“Wait! Wait. I forgot my magic stone,” he said as he dug in his pocket, and, giggling, the man capable of killing a person in three seconds dropped the crystal into his glass, the blood from his fingers staining the wine a faint pink. “Abracadabra!” Jack exclaimed, taking a sip and lurching backward, arms pinwheeling as he lost his balance. “Whoops!”

Peri saluted him, choking on her drink when the lights went out. Eight feet away, the TV popped and went dark. Carnac leapt from her, claws digging deep. “Ow!” she shouted, her mind suddenly clear. “Stupid cat!” The apartment was dark, lit only by the ambient light from the city.

“Very funny, Jack,” she said, waiting for his evil chuckle and possibly a nuzzle on her neck. He wouldn’t tease her forever.

But Jack’s voice was concerned, not playful, when his shadow moved, setting his glass down on the nearby table. “We lost power. Looks like it’s just our building, though. Hold on. I’ll get the flashlight.”

Peri settled back in the cushions, content to let him stumble about, wondering if she should light a candle. The lighter was right there.

“Ow!” Jack exclaimed from the kitchen, and she cocked her head at his apparent affront. “Peri? Hey! What the fuck, woman?”

Peri froze when an unfamiliar voice echoed in their apartment, feminine but hard. “No one summons me,” the voice said. “No one. And not when I’m out with Trent!”

Peri sat up at a thud and crash. Jack groaned, and Peri slid to the floor so her silhouette wouldn’t show against the lighter windows. “Do you have any idea what it takes to get four hours alone with Trent?” the woman said, and Peri tensed when the shadow turned to her.

The hazy lassitude of the wine soured in her gut. Someone is in our apartment. Someone followed us? “Jack?” she whispered, her thoughts going to the accelerator, just sitting in his wineglass on the table.

“And you,” the intruding woman said, her shapely curves obvious against the glittering skyline as she moved forward. “You I’m going to pull inside out. How did you get my summoning name?”

Emboldened, Peri stood, not liking that she had no shoes on. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m going to light a candle,” she said. “Don’t move.”

The shadow gestured, hand going to her hip in impatience, and, fingers steady, Peri lit one of her candles, then another. Her eyes flicked to the chipped glass on the coffee table. It still held the accelerator, and, brow furrowed, Peri looked at the woman standing in front of her in a tight, glittery black-sequined clubbing dress. She had long red hair, frizzy and free about her shoulders, and was tall, looking like a Viking Wonder Woman in heels, her makeup tastefully applied to accent her cheekbones and wide eyes. A rival agent wouldn’t wear that to a task.