I could imagine. "Her room is on the left," I called after them, not wanting to follow and leave a past U.S. president standing on my porch. Jenks took off from my shoulder, and dusting heavily from indecision, he finally took off after them.

"I'll show you," he said. "This way."

I turned back to Cormel, arms still over my chest. I didn't care if I looked defensive. "Thank you," I said stiffly, thinking I'd give him something more sincere once I found out how messed up she was.

Again the tall man inclined his head. "Thank you."

He said nothing else, and the silence became uncomfortable. Bis twitched his ear, and Cormel's eyes shifted. There was a soft thump from inside the church, then nothing.

"I am going to try to find a way for her to keep her soul after death," I said.

"I know you are." He smiled the smile that saved the world, but I saw beyond it to the monster underneath. I had to keep Ivy from becoming this. It was foul.

I didn't look away from Cormel as the sound of footsteps and pixy wings grew behind me. Standing in the middle of my threshold with my feet spread and my arms crossed, I refused to move as the men brushed past me and went down the cement steps and into the dark. With a last inclination of his head, Rynn Cormel slowly spun on a heel and followed, getting in the first car when one of his men opened the door. Two more doors thumped shut, and they slowly accelerated down the street.

Jenks landed on my shoulder as I exhaled long and loud. "In or out, Bis?" I asked, and the gargoyle launched himself deeper into the church. There was a delighted laugh from the open support beams, and I shut the door, sealing out the night. Jenks's wings were cold, and I decided I'd bake cookies or something to warm up the church.

Feet slow, I went into the sanctuary. Bis was on one of the support beams, three of Jenks's older kids with him. His ears were flat as he tried to decide what to make of them, and it looked sweet as he tried to appear harmless, shifting to a bright white and holding his wings close. Bis didn't come in often, but the entire church had the feeling of closing in, circling the wounded, bracing for a fight.

"Is she okay?" I asked Jenks as I tiptoed into the hall.

"She stinks like vampire" was his opinion. "But her aura looks really thick."

Really thick. Thicker than usual? I mused, not knowing if that was good or bad, sighing as I touched Ivy's closed door in passing. I was glad to have her home. The church felt…almost right.

Just a few more days, I thought as I reached the kitchen and turned the oven on to preheat. Just a few more days, and everything will be back to normal.

But as I looked at the stoppered bottles all lined up and ready to go, I wondered.

Twenty-five

"Oh God. I think I'm going to be sick," I whispered, head bowed over my lap, making my hair drape onto the scrying mirror. The morning chill made me feel ill as it mixed with my nausea, and my hand shook as I pressed it into the cave of the pentagram engraved on the scrying mirror. The ley line spilling into me was still ragged lurches and jumps. Obviously my aura wasn't yet back to normal.

Rachel calling Al, come in, Al, I thought sarcastically, in a last-ditch effort to reach the demon, but as before, he refused to answer, leaving me in this dizzy, uncomfortable morass of existence. I hunched suddenly, as it felt like the world suddenly dropped out from under me. My stomach gave a heave, and I broke the connection before I vomited on the kitchen floor.

"Damn it all to the Turn and back!" I exclaimed, barely above a whisper. Shaking, I curbed my desire to fling the mirror across the kitchen, and instead leaned to shove it roughly away on the open shelves under the island counter. Slumping back in my chair, I stared at the silent room. It was about three in the afternoon. Ivy wasn't up yet, but the pixies were at it, trying to be quiet so as not to wake her. I eyed the open box of cold pizza from last night, and feeling my nausea leave as fast as it had come, I yanked a piece and ate the point. "Crap, this is awful," I muttered, tossing it back in the box. I was too old for this.

It was really quiet. And cold. 'Course, being in my robe didn't help. Rex appeared in the doorway, sitting on the threshold and curling her tail around her feet. Pulling a pepperoni off my abandoned slice, I offered it to her, and the cat padded in, taking it with a finicky precision. "Good kitty," I whispered, giving her ears a little rub after she ate the morsel.

I had way too much to do today to be sitting around in my robe feeding the cat cold pizza, and taking my cup, I refilled it, standing at the sink to look out at the glittering snow. Our perishables, stacked on the picnic table, looked funny, and I sighed.

Tonight was New Year's, and I was shunned. What a nice way to start the year. No wonder, really, if I was considering doing a spell to force a demon to come to me—in a public place. Maybe I should break into a vacant office that overlooked the square. Maybe I am a black witch.

Mood souring, I took a sip of coffee, eyes closing as it slipped down and eased the last of my nausea. Turning, I started, almost spilling my coffee when I found Ivy standing in the doorway in her black silk robe, her arms crossed, watching me.

"Holy crap!" I exclaimed, flustered. "How long have you been there?"

Ivy smiled with her lips closed, her eyes dilating slightly at the pulse of adrenaline I'd probably given off. "Not long," she said, picking up Rex and giving her a cuddle.

"You freaking scared the crap out of me," I complained. And why were you just standing there, watching me?

"Sorry." Dropping Rex, she eased into the kitchen, going to the sink and warming up her coffee mug in a steady stream of hot tap water.

I casually moved back to my chair and sat, trying not to look like I was avoiding her. She didn't look sorry. She looked…gorgeous, her alabaster white skin having a hint of rose. Casual in her black robe, her motions had an unusual edginess to them. Sharp. Obviously her night at Cormel's had done more than save her life.

"How are you feeling?" I asked hesitantly, eyeing the pizza and deciding I couldn't stomach it. "Cormel brought you home about midnight. You, ah, look great."

The gurgle of the coffee as it filled her cup was loud, and she said without turning, "I'm feeling really, really good. Every last itch scratched, every last bubble burst." Her voice was tight and depressed, and she carefully replaced the carafe. "I hate myself. But tomorrow will be better. I took blood from someone to keep from dying. My only consolation was that it wasn't you." Now she turned, and holding her cup high in salute, she added, "Small victories."

I didn't know what to do, seeing her standing at the sink with the island counter between us. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "I don't care what you did. I'm just glad you're okay." But I couldn't bring myself to cross the room and give her a hug. Not yet.

Her eyes dropped to the mug in her hand. "Thank you. We both know the monster is there. No need to have to look at it, right?"

She sounded resigned, and I protested, "Ivy, you're not a monster."

Her gaze flicked to mine, and she looked away. "Then why do I feel so damn good right now? After what I did last night?"

I didn't know the answer. My thoughts went to the brat pack, comparing black magic to chemo treatments. "All I know is that it saved your life, and I'm glad you're okay."

She took her coffee to her computer. Lips pressed in a tight line, she moved two books off her chair and sat before a blank screen. More needed to be said, but I didn't know how to bring it up. I listened for the sound of wings, but Jenks was either in the sanctuary with his kids or being especially quiet in his eavesdropping. "Um, Ivy, I have something to ask you."