Ceri’s rasp of incoming breath was harsh and quick. “No,” I said, touching the woman’s shoulder in support. “I’m going alone.” Jenks bristled, and I leaned over him. “I’m going alone!” I exclaimed. “I couldn’t have gotten the sample without you, Jenks, but this is different. And you taking on a bucket of smut so you can hold my hand while I do this isn’t going to happen. Don’t you get it!” I almost shouted, starting to shake. “Until I met the two of you, I worked alone, even when I did have backup. I’m damn good at it, and I’m not going to put you in danger if I don’t need to, so drop it!”

For a moment, Jenks said nothing, his fists on his hips as he pressed his lips together and frowned up at me. From the window came a high-pitched hush for someone to be quiet. “So how much is your life worth, Rache?” he asked.

I turned away so he couldn’t see my eyes. “I killed Kisten,” I said. “I’m not going to risk either of you.” My jaw clenched, and the hurt swelled. I had killed Kisten—maybe not directly, but it had been my fault.

Ivy’s feet scuffed the linoleum, and Jenks went silent. I couldn’t love anyone without putting them in danger. Maybe this is why Dad told me to work alone.

Ceri touched my arm, and I sniffed back the misery. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, but Ivy’s and Jenks’s silence said different.

“I know how to do this,” I said, shoving the pain down. “I was summoned out—like a demon. I can kindle demon magic—like a demon. I have a name registered in their database—like they all are. Why can’t I just claim Trent as mine and bring him home? I know he’d go along with it.”

“Oh for the sweet humpin’ love of Tink!” Jenks shouted, and even Ivy looked discomfited. Ceri, though, put her elbows on the table and dropped her chin into her cupped palm with a thoughtful look on her face. It was the first hint of hope, and my hands grew damp.

“You can’t jump through the lines,” she said, as if that were the deciding factor. “How will you get there?”