"Yeah, but she can't kill this one," Jenks grumped.

That was in extremely bad taste, but I ignored him, just delighted to have the cat finally like me. "Don't you listen to them, Rexy," I cooed, and the cat sniffed my nose. "Rachel is a smart girl. She's not going to go out with a ghost no matter how sexy he is. She knows better. Jenkskie wenskie can just get bent." I beamed at Jenks, and he made an ugly face.

"Rache, put my cat down before you mess with her kitty brain."

Smiling, I let Rex puddle out of my arms and onto the floor. She rubbed against me, then sedately walked out. There was a cheering from the pixies up in the sanctuary, and her shadow slunk past the door to hide under the couch in the back living room.

The more agitated Jenks got, the more content I became. Smiling, I washed my hands and dropped a dozen cookies in a bag for Al, tying it with a little blue twist tie before setting them beside the scrying mirror. Seeing me getting ready, Ivy shut down her computer. "I'll get our coats," she said, and Jenks clattered his wings, angry he was going to be left behind.

"I'm doing this by myself," I said suddenly. "Thanks, though."

"Your aura is thin. Put us in a circle and do it here," Ivy said as she stood.

Putting them in a circle really didn't make them any safer. All Al had to do was shove me into it and it would fall. Same thing with standing in a circle with him. And putting Al in a circle alone wasn't going to happen—not since he'd started treating me like a person after I told him I wouldn't circle him anymore. Second-class person, but a person nevertheless.

"Why chance it?" I said, thinking of Jenks's kids. The demon might turn them into popcorn for all I knew. "You can watch from the windows." Coat…in the foyer. "It's not a big deal!" I shouted over my shoulder as I headed for the front door. My boots were there, too. It was four in the freaking morning, the coldest part of the day, and I was going to go sit in a graveyard and talk to Al. Ah-h-h, I love my life.

Ivy caught up with me as I shrugged into my coat. Grabbing my boots, I took a step, jerking back when I almost ran into her. "I'm coming with you," she said, eyes going dark.

I listened for Jenks's wings, and hearing nothing, I whispered, "Don't you dare make Jenks sit in here alone." She clenched her jaw, the brown rim of her eyes shrinking even more. I brushed past her and headed to the kitchen. "I'm just asking for a night off. It's not a big deal!"

"Then why don't you do it in here?" she yelled back, and I stopped at the head of the hall.

Ivy was standing by her piano. The soft glow lights on my desk made a spot of living green with pixies peeking from every nook. "Because I lost it the last time I thought you two were dead, and I'm not going to risk you if I don't have to." Ivy took a deep breath, and I turned away. "I'll be right back," I added as I paced into the kitchen.

Jenks was still atop Ivy's monitor, his wings a blur and his increased circulation making them a bright red. "Jenks, don't look at me like that," I muttered when I dropped my boots to put them on, and as my heels thumped into them, he turned his back on me. "Jenks…," I pleaded, stopping when his wings buzzed. "I'll be okay," I said, and he shifted his head at the harsh sound of my zipper going up.

"This is fairy crap!" he exclaimed, rising up and spinning around. "Green fairy crap—"

"With sprinkles on top," I finished for him as I fumbled for my gloves, jammed in the pockets. "We go through this every week. Either I show up at sunrise or he comes and gets me. Hiding on hallowed ground will only tick him off and then he visits my mom. If I'm lucky, I get the night off. If I'm not, I'll send Bis back in for my things. Okay?"

Jenks hovered before me with his hands on his hips. Ignoring him, I picked up the scrying mirror and my cookies. I knew he hated being trapped by the cold, but I wasn't going to risk his family. He was so good at everything else, why this bothered him was beyond me.

"Bis will be with me," I offered, and when he crossed his arms and turned his back on me, I shouted, "I'll be freaking fine!" and stormed to the back door. What is his problem!

I flicked on the porch light, giving the door a tight pull to get it to latch behind me. Hesitating on the landing, I took a moment to calm myself, taking in how quiet it was out here while I put on my gloves. The moon was riding high above the horizon with an edge so sharp it looked like it could cut paper. My breath steamed, and by the second lungful, I felt the cold all the way to my bones. Even Cincinnati, across the river and distant, seemed frozen. If death had a feeling, this was it.

Still peeved, I crunched down the salted back steps and into the garden, following the same path I'd taken out here last week. There was a good chance that Al wouldn't go for this and I'd find myself sending Bis back in for my overnight bag, giving Al a laugh and me ten additional charms to spell before sunrise tomorrow.

I looked behind me to see the kitchen window plastered with pixies, but Jenks wasn't among them. Guilt slithered out from me for having gone where he couldn't follow, but it wasn't like I was going into a dangerous situation. It was like asking your recruiter if you could skip the run today and rest up. I might get smacked for it, but I wasn't going to die.

"This is so not going to work," I muttered, then stepped over the low wall that separated the witch's garden from the graveyard. The cold seemed to turn to knives in my chest, and I slowed before I froze my nose from breathing too fast. Fatigue was nothing new, and I had all the tricks to stave it off. I could feel the ley line shimmering in my thoughts, but I angled to Pierce's statue instead. I didn't need to be in a line to talk to Al, and the patch of unsanctified ground surrounded by God's grace would keep Al from wandering if he decided to come over.

Pierce's monolith of a kneeling, battle-weary angel was creepy, looking not quite human with its arms too long and its features starting to run from pollution and the poor grade of stone. I'd used this red-colored patch of cement to summon demons three times now, and that I was treating this as almost routine was worrisome.

"Hey, Bis?" I called, then jumped when Bis landed suddenly on the angel's shoulder in a wash of air that smelled like rock dust.

"Holy crap!" I yelped, looking back at the church to see if anyone had noticed my surprise. "How about some warning, dude?"

"Sorry," the late-adolescent, foot-high gargoyle said, his red eyes whirling so fast in amusement that I knew he wasn't sorry at all. His pebbly skin was black to absorb what heat he could from the night, but he could change it, even when he fell into a torporlike state as the sun came up. He'd have more control over his sleep when he got older, but right now, like most teenagers, he was like a rock when the sun came up. He paid rent to Jenks by watching the grounds for the four hours around midnight when pixies traditionally slept. He'd been doing more than that since the temperatures dropped below pixy tolerance. He and Jenks got along great, seeing as Bis had been kicked off the basilica for spitting on people, and Jenks thought that was just fine.

"Why is Jenks mad at you?" he asked as he pulled his wings close, and I winced.

"Because he thinks he has to protect me, and I'm going places he can't," I said. "You can hear us from out here?"

The gargoyle shrugged and looked at the church. "Only when you yell."

Only when we yell. Brushing the snow off the base of the angel statue, I set the cookies down and brought out the mirror.

"Oh, that's ultimate!" Bis said as the wine-and-crystal-colored scrying mirror threw back the moonlight. I looked down at it, feeling the cold right through my gloves. I agreed with him, even though I thought something that called demons should be ugly. This was my second mirror, made with a stick of yew, some salt, wine, a bit of magic, and a lot of help from Ceri. The first one I'd broken over Minias's head when the demon had startled me. Ceri had helped me make that one, too. It was a contact glyph, not a summoning spell, and the double-circled pentagram with its symbols could open a path to the ever-after and any demon I wished to talk to. I didn't need to know their summoning name, just their common one. That, and the word that tapped into the demon's communal magic. Some days I really wished I didn't know the magic word.