It was a lot easier to crush everything this time, not being sick now like I'd been at eighteen. My thoughts went back to Pierce as the soft sounds of rock against rock filled the kitchen, and a whisper of worry lifted through me that tomorrow might be too late. I didn't think Al would give Pierce a body until he had a buyer, enabling him to work the cost of the expensive curse into the deal. Not to mention that Pierce couldn't tap a line given the state he was in. Why would Al make him stronger if he didn't have to? I knew Al wouldn't sell to the first buyer, wanting to up the going price as far as he could. It would take a few days at least.

A curl drifted between me and the mix, and remembering something, I carefully drew a single hair into the mortar and gave the pestle two twists, grinding it before I pulled the hair out. My hair had been to my waist the first time I had done this charm, and it had gotten caught. It might be important. I was betting it was. With this and my spit, I might be investing part of myself in the spell. It was going to be hard enough getting this to work.

I straightened to crack my back. "Holy dust," I murmured, looking for it among the clutter. Jenks's wings hummed and he dropped to hover over the envelope that I'd gathered from the slats under my bed, the only place the pixies didn't clean. It was on sanctified ground, so I figured it was holy enough. And God knew my bed hadn't seen any action lately.

"Thanks," I said absently as I pulled the flap to open it. I wiped the pans of my scales with a tissue, then frowned. A thin smear of lotion showed in the bright overhead lights. Not only would it add aloe, but the dust would stick to it and I wouldn't get enough in the mix.

Sighing, I took the pans to the sink to give them a quick wash. Jenks moved back to the overhead rack, and in the black mirror the window had become, I could see a sifting of dust falling from him. He was worried.

"Ivy is going to be fine," I said over the chatter of running water. "I'll call before I go to bed, to find out how she is, okay?"

"I'm not worried about Ivy, I'm worried about you."

Metal pans swathed in a dish towel, I turned. "Me? Why?" He made an exasperated gesture that encompassed my spelling, and I huffed. "You want Al popping over anytime with the excuse of checking on me and then snagging whoever he wants? Can you imagine the trouble I'd be in if Al showed up and took, say, Trent, when I'm telling the little shoemaker to get lost?"

Jenks's small angular features pulled into a tight grimace. "Al is going to be more pissed than a fairy who finds acorns in his spider sack."

That was a new one, and I frowned as I replaced the pans and weighed out the dust, carefully tapping the envelope until the delicate balance started to shift. "He left a loophole, and I'm going to use it," I said as the instrument leveled. "Al's not taking my calls, and this is the only way I can think of to get his attention. Not to mention, this will save Pierce, too. Two birds with one stone. He'll probably treat me to dinner for outsmarting him." After he smacks me around. I looked up, seeing an unsure look on his tiny features. "What's the worst he's going to do to me? Ground me? Cancel our weekly sessions?" A private smile curved across my face and I tapped the dust from the pan into the wine medium. "Bully for him."

"Rachel, he's a demon. He might just pull you into the ever-after and not let you back."

The fear in Jenks's voice broke through my nonchalance, and I turned to him. "Which is why I told you and Ivy my summoning name," I said, surprised that this was bothering him so much. "He can't hold me even with charmed silver, and he knows it. Jenks, what's the matter? You're acting like there is more to this than there is."

"Nothing."

But he was lying, and I knew it.

The dust turned black when it hit the wine and sank. Jenks flew to the sill and looked out into the snowy garden, only a small patch lit by the back-porch light. All that was left besides invoking the charm was adding the identifying agent—in this case, metal shavings from the back of my dad's watch.

I drew the old pocket watch from my back jeans pocket, hefting the weight and feeling the warmth of my body in the metal. It had belonged to my dad, but it had been Pierce's before that, hence his being pulled from purgatory the night I had tried to make contact with my dad. I turned the watch over to find that the scratches I'd made eight years ago were now tarnished. I tried to remember what I had used to scrape the tiny bits into the spell pot the last time, guessing it had been my mom's scissors.

"It's the thought that counts," I said as I reached for Ivy's pair, jammed into her pencil cup, and scraped a new three marks into the old silver. The almost-unseen shavings made dimples on the wine half of the brew, and I stirred it until they settled. Almost done, and I pulled a warm, and now dry, bottle from the oven and dumped in both the lemon-yew mix and the wine, dust, roots, and holly.

Jenks hovered over it, his expression blank. "It didn't work," he said, and I waved him off before his dust could get in it.

"It's not done yet. I have to add my blood to invoke it, and I can't do that until tomorrow night," I said as I wedged a glass stopper into it and set it aside. Fortunately it was an earth charm and I could do it without tapping a line. He was frowning, and tired of his mood, I asked, "What's your problem, Jenks?"

His face tightened, and he flew to land on the book. Standing sideways to me, he crossed his arms and fumed, wings drooping. Silently I waited. "This isn't going to work," Jenks finally said.

My breath slipped from me, and I turned away, brow furrowed. "Gee, thanks, Jenks."

"I meant with Pierce."

Understanding him now, I straightened after carefully pouring a second portion of wine into the graduated cylinder. "You think I'm cooking up a boyfriend in my kitchen? Grow up."

"You grow up!" Jenks said. "Let's just say he's a nice ghost who needs a little help and is not spying on us for some demon. I know you, Rache. He is a ghost. You're a witch. He needs help, and I'd be willing to bet the first time you met him, he did something strong and powerful. And now he needs help, which turns him into freaking Rachel candy."

I couldn't help a flush from creeping up my face. Okay, maybe once, but I was smarter now. But seeing it, Jenks rose an inch.

"He's Rachel candy. And I don't want to see you hurt when you realize you can't have him."

"You think I'm doing this because I like him?" I said, mentally backpedaling. "It's not always about sex!"

"Then it's a good thing you didn't sleep with Marshal, isn't it."

Silently I reddened, eyes fixed on the wine level. Damn it!

"Tink's titties, Rache!" he exclaimed. "You slept with the guy? When?"

"I didn't sleep with him," I protested, but I couldn't look at him as I sipped the wine to the right amount. "It was just a really involved kiss." In a broad sort of way. Crap, Ford had said Pierce spent a lot of time in the belfry. I sure hoped he hadn't been up there when Marshal and I had—No, Al had abducted him before that.

Jenks landed on the bottle I'd just capped, and with his hands on his hips, he stared disapprovingly at me. "I thought you were going to leave it at friends," he said, then he slumped. "Crap, Rache, can't you just have a guy friend?"

"I did have a guy friend," I snapped, my hair swinging as I dropped the ivy roots and a holly leaf into the mortar and started grinding. "I spent two months doing friend stuff because I thought my life was too dangerous, and I found out that yeah, I can keep it friendly, but I also found out he was a really nice person. Maybe someone I might want to spend my life with. Maybe not. I didn't know I was going to get shunned. Excuse me if I thought I might finally have my freaking life together enough that I could share it with someone other than just you and Ivy!"