"When you open it with a sacrifice."

"Right. But if that's how this portal works, there's probably a special incantation to summon it."

"Let me guess. You don't know the incantation." It figured.

"It's different for every portal, a password known only to the users."

"Who are now all in Faerie," I reminded her. "How am I supposed to get it?"

A sly look came over her tiny, doll-like face. "Perhaps I could figure something out, for the right price."

I narrowed my eyes at the scheming little thing. "Now what?"

She fidgeted, trying to look nonchalant. I thought it was just as well she was too small to do any gambling; with a poker face like that, she'd have been soaked in five minutes flat. "I want a second casting of the rune," she finally blurted out. "In case the first one doesn't result in a child."

I got busy checking out another gun for a moment. I'd been under the impression that we'd already agreed that I'd give her the rune, not just cast it. Maybe the thing was more valuable than I'd thought.

"All right," I said slowly, trying to sound reluctant. "Another casting."

"With no restrictions! Even if I get with child on the first, I still get the second!"

"Agreed."

Radella swallowed. "What kind of help do you want?"

"Whatever is needed." I wasn't about to let her impose conditions, either.

"I knew you'd find a way to talk me into this insanity," she sniped, but her heart clearly wasn't in it.

"Do we have a deal?"

"Oh, you damn well know we do!" I smiled, and she grimaced back. "Don't be so smug, human. You haven't heard my idea yet."

Dante's front entrance is something out of a medieval nightmare, with writhing basalt statues, tortured topiaries and an honest-to-God moat. The front door handles are agonized faces that moan and groan and utter its famous catchphrase, telling all who enter to abandon hope—along with their wallets. But demented decor is expensive, which explains why the back looks more like a modern warehouse, with loading ramps, overripe Dumpsters and a plain chain-link fence surrounding a crowded employee parking lot.

Françoise, Radella, Billy Joe and I landed in Dante's parking lot two weeks in the past. It was still a few hours before the sun, or anyone with any sense, would think about rising. In other words, high noon for the types I needed to see.

Radella's big idea was to go back in time before everyone who knew how to summon the portal left, and get the incantation out of them by whatever means necessary. I had amended that to exclude beatings, knifings or anything likely to result in the total trashing of the timeline. Françoise had added a refinement by mentioning that she could probably erase the short-term memory of anyone except a powerful mage. So we had a plan—we just needed the right guy. And Casanova's predecessor, a slimy operator known as Jimmy the Rat, was my best guess for man in the know.

"Je suis désolée," Françoise said, apparently talking to the bottom of the chain-link fence.

I exchanged looks with the pixie, who merely shrugged. I bent over to get a better look and found myself handcuffed to the fence post. "What the hell?"

Françoise stood back and crossed her arms, regarding me with a fair imitation of Pritkin in a mood. "We weel go. Eet ees too dangerous for you."

"Excuse me?"

"You 'ave not the skill in magique, n'est-ce pas?"

"What's your point?"

"You 'ad to breeng us 'ere; zere was no choice. But you do not 'ave to risk yourself now. We weel talk to thees gangster while you remain where it is safe."

"I can handle Jimmy!"

Françoise didn't answer, but she got this look on her face, like she was perfectly happy to stand in the parking lot for the rest of the night discussing it. I tugged on the cuff, but she must have liberated it from Casanova's storeroom, because it was good-quality steel. All my efforts did was rattle the fence and piss me off.

"Okay," I said. "You go, me stay. Have fun."

"You aren't serious," Billy said incredulously.

"You weel stay right 'ere?" Françoise looked doubtful. Maybe she'd expected me to argue more.

I jangled the fence again for effect. "Do I have a choice?"

"I don't trust her," the pixie said, eyeing me narrowly. "We should stick her in a closet."

"I have a gun," I pointed out.

Radella frowned. "She's right. She could shoot the lock."

"I was thinking of something a little more animated," I told her, not entirely sure I was kidding.

"Eet is for your own good," Françoise said, biting her lip. She suddenly looked uncertain.

Radella snapped her fingers. "We knock her out. Then we stuff her in the closet. A really small one," she added viciously.

Françoise didn't even bother to look at her. "We return soon," she promised, then turned on her heel and strode away.

"Yeah, I'll just wait here like a glorified taxi driver," I called after her. Her shoulders twitched slightly, but I didn't know if that was from shame or from not knowing what a taxi was.

"Okay, that was really—" Billy began.

I held up my free hand. Françoise paused by the back door and looked in my direction. Probably wondering why my hand was hovering in the air. I waved at her and after a minute she and Radella let themselves in through the employee entrance. As soon as the door closed, I shifted two feet ahead. Behind me, the now empty cuff banged against the fencing.

"I forget you can do that now," Billy said.

"So do I, half the time." I rubbed my wrist and looked around. There was no one in sight. It occurred to me that maybe I should have looked before doing my Houdini impression.

"Why didn't you just show them that they were wasting their time?" Billy demanded.

"I figured we might as well get the mutiny phase of our relationship out of the way early." Besides, I didn't think Radella had been kidding about the closet. "Let's go find Jimmy before he sells them the Brooklyn Bridge or some—"

"Speak of the devil," Billy said, as someone who looked an awful lot like Jimmy ran out the back door.

I started forward after a surprised pause, hardly believing my luck. If I could get to him before he reached his car, we could talk without encountering anyone else or possibly being overheard. But then the door slammed open and a blonde ran out, looking around wildly.

"Wait, there's some bimbo with him," Billy cautioned. The blonde caught sight of Jimmy and took off after him, hiking up her low-cut black top as she went. Billy whistled appreciatively. "She's gonna fall right out of that thing if she ain't—"

He stopped abruptly, squinting across the lot, and I did the same, a vague feeling of unease creeping up my spine. The energy-conscious halogen lights didn't help a lot with visibility, but I saw enough to make my stomach fall. "I think we have a problem," I said numbly.

"Hey," Billy said, eyes wide. "I think that bimbo is you! I can tell by the shape of your—"

"Do you realize what this means?" I managed to shriek in a whisper. I hadn't figured out until that moment that I'd brought us back to the night I first saw Dante's—not a time I was real interested in reliving.

"Yeah." He glared at me. "Of all the times to come back to, why in the hell—"

"I didn't do it on purpose," I hissed. "Casanova told me the last shipment of slaves left for Faerie on this night. If we can't get Jimmy to talk, I thought we might overhear the incantation being used!"

"If we were in the right place at the right time, yeah. But this ain't it."

"You think?" My first visit to Dante's hadn't gone well. In fact, it had gone about as spectacularly wrong as humanly possible. There had been too many near misses, too many times that I and a lot of other people could have died had things gone slightly differently. I needed to find the team and get out, fast, before any of us changed anything.