drape of red velvet on it, but I hadn’t noticed the three nasty knives, the head-size copper pot, or the three candles until the two outermost guys had left. The pot and candles were ominous enough, but the knives made my gut clench. They had everything but the goat. Nervous, I plucked the damp cuffs from my wrist as I had seen Al do with lace. My eyebrows rose when I realized the band of charmed silver was gone, and I reached for a line, finding it. Thank you, God.

“You don’t care that I’m going to go murder one of your own?” I asked, fishing for the incriminating words.

“Rachel Morgan?” A hint of disgust crept into Tom’s voice. “No. I thought you appeared as her again to taunt me. Kill her and I’ll get a raise.”

Son of a bastard… Anger burned, and I pointed at him, my scraped palm on my hip. “I showed up as her because she’s better than you, you puking, stinking excuse for a witch!” I shouted, then drew back when the circle hummed a warning.

“We are unworthy,” Tom said sullenly.

Yeah, like I really believed he thought that.