“You’re from here?” Rachel spun, her eyes wide as she ran her gaze up and down Peri as if impressed. “Oh, my God,” she said suddenly, long hand to her mouth. “That shifting-of-time thing wasn’t a spell. You’re human.”

Peri’s brow furrowed. “What else would I be?”

Rachel suddenly looked vulnerable as she clasped her arms across her middle. “Ah . . .”

Peri shoved Jack again. “Jack, wake up. It’s not funny anymore.”

Rachel sat down on the front edge of a chair. She looked ill in the candlelight. “Son of a bastard,” she whispered. “You summoned me. And you don’t have a clue how you did it. Crap on toast. I can’t kill you now.”

Peri toed Jack’s ribs. “Jack. Wake up!”

Rachel’s head rose. “Was it him? Did he summon me?” she said, and Peri put up a warning hand when the woman stood, eyes alight.

“Back off,” Peri warned her, and Rachel hesitated, recognizing Peri’s commitment.

“Sorry,” Rachel said. “I didn’t think I hit him that hard.”

“He’s kind of a wimp,” Peri said, surprised at the flash of a smile from Rachel. “But I don’t think it was you. The wine he brought home packs a wallop.” The accelerator was in her pocket, but she no longer thought the woman was after it. Rachel had felt her draft, and she’d gotten into her apartment somehow; maybe this was an Opti test to see how she and Jack were at finding and bringing in new drafters. Damn it, Bill. We’re nowhere near ready to retire.

Rachel reached for the wine. “This is Trent’s label,” she said, lips parted. “His name isn’t on it, but it’s his label.” Her head rose. “This is what you were drinking? Where did you get it?”

“Cincinnati.” Peri didn’t mean to be unhelpful, but that was all she knew.

The woman raised one eyebrow. “Curious,” Rachel said, seeming to find her confidence the more convoluted and mixed-up Peri became. “Okay . . . It’s not Halloween, is it?”

Peri shook her head. “No. It’s the middle of June.”

“Equinox.” Rachel set the bottle down. “Let me guess. You were messing around, summoning a demon. Salt, candles, words of power?”

Peri’s eyes narrowed. “Okay. Fun’s over, Jack,” she said loudly. “Wake up. Time to pay your actor and go to bed.” She stood over him, rolling him over with her foot. There was a red bump on his forehead. Suddenly concerned, she dropped to wedge his eyes open to see if they dilated right.

“I gotta get out of here,” the woman said.

“The door is right there.” Peri reached for her phone. This had gone on long enough, but Opti could pick her up off the street. Jack was fine. He was drunker than a skunk and no help at all, but fine.