Though my mom was hundreds of miles away by now, my room still smelled like her light lavender perfume, wafting up from the dusty boxes stacked where Robbie had left them beside my bed. It had been nice of him to bring them all in while Mom showed me the brochure of the apartment she had waiting for her in Portland.

Kneeling beside my bed, I pulled the top box to me, reading my adolescent scrawl before I shoved the box aside to take to the brat pack at the hospital later. The moving van had shown up at my mom's house yesterday, and I was tired of packing peanuts and bubble wrap, depressed by all the good-byes. Mom and Robbie had brought the last of my things over early this afternoon, waking me up and taking me out for a bon voyage breakfast at an old-lady eatery, since by Robbie's guess her kitchen was already in Kansas. I think we got bad service because of my shunning, but it was hard to tell unless your waitress wrote BLACK WITCH on the back of your napkin. It didn't matter. We weren't in any hurry. The coffee sucked dishwater, though.

Robbie had been in a good mood because he'd paid for the moving van. Mom had been in a good mood because she had some excitement in her life. I was in a bad mood because she wouldn't have had to do this if I hadn't gotten shunned. It didn't matter that my mother had been apartment hunting since getting back from visiting Takata. She was moving because of me. Robbie and my mom had probably landed by now, and all that remained of them in Cincinnati were six boxes, her new fridge in my kitchen, and her old Buick out front.

Melancholy, I pulled new tape off an old box, peeking inside to find my dad's old ley line stuff. Making a pleased sound, I stood and hoisted the box onto a hip to take it to the kitchen.

The pixies were noisy up front in the sanctuary as I made my way to the back of the church, and I didn't even bother to turn on the lights as I shoved the box on the center counter. In the corner, the little blue lights on my mom's fridge glowed. It had a through-the-door ice dispenser, and Ivy and I had been thrilled when she gave it to us. The pixies had taken all of six seconds to discover that if three of them hit the ice dispenser together, they'd get a cube, which they then used like a surfboard to skate around the kitchen floor. Smiling at the memory, I left the box and went back to my room. I'd unpack it later.

The entire back part of the church had a chill air about it that couldn't all be blamed on the late hour. Ivy being out might account for some of it, but most was because we had inherited my mom's space heater along with half her attic. The electric heater was going full tilt up front, and the pixies were enjoying a hot summer evening in January, but since the thermostat for the entire church was in the sanctuary, the heat hadn't clicked on in hours. It was cool away from the reach of the space heater, making me shiver in my still-tender skin. Coffee would be nice, but since having that grande latte...raspberry...thing, nothing seemed to taste good anymore.

Thoughts of cinnamon and raspberry dogged me back to my room, and I pulled the tape from the next box to find music I'd forgotten I ever had. Pleased, I shoved the box into the hall to go through with Ivy later.

Ivy was doing well, having borrowed my mom's Buick after sundown to go talk to Rynn Cormel. I didn't expect her back until after sunrise. She had told him about the oubliette last week, how Denon had been Art's ghoul set to watch her until she quit the I.S., and how Art had died. I hoped she'd kept quiet about how her aura had protected me when I pulled on a line so hard that it melted stone, but I bet she'd told Rynn Cormel that, too. Not that I was embarrassed or anything, but why advertise to the city's master vampire that you can do that sort of thing?

Had it surprised me that her aura could shield my soul? I'd never heard of such a thing before, and a search on the Internet and in my books yielded nothing, but since our auras had blended the last time she had bitten me...I wasn't surprised-I was scared. There was the potential here to find a way to reunite her mind, body, and soul after her first death. I just didn't see how yet. Kisten had his soul when he died that second time. I knew it. What I didn't know was if it was me and our love for each other, or if it had been because he had died twice in quick succession, or if it had been something completely different. It wasn't worth risking Ivy's soul to find out. Just the thought of her dead terrified me.

A third unmarked box turned out to be more stuffed animals, and I sat back on my heels as my fingers went to pick one up. My smile became sad, and I brushed the unicorn's mane. This one was special. It had graced my dresser for most of my high school years. "Maybe I'll keep you, Jasmine," I whispered, then I straightened at a zing of adrenaline.

Jasmine. That was her name! I thought, elated. That was the name of the black-haired girl I'd hung around with at Trent's dad's make-a-wish camp. "Jasmine!" I whispered, excited as I held the stuffed animal close and smiled with a bitter happiness. The toy made a small spot of warmth against me. I remembered it covering a much larger area when I was younger. Happy, I stretched to set it next to the giraffe on my dresser. I'd never forget again.

"Welcome home, Jasmine," I whispered. Trent had wanted to know Jasmine's name as much as I had, having had a crush on her and nothing to remember her by. Maybe if I told him her name, he might tell me if she'd survived-once he looked her up in his dad's records.

I ought to try to mend that fence, I thought, rummaging to find a toy that didn't have a name or face associated with it that I could take to Ford and Holly. I knew he'd appreciate something to distract and help socialize the young banshee. The two of them were doing great the last time I'd called, though Edden wasn't happy about Ford taking sick days or setting up a nursery in the corner of his office. Not to mention the potty chair in the men's room.

I grinned. Edden had ranted for an entire fifteen minutes about that.

Pulling out the elephant named Raymond and the blue bear named Gummie that had nothing but happy memories associated with them, I set them aside, folding the box closed and setting it atop the other box to take to the hospital. My aura was just about back to normal, and I really wanted to see the kids. The girl in the red pajamas, especially. I needed to talk to her. Tell her the chance was real. If her parents would let me, that is.

I held my breath against the dust as I hoisted the two light boxes, nudging my door open with a foot and taking them to the foyer. The pixies chorused a cheerful hello as I entered the sanctuary, and Rex darted through the cat door to the belfry stairway, spooked when I dropped the boxes on top of the one already there. Her head poked back through the door, and I crouched and extended my hand.

"What's up, Rex?" I crooned, and she came out, tail high as she sedately made her way to me for a little scritch under her chin. She'd been in the foyer when I brought the first box in, too.

The hum of pixy wings pulled our attention up. "Toys for the kids?" Jenks said, his wings a bright red from sitting under the full-spectrum light I had put in my desk lamp.

"Yup, you want to come with me and Ivy when we take them?"

"Sure," he drawled. "I might raid the witch's floor for some fern seed, though."

I harrumphed as I stood. "Be my guest." It was harder to get stuff now that I was shunned, and Jenks was already planning out a third more garden space to compensate for it. There was the black market, but I wasn't going there. If I did, then I'd be saying I agreed with what they'd labeled me as, and I didn't.

Rex went to stand under my coat, and I hesitated when she stood on her hind legs to pat the pocket. My eyebrows rose, and I looked at Jenks. I'd chased her out of the foyer twice now.

"Is one of your kids in there?" I asked Jenks, then jumped for the cat when her nails hooked the felt and started to pull. Her claw disengaged when I scooped her up, but I had to drop her when her back claw dug into my arm. Tail bristled, she ran for the back of the church. There was a brief shout from Jenks's kids, and then disappointment. Having the sanctuary warmer than the rest of the church was better than putting them in a bubble.

Jenks was laughing, but when I pushed my sleeve up, I found a long scratch. "Jenks," I complained. "Your cat needs her nails trimmed. I said I'd do it."

"Rache, look at this."

I tugged my sleeve down, head coming up to find Jenks hovering before me with a blue something in his hands. If I hadn't known better, I would have said it was a little bambino, wrapped up in a blue blanket by the way Jenks was carrying it. "What is it?" I asked, and he dropped it into my waiting hand.

"It was in your pocket," he said, landing on my palm, and we looked at it together in the light coming from the sanctuary. "It's a chrysalis, but I don't know what species," he added, nudging it with his booted toe.

My confusion cleared, and I took a breath, remembered Al curling my fingers around it on New Year's Eve. "Can you tell if it's alive?" I asked.

Hands on his hips, he nodded. "Yup. Where did you get it?"

Jenks flew up as my fingers closed over it and I started for the kitchen to wash my scratch. "Uh, Al gave it to me," I said as we passed through the sanctuary and into the cooler hall. "He was making little blue butterflies out of snow, and this was the only thing that survived."

"Tink's a Disney whore, that is the creepiest thing I've seen since Bis got stuck in the downspout," he said softly, his wings a soft hum in the dark.

I thunked the lights on in the kitchen with my elbow, and not knowing what to do with it, I set it on the windowsill. "Didn't see Ivy's last date, huh?" I asked as I turned on the taps and grabbed the soap. The window was black, throwing back a skewed vision of myself and Jenks.

Rex jumped up onto the counter, and I splashed her when she reached for the chrysalis.

"No! Bad kitty!" Jenks shouted to make the cat leap for the floor, and arm dripping, I set one of Mr. Fish's oversize brandy snifters upside down over it. Mr. Fish was still in the ever-after, and if he was dead when I got back there, I was going to be pissed. It had been a week now because of my thin aura. At least that's what Al was saying. Personally, I think he was breaking in Pierce and didn't want me around, mucking things up.

"Jenks, she's just being a cat," I said as the pixy scolded the orange ball of unrepentant fur. She stared lovingly up at her pixy master, licking her chops and twitching the tip of her tail.

"I don't want her to eat it!" he said, rising to be even with me. "She might turn into a frog or something. Tink's knickers, it's probably full of black magic."

"It's just a butterfly," I said, drying my arm and pulling the sleeve back down.

"Yeah, with fangs and a thirst for blood, for all you know," he muttered.

I scooped up the cat and fondled her ears, wanting to be sure that we were still friends. Rex hadn't been watching me from doorways all week, and I kind of missed it. The more I thought about it, the more I believed I had played right into Al's plans. Pierce would want a body, and Al could give it to him. I could easily imagine that the two had come to an agreement, body for servitude. Win-win all the way around. Al got a useful familiar, Pierce got a body and a chance to see me once a week. And knowing Pierce, he thought he'd find a way to slip Al's leash eventually, leaving me in the middle to suffer the fallout. I'd be willing to bet most of Al's bluster and anger at me for snatching Pierce had been an act. I had freaking made the charm that he corrupted to make the curse work.

That Pierce was now in Tom Bansen's body was just squeamy. Even worse, he'd done it to himself. No wonder his plight wasn't hitting any of my rescue impulses. Stupid man. I'd find out what happened come Saturday and my stint with Al.

The faint tingling of Rex's bell caught my interest, and I looked at the pretty thing before letting her slip to the floor. My eyes widened at the pattern of loops and swirls that made up its shape. It looked exactly like the bell Trent had found in the ever-after. I'd never noticed before. "Ah, Jenks?" I questioned, not believing it. "Where did you get this bell?"

He was on top of my dad's box of stuff, trying to wedge it open. "Ceri gave it to me," he said, puffing. "Why?"

I took a breath to tell him where it had come from, then changed my mind. "No reason," I said, letting Rex slip from me. "It's really unique, is all."

"So, what's in the box?" he asked, giving up and putting his hands on his hips.

I smiled and crossed the kitchen. "My dad's charms. You should see some of this stuff."

As Jenks and I talked, I brought out wrapped gadgets and utensils, laying them down for him to unwrap. Jenks buzzed around in the cupboards to find nooks and crannies, his wings slowly losing their red tint to become their normal grayish hue. He was better than a flashlight for seeing what was at the back of a cupboard.

"Hey, Jenks," I said as I set a box of uncharmed ley line amulets and pins at the back of my silverware drawer. "I'm, uh, really sorry about pasting you against my bathroom mirror with sticky silk."

The pixy flashed red, the dust slipping from him mirroring his embarrassed color. "You remember that, huh?" he said. "It sure made the decision easy to down you with that forget charm." He hesitated, then added softly, "Sorry about that. I was only trying to help."

The box was empty, and not seeing Ivy's scissors, I ran my ceremonial knife along the tape lines to collapse the box so the rani of recycling wouldn't yell at me. "It's okay," I said as I wrestled the thing flat. "I've forgotten about it already. See?" I quipped.

Tired, I tucked the box in the pantry and began sorting the remaining charms. Jenks landed beside me, watching. The sound of his kids was nice. "I'm sorry about Kisten," Jenks said, surprising me. "I don't think I said that yet."

"Thanks," I said, grabbing a handful of spent charms. "I still miss him." But the pain was gone, burned to ash under the city, and I could move on.

The old spells went into my dissolution vat of salt water, making a soft splash. I missed Marshal, too. I understood why he'd left. He hadn't been my boyfriend, but something more-my friend, one I'd really messed up with. Doing a power pull with him made the entire situation look worse than it really was.

I held nothing against him for leaving. He hadn't betrayed me by walking away, and he wasn't a coward for not sticking around. I'd made a very large mistake by getting shunned, and it wasn't his responsibility to fix it. I didn't expect him to wait for me until I did. He hadn't said he would. He was rightfully ticked at me for screwing up. If anything, I'd betrayed him, breaking his trust when I told him I could keep everything under control.

"Rache, what does this one do?" Jenks said as he messed around with the last charm I'd left on the counter.

Finding my keys in my bag, I came closer. "That one detects strong magic," I said, pointing out the rune scratched on it.

"I thought that's what that one does," he said as I wedged it on my key ring beside my original bad-mojo, or rather, lethal-amulet, detector.

"This one detects lethal magic," I explained, flipping the original earth-magic amulet and letting it drop. "The one from my dad detects strong magic, and since all lethal magic is strong, it will do the same thing. I'm hoping it won't set off the security systems at the mall, like the lethal amulet does, since they're both ley line based. I'm going to take them shopping and see which works best."

"Gotcha," he said, nodding.

"My dad made it," I said, feeling closer to him as I dropped my keys back in my bag. The charm was over twelve years old, but because it had never been used, it was still good. Better than batteries. "You want some coffee?" I asked.

Jenks nodded, and a chorus of pixy shouts pulled him into the air. I wasn't surprised when the front bell rang. The pixies were better than a security system.

"I'll get it," Jenks said, darting away, but before I could do more than get the coffee grounds out, he was back. "It's a delivery service," he said, slipping a thin trace of silver pixy dust as he came back in. "You need to sign for something. I can't do it. It's for you."

A pang of fear slipped into me, and vanished. I'd been shunned. It could be anything.

"Don't be a baby," Jenks said, instinctively knowing my warning flags had been tripped. "Do you have any idea of the penalty for sending a bad charm through the mail? Besides, it's from Trent."

"Really?" Interested now, I flicked on the coffeemaker and followed him out. A bewildered human was standing on my doorstep in the light from the sign overhead. The door, gaping open, was letting out the heat, and pixies were darting in and out on dares.

"Stop it! Enough!" I called, waving them back inside. "What's wrong with you?" I said loudly as I took the pen and signed for a thickly padded envelope. "You all act like you were born in a stump."

"It was a flower box, Ms. Morgan," one of Jenks's kids said merrily, perched on my shoulder, out of the cold night and nestled in my hair.

"Whatever," I muttered, smiling at the confused man and taking the package. "Everyone inside?" I asked, and when I got off a round of counting up to fifty-something, I shut the door.

A good dozen of Jenks's kids braved the chill of the kitchen, curiosity winning out over comfort, and they all wove in and out before me in a nightmare of silk and high-pitched voices that scraped along the inside of my eyelids. It wasn't until Jenks made that awful screech with his wings that they quit. Nervousness hit me as I tossed the manila-wrapped package on my spot at the table to deal with later. I'd wait until Ivy got home so she could pick me up off the floor when the joke charm Trent had sent me exploded in my face.

Arm around my middle, I got my Vampiric Charms mug out of the cupboard. I hadn't had a good cup of coffee in a week. Not since the last one at Junior's. I wanted another one, but was afraid to go back. Not that I remembered what it was, anyway. Cinnamon something.

Jenks buzzed close, then away. "You going to open it?" he prompted as he hovered over the table. "It's got bumps inside."

I licked my lips and looked askance at him. "You open it."

"And get blasted by whatever nasty elf charm he put in there?" he said. "No way!"

"Elf charm?" I turned around, curious. Crossing the kitchen, I dug my keys out of my bag, watching the heavy-magic amulet glow a faint red. The lethal one was quiet, though. Interested, I waved the pixies off it. It wasn't lethal...but still.

"Open it, Rache! Tink's tampons!"

The coffeemaker finished with a hissing gurgle, and enduring the complaints of twenty-some pixies, I smiled and poured myself a cup. I took a careful sip as I brought it to the table, frowning. Maybe I could get some raspberry syrup to put in it the next time I was at the store.

Pixies clustered on my shoulders, shoving each other as I used my ceremonial knife, still out on the counter, to cut the brown envelope open. Not looking inside, I angled the envelope and cautiously shook whatever it was out and away from me.

"It's a rope!" Jenks exclaimed, hovering over it, and I peeked inside the envelope to make sure there wasn't a note. "Trent sent you a rope? Is that a joke?" he said, looking so angry that his kids started to back off, whispering. "To hang yourself with, maybe? Or is it an elven version of getting a horse head in your bed? It's made out of horsehair."

I cautiously picked up the short length of rough rope, feeling the knotted bumps. "It's probably made from his familiar," I said, remembering Trent once telling me that his familiar was a horse. "Jenks," I said, heart beating fast. "I think it's a Pandora charm."

Immediately Jenks lost his anger. From behind us, I heard a rumble and chunk of an ice cube dropping onto the floor, and his kids swarmed it. Rex appeared at the doorway and hunched down, watching Jenks's kids push and shove to be the first five on the long cube of ice. Wings going in tandem, they shot across the floor, under the table, and around the island. Pixy squeals rose high, and they all flew off an instant before the cube hit the wall, out of control.

"He just gave it to you?" Jenks said as he landed beside me, kicking it. "Are you sure that's what it is?"

"I think so," I said, not sure what to make of it. "You undo the knots, and a memory returns." I picked it up, looking at the gray strand knotted with complex figures that reminded me of the sea. I'd be willing to bet Trent had made it himself. I could feel the rising tension of wild magic, making a quiver in me as it tickled my compromised aura. Or maybe elf magic always felt that way.

Jenks looked from the black-and-silver strand of knotted rope to me. "You gonna do it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know what memory it's for."

"Kisten's murder," he said confidently, but I shook my head.

"Maybe." I ran the string through my fingers, feeling the bumps like notes of music. "It might be something about my dad, or his dad, or the make-a-wish camp."

Carefully, I set it down. I didn't want to know what memory was there. Not yet. I'd had enough of memories. I wanted to live for a while without them, dealing with the present without the hurt of the past.

My phone rang from my bag, and I eyed Jenks when ZZ Top's "Sharp Dressed Man" jingled out. The pixy gave me an innocent stare, but when Rex perked up, sitting to stare at the corner of the room with a familiar intensity, my expression left me, and I drew back from answering my phone. "Pierce?" I whispered.

The air pressure shifted, and with a soft pop, a misty shape in the corner grew, solidified, and turned into Pierce. Rex stood with a little kitty trill, and I jumped to my feet, shocked. It had to be Pierce. Unless it was Al disguised as him.

"Pierce?" I asked again, and he turned to me, his eyes twinkling, and dressed to the nines in mid-nineteen-hundreds high fashion. He looked like himself. I mean, he didn't look like Tom, and I wondered what in hell was going on.

"Mistress witch," he said, darting across the kitchen to take my hands. "I can't stay," he said breathlessly, eyes glinting. "Al will be of a mind to track me down faster than a dog trees a coon on a moonlit night, but I had to visit you first. To explain."

"You took Tom's body," I said, pulling away. "Pierce, I'm glad to see you, but-"

He nodded, his hair sliding into his eyes until he tossed it back roguishly. "It's black magic, yes, and I'm not proud of it, but it wasn't me who killed the black witch. He killed himself."

"But you look-"

"Like myself, yes," he finished, drawing me into almost a dance, he was so happy. "That was part of the deal. Rachel..." His expression suddenly became concerned. "You've been burned," he said, every last other thought clearly out of his head. His hand went out, and I stopped it before it touched my face.

My pulse was hammering, and I was hot. "Kisten's pyre," I said, flustered.

Pierce gave me a firm look. "It is ended, then."

I nodded. "Please don't tell me you sold your soul for this..." I looked him up and down, and he dropped my hands and stepped back.

"That is a matter of some debate. You must be able to hold what you claim, and though I entered into an agreement, he can't hold me. None of them can hold me."

His smile was way too smug, and I felt a quiver in myself. "You escaped!"

"Once I had obtained a body and could commune with a line, it was only a matter of time. Nothing can hold me forever. Except perhaps you."

Beaming, he pulled me close, and knowing he was going to kiss me, I blurted, "Jenks is here."

Immediately his hands flashed from me. Blue eyes wide in charming shock, he dropped back a step. "Jenks!" he said, flushing. "My apologies."

I followed the sound of an angry humming to see Jenks hovering over the middle counter, staring at us with his hands on his hips and a grimace on his face. "Get out," he said flatly. "I just got her normal again. Get out before you turn her into a sniveling, twitterpated...twit!"

"Jenks!" I exclaimed, and Pierce put a calming hand on me.

"That is my intent, Jenks," he said gallantly, and I wondered if Pierce meant his intent was to leave or to turn me into a twitterpated twit.

Pierce bent to Rex, who was twining about his ankles. "I have to go," he said as he rose with her in his arms. "I was of a mind to explain before Al fills your head with his view of what happened this past week. I will see you as soon as I can. Al is a devilishly fine demon. More fun than a nest of bunnies to outwit."

He's playing with Al? "Pierce...," I said, almost laughing. I was so confused. He had escaped him? He had used Al to gain a body, and then escaped him?

Pierce brought his gaze back to me. "I must pull foot, but until I find myself in a better situation, I will think of you every evening between candle lighting and dawn."

"Wait a minute, Pierce. I'm not-"

But he had swooped forward, and as Jenks angrily dusted silver sparkles on us, he kissed me soundly. He stole it. That was the only way I could describe it. He stole a kiss, wrapping his arms about me and holding me tight as he took a kiss from me and left me breathless.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, not shoving him away but pulling back. Letting go, he inclined his head...and vanished with the soft scent of coal dust and shoe polish.

I stared at where he had been. From behind me, a forgotten cube of ice slipped down and hit the floor. "Uh, Jenks?" I warbled. He had come. He had befuddled me. He had escaped Al on his own and come to crow to me about it. Oh-h-h-h-h crap. I was in trouble.

"No!" Jenks shouted. "Damn it to the Turn and back!" he shrilled, throwing a hot-sparkled tantrum two feet above the counter. "I'll not have you falling for him, Rachel. No!"

But as I ran my fingers over my lips, remembering his there, I thought it might be too late. He was just so...Rachel-ly. Hitting a spot in me that hadn't been alive since I was eighteen. And with that thought, my face went blank. Damn it, Ford had been right. This was why I hadn't had any luck with guys. I had been measuring them against Pierce all this time, and they had all come up lacking. I was in big trouble. Big. Maybe as an eighteen-year-old I thought it was romantic to be involved with a smart, intelligent, devil-may-care, handsome witch who could take on demons, vamps, and the I.S., but I was smarter now, right? Right?!

The air pressure shifted with a bang. I cowered below the level of the counter, and Jenks shot up to the ceiling.

"Witch!" Al bellowed, and I peeked over the counter. His eyes met mine, and he yelled, "Where is my familiar?"

I stood, a smile quirking the corners of my lips. "Uh, he was here," I said. "I didn't summon him, he just kind of showed up." My focus sharpened on Al, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to gauge the truthfulness of my words. "Kind of like how you just did," I added. "He popped in, and then he left."

"Where did he go!" he bellowed, gloved hands clenching. "I had him in a snare that would take Alexander the Great a lifetime to untwist, and he did it in a week!" Al took a step, pinwheeling as his booted heel found an ice cube.

"I don't know," I said, then shouted, "I don't know!" when Al growled at me. "I think he went that way." I pointed off in a vague direction.

Making an mmmm of discontent, Al tugged his frock coat. "I'll see you Saturday, Rachel," he said roughly. "And bring a silver-core rope to tie Gordian Nathaniel Pierce down with. If I ever find him, I'm going to sell him to Newt. I swear, if I didn't need him, I'd kill him myself!"

With a foul-smelling gust of air, Al vanished.

I stared at the spot, blinking.

"Sweet mother of Tink," Jenks whispered from the ladle. "What just happened?"

Leaning against the counter, I shook my head. From the front of the church came the sound of the door opening. "Rachel?" Ivy's voice filtered in. "I'm home. Why did Pierce pop into the car and tell me to pick up a grande latte, double espresso, Italian blend, light on the froth, heavy on the cinnamon, with a shot of raspberry?"

My lips curved up in a smile.

I loved my life.