Jenks followed me to the table, coming to rest on my cold coffee cup as I swabbed the teak down with a salt water–soaked rag. Apparently teak was spell resistant. I hadn’t known, and it felt really weird to be spelling on it. “Can I help?” he asked, and then a draft sent his dust into the fireplace to flame up with a hiss.

“Ah, sure.” Brow furrowed, I shifted a footstool out of the path of a protection circle. It was inlaid right into the floor, making me wonder about Trent’s mom. This had been her spelling hut, and it was a fairly large circle for most casual users. “Keep an eye on Trent’s aura and let me know if he’s waking up.”

Jenks snorted, and I shot him a look to behave as I settled myself at the table with the hand mirror, bottle of wine, salt from Trent’s stash, and the rest. The charm would temporarily strip me of my aura, which was the reason for the circle. Closing my eyes, I reached out and strengthened my hold on the ley line.

Energy was a jolt instead of the usual calm flow, and my eyes started open. The line was only six feet away, but there was a raw, serrated feel to it that I’d never felt before. I had a bad feeling that it was the mystics and that I’d gotten used to the smooth silk of power that they naturally gave off like a living ley line.

“Okay, let’s get this started,” I muttered, glancing at Trent as I set the protective circle. Jenks was inside it with me, and his wings shifted in agitation as the molecule-thin sheet rose up and around us.

I was reaching for the knife to pare down the yew stick to a proper stylus when the silver bell over the fireplace made a single, beautiful peal of sound.

My heart seemed to stop. I looked to Trent, then Jenks, his dust shifting to an alarmed silver as he turned to that tiny slip of ley line that crossed the hut’s corner.

I spun to a stand. Al! The demon materialized in his green crushed velvet, his nose wrinkled and disdainfully brushing at his coat. “Al!” I almost hissed, still in my circle. Crap on toast, not again! At least he wasn’t drunk this time. “Get out!” I exclaimed softly.

Jenks took to the air when Al seemed to shake his foot free of the line and stepped closer to the fire. His sleeve brushed the edge of my circle and it fell with the sensation of winter snow, our auras being identical thanks to Newt. “I should have guessed you’d be here,” he said, a white-gloved hand reaching for the chrysalis he’d once given me. “Here, collected among that elf’s favorite things,” he finished bitterly.