"Oh, God," I whispered, my knees going weak as my bare feet found the cold grass. Ivy was with Piscary. Right now.

"Ivy!" I shouted, spinning to head back to the kitchen and my car keys.

"Rachel, no!" Keasley called. He reached for me, falling into a fit of coughing. I leapt to the stairs, jerking back when Ceri took my shoulder.

"She's a vampire," the elf said, eyes snapping in the dim light. "It's a trap. A lure. Al and Piscary are working together. You know it's a trap!"

"She's my friend!" I protested.

"Get into the graveyard," she demanded, pointing as if I were a dog. "We'll deal with this in an orderly fashion."

"Orderly fashion!" I shot at her. "You know what that monster can do to her? Who do you think you are!" I shouted, pushing her hand off me.

Ceri fell back a step. Then her jaw clenched, and I felt her tap a line.

I stiffened. She's going to spell me? "Don't you dare!" I exclaimed, shoving her like we were two girls on the playground fighting over a piece of chalk.

Ceri gasped, falling down on her butt, her eyes wide in shock as she looked up at me with her hair all over the place. My face went red in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Ceri," I said. "She's my friend, and Piscary will screw her up. I don't care if it's a trap; she needs me."

The elf gaped at me, all her skills and magic forgotten in her confusion and affront that I had shoved her down. "Keasley," I said, spinning to find him. "I'll be back—"

My words cut off as I saw him with my cherry red splat gun in his hands. Adrenaline jerked through me, and I froze. "I can't let you knock me down," he said, the gun's alignment unwavering from my chest.

"I might break something," he said, then pulled the trigger, as smooth and unhurried as a waltz.

I tensed to run, but the puff of the escaping air shocked me. "Ow!" I yelped as the stinging sensation hit me square in the chest, and I looked down at the slivers of red plastic.

"Damn it, Keasley," I said, then collapsed, out before my head hit the soft garden soil.

Twenty-five

"Is it supposed to take this long?" came Jenks's voice, buzzing as if from behind my eyes. My shoulder hurt, and I shifted my arm, bringing my hand up to touch it. I was soaking wet, and surprise brought me awake.

Taking a lungful of air, I sat up, my eyes flashing open.

"Ho! There she is," Keasley said, worry in his brown eyes as he backed up and straightened. His leathery face was creased with wrinkles, and he looked cold in his faded cloth coat. The rising sun gave him a hazy glow, and Jenks hovered beside him. Both of them were watching me with concern as I slumped against a tombstone. We were surrounded by pixies, and their giggles sounded like wind chimes.

"You spelled me!" I shouted, and Jenks's kids scattered with squeals. I looked down, realizing it was salt water dripping from my hair, my nose, my fingers, and pooling in my underwear. I'm a freaking mess.

Keasley's age-worn expression eased. "I saved your life." Dropping the plastic five-gallon bucket onto the grass, he extended a hand to help me up.

Avoiding it, I lurched to my feet before the water could seep farther. "Damn it, Keasley," I swore, shaking my dripping hands and disgusted with myself. "Thanks a helluva lot."

He snorted, and Jenks landed atop one of the nearby monuments, the sun glinting prettily through his wings. " 'Thanks a helluva lot,'" he mocked. "What did I tell you? Oblivious, clueless, and bitchy. You should have left her there till noon."

I tried to wring salt water out of my hair, ticked off. It had been almost eight years since anyone had nailed me like this. My fingers froze, and my attention jerked to the rest of the graveyard, misty and golden in the rising sun. "Where's Ceri?"

Keasley bent painfully to tuck a folding chair under his arm. "At home. Crying."

Guilt hit me, and I looked at the graveyard's wall as if I could see his house through it. "I'm sorry," I said, remembering her shocked look when I had shoved her down. Oh, God, Ivy.

I stiffened as if to run, and Jenks got in my face, rocking me back. "No, Rachel!" he yelled. "This isn't some jackass movie. If you go after Piscary, you're going to be dead! You make one move to leave, I'm gonna pix you, then give you a lobotomy. I ought to pix you anyway, you stupid witch! What the hell is wrong with you?"

My urge to run to my car died. He was right. Keasley was watching me with his hand hidden suspiciously in the wide pocket of his jacket. My eyes rose from it to his face, wrinkled with intelligence. Ceri had once called him a retired warrior. I was way past believing her. He had pulled that trigger last night with too much familiarity. If I was going in to get Ivy away from Piscary, I was going to have to plan it.

Depressed, I crossed my arms and leaned against the grave marker. In the distance was a group of about ten people jumping the stone wall to get off the property. I bristled, then relaxed. It was holy ground, and I hadn't been the only one scared.

"Sorry about last night," I said, "I wasn't thinking. It's just…" My mind flashed back to Ivy last year, numb as she lay shaking under her covers, telling me how Piscary had raped her mind and body in an effort to convince her to kill me. My face went cold, and I swallowed my fear. "Is Ceri okay?" I managed. I had to get Ivy away from him.

Dark eyes sharp, Keasley harrumphed as if aware I was still teetering. "Yes," he said, his bent posture shifting to hold his chair more firmly. "She's okay. I've never seen her like this, though. Embarrassed that she tried to stop you using her magic."

"I shouldn't have shoved her." Stiffly I retrieved the radio and my pillow, wet from dew.

"Actually, that was one thing you did right."

The radio thunked into the empty bucket. "Huh?"

Smirking, Jenks took flight, rising forty feet straight up in the time it took my heart to beat. He was doing a surveillance check, bored with the conversation.

Keasley dropped a coffee-stained thermos into the bucket, groaning as he straightened his back. "You knocked her down because she was going to use magic to stop you. If you had reacted with your magic, too? Now, that would have been scary, but you didn't, showing a control she had forgotten to maintain. She's wallowing in shame right now, poor girl."

I stared, not having realized it.

"I'm glad you shoved her," he mused. "She's been getting uppity these last few weeks."

I tucked a strand of dripping hair behind an ear, cold. "It was still wrong," I said, and he patted my shoulder to send the scent of cheap coffee over me. My gaze fell to my new red shirt, the cotton holding the salt water like a sponge. Crap. I'd be lucky if I hadn't ruined it.

Plucking my comforter from where it hung over a tombstone, I gave it a good shake. Dirt and last week's grass clippings flew. It was still warm from having been wrapped about my body, and after draping it over me like a cloak, I squinted in the hazy glare and tried to remember what time the sun rose in July. I was usually asleep at this hour, but I'd been out since midnight. It was going to be a long day.

Yawning, Keasley started to shuffle away with his chair. "I called your mother," he said, reaching into a pocket and handing me my phone. "She's fine. Things should settle down. The radio said Piscary captured Al in a circle and banished him, freeing Mr. Saladan. The damned vampire is a city hero."

He shook his graying head, and I agreed. Freed Lee from Al? Not likely. I tucked my phone into a pocket, awkward because of the damp fabric. "Thanks," I said, then met his dubious expression. "They're working together, aren't they? Piscary and Al, I mean," I said, grabbing everything else and falling into place behind Keasley.