The thin heat from the sidewalk vanished when I turned the corner and entered the shadow of tall buildings. “Where is he?” I said, holding my hair out of my face when I looked to Quen. He was beside and a little behind me, and it gave me the creeps.

The quiet, powerful man pointed with his eyes across the street, and when I followed his gaze, I felt a wash of apprehension. OTHER EARTHLINGS COSTUMER, INC. Holy crap, Trent was picking out a Halloween costume?

I pushed myself into motion and headed for the exclusive costumer. Well, why not? Trent had parties to go to like anyone else. Probably more of them. But Other Earthlings? You needed an appointment just to walk in, especially in October.

Hesitating at the curb, I felt Quen’s presence slide up behind me. “Will you stop guarding me?” I muttered, and Quen made a little start.

“Sorry,” he said, then hastened to catch up when I crossed in the middle of the street. I caught him glancing at the crosswalk and snickered. Yeah, me bad.

After a moment’s hesitation at the brass BY APPOINTMENT ONLY sign, I reached for the door only to have someone from inside pull it open. The doorman looked seriously brain-dead when I entered, but before I could say anything, an older woman in a crisp peach skirt and jacket click-clacked to us, the sound of her heels muffled when they found the thick white carpet. “I’m sorry. We’re closed to walk-ins,” the woman said, her face a mix of cool professionalism and polite disdain at my jeans and sweater. “Would you like to make an appointment for next year?”

My pulse quickened and I cocked my hip at her obvious but unspoken opinion that hell would freeze over before I’d ever have enough money to buy even a complexion charm from them. I took a breath to demand to see their hair straighteners, knowing their claim to be able to straighten any hair wouldn’t be able to touch mine, when Quen settled in behind me, too close for my comfort.

“Oh! You’re with Mr. Kalamack?” she said, only the faintest blush marring the aged whiteness of her complexion.

I glanced at Quen. “Not really. I’m Rachel Morgan, and I’ve got something to say to Mr. Kalamack. I understand he’s here?”

The woman’s mouth dropped open, and she came forward to take my hands. “You’re Alice’s daughter?” she said breathlessly. “Oh, I should have known. You look just like her, or you would if she wouldn’t spell herself down. It is such a pleasure to meet you!”

Excuse me? She was pumping my arm up and down enthusiastically, and when I looked at Quen, he seemed as mystified as me.