My hand went out, finding hers. "Ceri—"

She pulled away, apparently thinking I was going to argue with her. Nothing could be further from the truth. "Quen is as noble as any man in my father's court," she said hotly.

"And more honorable than Trent," I said, cutting her argument short. "It's a good decision."

Relief cascaded over her, melting the tension and widening her eyes. She went to say something, then stopped. Steadying herself, she tried again, managing a high, squeaky "Would you like some more tea?"

My cup was full, and I smiled back. "Yes, thank you."

She topped it off, and I took a sip, hearing a new understanding in the cricket-filled silence between us. I knew what it was like to seek that feeling of being wanted—though I was going to play it smart with Marshal, I was the last person to say she should have been stronger. Stronger for what? What was she saving herself for? And I knew Quen would be honest with her. He probably needed an understanding soul as much as she did.

"I saw Quen today," I said, and her expression grew eager, telling me she loved him. "He looks good. Worried about you, I think." God, I felt like I was in high school, but who else did Ceri have to bubble and overflow with? The woman was in love and couldn't tell anyone.

"I'm fine," she said, flustered.

Smiling at seeing her in such a state, I settled back with my tea. I had some time yet before I had to go. Marshal could wait. "Have you given any thought to moving closer to him?" I said. "Trent offered to put you up in his…compound."

"I'm safe here," she said softly, eyes lowered, telling me she had considered it.

"I wasn't thinking about safer," I said, laughing. "I just don't want Quen coming over here all the time. Parking his big-ass limo at the curb. Driving in and out at all hours. Waking me up at sunrise when he beeps his horn for you to come out."

She blushed delicately. "I'm going to stay with Keasley."

My smile faded, and though I didn't want her to leave, I said, "You could both go."

"Jih and her new husband…," she protested, but I could see her desire to be closer to Quen.

"I bet Trent would let pixies in his garden if you asked," I said with a smirk, imagining the man covered in them. "Quen is trying to convince Trent how good pixies are at detecting intruders." Brand-new gargoyle in our eaves aside. "And Trent is trying to impress you, even if he's as ignorant as a duck." Her eyebrows were high in speculation, and I added, "He insists he's going into the ever-after to get that tissue sample."

"He can do more good in his lab," she said caustically.

"That's where he belongs," I agreed, taking a sip of tea. "Little mouse burger."

Ceri's eyebrows went up, and she lost her stiff, formal stance. "I'm safe here," she reaffirmed. "Nothing will harm me or Keasley. I have defenses that I can raise in an instant."

I didn't doubt it, but demons were able to pop in anywhere but holy ground. "There's Al to think about," I added. "He's gone rogue. Ivy told you, yes?"

She nodded, eyes on the distant vines, and I felt a frown come over me. "Someone has summoned him out of confinement and let him go three nights in a row," I said sourly. "David is checking the incoming claims to see if it's someone local out to get me, or if it's just Al giving some nameless idiot a wish per night to let him go." My lips pressed together and I thought of Nick. My gut said no, and I was going to believe that.

"He tried to kill me last night," I said. "While I was shopping with my mom."

"K-Kill you?"

My attention swung back at her faint stutter. "He says he's got nothing to lose, so he's not going to hold to his agreement to leave me or my kin alone." I hesitated. "Does that mean I can teach anyone how to spindle line energy?" Demon immunity for keeping our mouths shut had been the deal.

"He said he wasn't going to hurt you," she said, looking rightly frightened. "I mean, they aren't going to let him get away with breaking his word, are they? Did you call Minias?"

I let out a puff of air, not eager for the bill from the charm shop to hit my desk. "I didn't have to. He showed up and chased him off," I said, wondering whether, if I asked, if she would come over and sleep in the sanctuary until they found a way to contain Al. "Minias doesn't even care that Al's breaking his word. He's only upset that he's slipping their cell. They pulled Minias off babysitting Newt and put him on demon-catching detail." I looked up, seeing an almost panicked look on her face.

"It's not that Al's breaking his word that's got them in a tizzy," I said. "It's that he's escaping. Minias expects me to exchange names with Al so he can't be summoned out of confinement."

"Rachel, no!" she cried, shocking me as she reached across the table. "You can't!"

I blinked, surprised. "I wasn't planning on it, but if I can't find out who is summoning Al and letting him go, it might be the only way to get my nightlife back."

Ceri drew away, her hands clasped in her lap, sitting very straight.

"Why in the Turn's sake would I take Al's name when all I have to do is kick some demon-summoner's ass?" I muttered, and her narrow shoulders relaxed.

"Good," she said, seemingly embarrassed at her strong outburst. "You don't need to deal with them. I'll help you if you need it. Don't go to the demons even if you need to exchange names with Al. I'll find the curse for you."

Curse. Yeah, it would be a curse I needed to save my neck again. I was really going to have to put some effort into getting Al's get-out-of-jail-free card away from him. "I can't believe they put him in jail just for letting you live knowing how to spindle line energy," I mused, taking a sip of tea and startling myself when it wasn't coffee. "Stripped him of his accumulated potions. Everything. No wonder he wants me dead."

"If it got out, it would limit their pool of familiars," she mumbled, obviously wanting to drop the subject.

"Yeah, well, he's got someone cooking spells for him. He was his usual crushed-green-velvet self. I swear, if it's Nick, I'm going to kick his butt back off the Mackinac Bridge. That is, if Al hasn't chewed it off him by then. That demon is going to kill me if I'm not careful."

"No," Ceri rushed. "Al wouldn't. It's got to be a bluff. He said—"

Her words cut off and my focus sharpened on her suddenly distressed, almost panicked features. My runner training kicked in, and my heart pounded. "He said." Ceri had talked to him? To Al?

"You?" I stammered, scrambling to my feet. "You're summoning him?"

"No!" she protested, her face going whiter. "Rachel, no. I'm only making appearance charms for him. Please. Don't be angry."

Aghast, I tried to find words. "He's been loose every night for three days, and you never told me!"

"He said he wouldn't attack you!" she said, standing. "I thought you were safe. He can't attack you! He promised."

"He did attack me," I shouted, not caring if the neighbors heard me. "He's going to freaking kill me because he's got nothing to lose. And you're making him curses?"

"It's a good deal!" she shot back. "For every thirteen, he takes a day's worth of smut off of me. I've already lightened my soul by a year."

I stared at her. She was voluntarily making Al curses? "Well, merry freaking good for you," I snapped.

Her face flashed red in anger. "It's the only moral way I can get rid of the smut," she said, the loose strands of her hair starting to float. "He promised me he wouldn't go after you." Her eyes widened, and she put a hand to her upper chest, her mood shifting like a kite. "They want you to help capture him? Rachel. Don't say yes. No matter what they offer. If Al has gone rogue, he will be as slippery and devious as a stingray. You can't trust him now!"

Like I ever have? "I can't trust him now?" I exclaimed. "What kind of game is this when the rules keep changing!"