Jenks clutched at my ear as David's car cut a sharp right. The small pixy wasn't feeling well, seeing as it was noon and he was missing his afternoon nap. I had told him he could stay home and spit seeds at the creepy statue in the garden with Bis, but he swore so prettily at me that I had invited him along on David's and my run. And I say David's and my run because we both had a vested interest. Now that David had started a real pack, he'd be up for a raise if he could show a significant savings to his company. I just wanted to smack some sense into whoever was summoning Al and freeing him to kill me. Please don't let it be Nick, I thought, brow furrowed. The woman who owned the house was a witch, but that didn't mean Nick couldn't be wrapped up with her.

The day was sunny, and I had my shades on. The cool breeze coming in the open window felt good in my hair, which was loose and flowing. The skies promised to be clear, and with the moon just past full, it was shaping up to be an excellent Halloween night. If this was the group that was summoning Al and I could suitably impress upon them the error of their ways, I might risk going out. Marshal hadn't called, but I hadn't expected him to. I think he was backing off after our very quiet car ride back to his truck. Trent had put me in an exquisitely bad mood. Exhaling heavily, I made a face no one could see. Whatever.

At least Ceri and I aren't still at odds, I thought, smiling faintly. It felt good to settle that so fast, and I was glad I'd taken the initiative. It wasn't that she'd taught me a new charm that made me feel good, it was knowing that I hadn't lost a friendship. The only thing bothering me now was not knowing what was going on with Quen. I hoped he was all right and that Trent was being a drama queen.

David glanced across the short width of his gray sports car as he slowed at a crossing. The sun glinted on his long black hair, which was pulled back in a casual clip, making him look good. "You should wear a business suit more often," he said, his low voice mixing with the sound of fighting sparrows. We were out in the suburbs, and traffic was light. "You look nice."

"Thank you." I tugged the blah-brown skirt down over my knees. I had on nylons, and they felt icky. My flat-black, no-heel shoes didn't do anything for me either. And the purse that went with this outfit was so not me. At least my splat gun fit in it. David had insisted I look the part if I was coming with him. If he had made me dye my hair and put on brown contacts, I would have thought he was embarrassed to be seen with me.

"It's not the dress," Jenks chimed in, yawning. "She's got a new boyfriend."

I looked askance at him. "Marshal? I don't think so. He bugged out pretty fast yesterday."

Laughing, Jenks darted to David's steering wheel and landed there. "Sure, he's gone now, but he'll be back. Not looking for a girlfriend, my dragonfly's little green turds. That's the oldest line in the book, Rache. Take a smart pill once in a while, huh?"

We had had fun yesterday, until Trent showed up, but I wasn't sure if I wanted Marshal to call. I mean, I knew what was going to happen if he hung around, and I didn't want to go through that crap again. "He's coming off a psycho girlfriend," I said, remembering the soft look in his eyes when he had spun me into him. "The last thing he wants is another."

"That's what I'm saying!" Jenks threw his arms up in frustration. "He's just like you, going from one relationship to another to keep from getting bored, and you are going to get so burned on this one that you're going to need skin grafts."

I made an ugly face at him, but he only laughed. David was eyeing Jenks to get him to continue, and the pixy was more than happy to oblige. "You've got to meet this guy," he said, hands on his hips and his wings going full tilt as he walked along the steering wheel when David turned it. He was in the sun now, and his wings glittered. "A normal relationship isn't enough for him, and he's got this white-knight complex on top of that, which Rachel fed when we asked for his help up in Mackinaw. I hope he gets smart faster than her, or he's going to be in a world of hurt. Probably find himself turned into a rat or something."

I didn't appreciate the reference to Nick, and my mood darkened. "Jenks, shut up," I said tiredly, then turned to David. "Have you talked to the ladies about the pack tattoo?"

Jenks snickered. "Nice segue, Rache. From one pain in the ass to another."

"Learn a new word, Jenks?" I needled.

David grinned to show his small teeth. "I've got an appointment for you with Emojin, Cincy's best tat design artist, the first week in April. I'll pick you up."

"April?" I said, my fear and anticipation easing. "I didn't know it would take that long." Maybe with a little luck, they'd forget about the entire thing.

Shrugging, David watched the road. "She's the best, and nothing but the best for my first female alpha."

I snorted and propped my elbow up on the window as I looked out. My schedule was going to be very full in April. Just watch.

Jenks was snickering, and I sent my gaze to the passing upper-class homes, ignoring him. We were almost there by the look of it, and I'd be glad to get out of the car and take my frustration out on some demon summoners.

"Big lots," I said, seeing the eighty-year-old oaks and shady lawns. The houses were set way back and had iron fences and stone drives.

"The harder to hear your neighbors scream, my dear," was David's answer, and I sent my head up and down in agreement.

Halloween decorations were everywhere - expensive and elaborate displays. Most of them moved, a combination of mechanics and magic that had been found only on locked Hollywood back lots until the Turn. David exhaled loudly as he turned the car onto a cobblestoned, circular drive. "This is it," he said as our momentum slowed and the sound of the tires became louder.

The house was a sprawling ranch with what looked like an inground pool in the back and elaborate landscaping in front. Inside the garage was a black two-seater Beemer, a riding lawn mower, and little else. A basket of cherry tomatoes with a gingham liner was sitting on the steps, a clear indication that the homeowner was Inderlander. I still had to go out and get my tomatoes, and I made a mental note to ask David if he would mind stopping at the Big Cherry on the way home.

Black and orange decorations covered the front porch between the huge Boston ferns and the greyhound statue. They might want to take it in tonight, or someone was going to cover it in tomato. Or worse.

The brakes squeaked as David stopped, and as he put the car in park, Jenks hovered before me. "Be right back," he said, then zipped out the window.

David got out of the car, shutting it with an attention-getting thump. Inside the house, a small dog started yapping hysterically. David looked good in his suit, but also tired. It was just after the full moon, and the two ladies had probably run him hard.

Eager to get my life back, I jumped out of the car and slammed the door.

"Relax, Rachel," David murmured as he came around the car, gripping his briefcase and wrangling his shades into place.

"I am relaxed," I said, then jiggled my feet impatiently. "You want to hurry up?" Please don't be Nick. Let me have made one good choice in my life.

David hesitated, his dark eyes flicking to the barking dog visible through a window. "You can't arrest anyone. You don't have a warrant."

I nudged him into motion and up the short walk. "If I'm lucky, someone will take a swing at me, and then I can hit 'em."

Looking askance at me with a wry grin, David snorted. "Just tell me if it was demon damage, and we'll leave. If it is, you can come back and make whoever it is chew his own balls on your terms, but as far as I'm concerned, this is just some nice lady with a crack in her wall."

Yeah, and I'm the cosmetics girl at Valeria's Crypt. "Whatever," I muttered, then tugged my dress straight and checked my complexion charm as we took the stairs to the shady porch. I wanted my Halloween back.

David rocked to a halt on the mat, tilting his head to watch the dog having hysterics through the long window beside the door. "It's not illegal to summon demons."

I huffed as I tucked my shades into that ugly brown purse, right next to the splat gun, the magnetic chalk, and the heavy-magic detection amulet - so far a nice friendly green. "It's illegal to tell them to kill someone."

"Rachel...," he coaxed as he rung the bell and the barking dog jumped up and down. "Don't make me sorry I brought you."

I stared, fascinated as the blond fuzz ball turned somersaults. "Me?" I said coyly.

The little dog yelped, vanishing in the blur of a swinging foot. I blinked, and my mouth was hanging open unintelligently when the door moved, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a paisley-patterned dress and an honest-to-God apron. I sure hoped it was a costume, because the fifties look was not an attractive fashion statement.

"Hello," she said, sounding like a little-miss-hostess doll. Her eyebrows arched, and I wondered if I had a run in my stockings. She didn't appear as if she was a demon summoner. She didn't appear as if she was in mourning either. Maybe she was the cook.

"I'm David," David said as he shifted his briefcase and shook her hand. "David Hue. And this is Ray, my assistant. We're from Were Insurance."

Ray? As in a little drop of sunshine? I gave him a dry look. I wasn't incognito, here.

"Ms. Morgan," I said, extending my hand, and the woman took it briefly with a noncommittal smile. A wave of redwood spilled from her, telling me she was a witch rather than a warlock, and she'd been spelling heavily lately. I wasn't buying the housewife image - she could probably slam me against the wall. Better be polite.

"I'm Betty," she said, stepping back and giving her dog another shove. It skittered sideways and parked its little yappy butt in the archway to the dining room. "Come on in."

David gestured for me to precede him, so eyeing the panting but silent dog happily staring at me, I went in. Betty's skirt swayed as she set a cordless phone on the table by the door between the huge bowl of wrapped candy and the plate of frosted sugar cookies. Orange pumpkins and black cats. By golly, she bakes, too.

"I understand you have some water damage?" David prompted when the door shut.

A shiver passed through me as it clicked smartly closed. Everything was clean and bright, lit by a high window. The hall was spacious, and clearly the woman was wealthy. The fact that her husband had just died of a heart attack was nowhere on her face or house. Nothing.

Heels clacking, the woman started down the hall. "In the basement," she said over her shoulder. "This way. I have to say I'm surprised you're working on Halloween."

Her tone was slightly sour, and I imagined Betty only offered to be available today as she thought we wouldn't work on Halloween. No one else did.

David cleared his throat. "We like to settle claims fast. Get your life back to normal."

Catch you in a lie, I added, looking at the d��cor. It was all angles and stark colors that made me uncomfortable. It smelled like hard-boiled eggs. On a long table was a big flower arrangement of lilies and black roses. Okay, so someone had cared.

The rapid patter of the dog's nails at my ankle pulled my gaze down, and the little dog panted happily up at me as if I were his best friend. "Go away," I muttered, motioning with my foot, and he yapped playfully, dancing around my toes.

Betty halted at an unadorned door painted white, and she turned, frowning at him. "Beat it, Sampson," she said roughly, and the cheerful little dog sat at my feet, his banner tail sweeping the tiled floor like mad.

With a last scowl, she opened the door, flicked on the light, and headed down. I looked at David, and he gestured for me to go first. I shook my head, not liking the bare boards and ugly walls after the open whiteness of the rooms upstairs, and sighing, he went first.

Betty was yammering about something, and I took a breath to steady myself. I didn't want to go down there, but that's what I was here for. Frowning, I looked at Sampson. "Everything okay down there, sport?" I asked him, and he stood, his entire backside waving as he ate up the attention.

"Stupid dog," I muttered as I started down. But maybe not so stupid, since he stayed at the top of the stairs in the sun while I followed Widow Betty into the electric-lit blackness underground. Two steps in, I opened my purse and checked the lethal-spell amulet. Nothing. But the heavy-magic charm was glowing brightly enough to read by.

"I don't know how long the wall has been leaking." Betty's voice came echoing up as she reached the bottom and opened up a second door. It was unusual, but they might have had the vamp door for resale value. "I only come down here when I have to store something," she said as she flicked on the lights and the scent of carpet cleaner came drifting up. "I noticed it was wet a few weeks ago, and I ran the extractor over the carpet and forgot about it, but earlier this week, the crack just sort of opened up, and it got a lot worse."

David stepped into the basement, and after a quick amulet check, I halted at the base of the stair. I wasn't ready yet to let that woman get between me and the door. It was really thick, and it had a conventional lock on the outside and a deadbolt on the inside. Nice. Bet it was soundproof. No one likes screams disturbing their Sunday dinner.

Seeing me there, David nodded almost imperceptibly and went to drop his briefcase on the long conference table set up in the middle of the large room. It smelled too clean for Betty to be coming down here only once in a while. Bleach, and maybe that spray that Ivy used on the blood circles this spring. The cinder-block wall under the front door had a crack I could put my pinky in running from floor to ceiling, thinner rays following the mortar lines.

Betty clustered close to David as the clicks of the locks on his briefcase made a tiny echo. He brought out some paperwork, and feeling safer, I meandered to the cracks. My skin crawled when the woman's gaze sharpened on me, even as she started signing papers. If this was water damage, then I was an elf.

There was a back room behind some fake pine paneling. The drop ceiling was low, and the brown indoor/outdoor carpet looked like dirt. No wonder Al liked my kitchen; this would be an ugly place to be summoned into. Past David and Betty at the far end under the high basement windows, an eight-inch-high platform took up the entire end of the room. I looked at the crack in the wall and smirked. Yeah. This had demon-summoning all over it. I'd seen the damage they could do. The water on the floor had probably come from trying to get the blood out of the carpet.

"Ma'am?" David said to get Betty's attention. "Just a couple more places to sign, and I'll take a few pictures. Then we'll get out of here and you can return to your day."

Betty signed where David was pointing, hardly taking her eyes off of me as I flicked a bit of mortar out of the crack to find it dry underneath. "What's she doing?" Betty asked, stiffening.

David took a breath to answer, but I interrupted with a pleasant, "I'm Mr. Hue's demon specialist." This woman wasn't the top person, and that was who I wanted to talk to.

David's lips twitched, and I beamed. Yes, he was irritated, but we had two agendas here, and mine wasn't being met.

"Demon?" Betty said faintly.

"It's state law," I lied. "When the structural integrity of a dwelling has been compromised, it must be inspected for demon damage." Well, it wasn't a law, but it should be.

"I...didn't know that," Betty said, turning a new shade of pale.

David frowned, and I surged ahead. "I'd say that by the looks of this, that you have a demon problem, Betty. And a really bad one. This wall is bowing out, not in, as is typical in water damage. And as you can see by the flakes," I said, picking another one out, "the concrete is dry under it. We'll have to run some tests, but I would guess that either someone ran a hose down here to wash out the blood, or a demon urinated all over the carpet. Either one is bad news. Demon urine is really hard to get out."

Betty was backing to the door, and my confidence grew. She wasn't going to do anything. She was scared.

"Rachel," David warned, telling me to back off.

But I couldn't resist. "David, be sure to get a picture of that window. Look, you can see the hose right outside."

"Excuse me," Betty said nervously. "I think I hear my phone ringing."

"And it smells down here, too," I added, wanting to make sure she called her friend the demon summoner and not the I.S. Pretending surprise, I brought out the high-magic charm. It was a bright red, and my fingers glowed from it. "Oh, yes, yes!" I exclaimed, looking at the crack and bobbing my head. "I will definitely have to report this to the demon manifestation department. Big magic within the last few days."

David had his head down and was rubbing his forehead as Betty stared at me with wide, frightened eyes, tense and ready to run. Almost enough. Just one more nail.

"Next time you're going to try to pass off demon damage as something else, Betty, you should wait until after the new moon for the accumulated smut they leave behind to be wiped off. Now you go toddle off and call your grand pooh-bah."

Hand to her mouth, Betty fled. I tensed, not surprised when she slammed the door shut. The sound of the lock was ominous and the patter of her heels on the stairs entirely expected.

"Rachel...," David complained.

"Hey!" I shouted when the lights went out. "Oh, nice," I said, fists on my hips and frowning at the ceiling.

"This wasn't the plan," David said, and I heard his briefcase snap shut. Being a Were, his eyes had probably already adjusted to the thin glow coming in the sparse windows, but his approaching shadow was ominous-looking and creepy.

"Yes it was," I said. "You wanted to know if the damage was demonic in origin, and I gave you my opinion."

"I didn't expect you to give it to me in front of her!" he exclaimed, then sighed, sitting back on the table with his case in front of him like a fig leaf.

"Sorry," I said, and I jumped when his hand hit my shoulder. "I know these kind of people, and the head guy won't show unless I call him out. She's phoning him right now. We'll have our chat, and we can all go home and enjoy trick-or-treats tonight."

"Or they'll keep us here until they summon your demon again."

I laughed. "They wouldn't dare. Jenks is outside, and I'm under Rynn Cormel's protection. He'd wipe them out." I hesitated. "Would you be more comfortable waiting aboveground?"

David moved to the window, a dark shadow that ghosted like a wisp of fog. "Yes. How do you plan on getting out of here? Blow the door off the hinges? My company won't pay for that."

"I've got Jenks," I said, surprised he hadn't shown up yet. If all else failed, David could boost me out a window. Betty was a boob if she thought we were going to stay here until they chose to deal with us.

I opened my purse to get my phone and call Ivy to tell her I might be a little late this afternoon, and the red light of the high-magic detection amulet blazed forth to make everything a nasty haze. "Four bars on my phone," I said, squinting.

"Someone's here already," David said, coming from the window and joining me at the table. "That dog is having a fit."

Even I could hear Sampson, and I winced at his sudden yelp of pain. The sound of heavy footsteps in the stairwell was clear, and Betty's voice was an irritating, panicked chatter.

"David, if I ever get like that, just slap me," I said, leaning against the table and crossing my arms with my eyes on the door. I didn't know who was going to come through, but I wanted to look confident when they did. The Were chuckled and joined me, then blinked and winced when the lights went on and the lock turned with an oiled slickness. The heavy door opened, and Jenks came in an instant before a slight man in a comfortable pair of slacks and a casual sweater. Behind him was Betty in full hysterics.

"Sorry, Rache," Jenks said as he lit on my earring. "I would have been here sooner, but when I saw Tom Thumb-up-his-ass in the backyard, I stuck with him."

Tom? As in I'm-going-to-arrest-you-for-summoning-demons-in-a-charm-shop Tom? Arms going to my sides, I looked closer. Relaxing, I started to laugh. "Oh, my God. You?" I said, too relieved to be angry. This I could handle. If I could jail city powers, evade master vampires, and outsmart demons, then getting an idiot of an I.S. agent to stop freeing demons to kill me was going to be easy. Finally...something was going my way for a change.

Tom stopped at the base of the stairs, ignoring Betty as he glanced from me to David to assess how big a threat the Were was. David calmly clasped his hands before him and waited. Me, I stepped forward as belligerently and obnoxiously as I could.

"Wow," I said sarcastically. "I'm impressed. Congratulations. You had me fooled. You didn't even make my who-wants-to-off-Rachel list. Are you going to kill us now, or sic Al on us when the sun goes down?"

Tom pried Betty's grip off his arm. The woman wouldn't shut up, and it was getting on my nerves. "You don't know when to stop, do you?" he said, clueless as ever. The guy was too young to pull off the amount of domination he was trying for. Trent could do it, but he had the right clothes, not to mention the right demeanor. Slacks and a cardigan sort of ruined it.

"Not when you make a habit of dismissing demons so they can walk Cincy freely," I said. "And don't think you're going to saddle me with the bill for that charm shop. You summoned him. You're paying for it."

Tom laughed and came farther in, glancing at the wall before taking an aggressive stance between us and the stairs. I felt him tap a line, and I swung my purse around and brought out my splat gun to casually check the hopper. David shifted his weight and loosened his tie. From the top of the stairway, Sampson's barks grew frenzied.

"Mr. Bansen," Betty said, eyes on the cherry-red gun as she moaned, "I didn't know about the demon investigation. It doesn't say that in the policy!"

"Go upstairs," Tom growled, shoving her hand off him again. "It's not in the policy because she was lying."

David sighed, and I beamed.

"But they know it was a demon!" she wailed.

Tom spun, shouting, "I told you not to put in a claim, you stupid cow. Go upstairs and take that ridiculous costume off. You look like my mother!"

The poor woman fled, her red heels clacking so fast up the stairs I almost felt sorry for her. Sampson went with her, and the tension in the basement eased.

"Having trouble with your neophytes?" I said when an upstairs door slammed. "Jeez, Tom, no wonder you wanted me in your club. That's pathetic."

Tom's lips twisted. Clearly feeling a sting, he gave his head a shake to get the hair from his eyes. "A splat gun? Real witches don't need guns."

"Real witches use all their available resources." David shifted in agitation, and before he could say anything, I said, "Look. I know you've been summoning Al and letting him go to kill me."

"Moi?" he said coyly.

That was just stupid. "Knock it off," I said, taking a step toward him. "You'll live longer."

Tom watched Jenks hovering beside me and backed up. "I know what I'm doing," he said loftily. "He has yet to break my control."

"Really." I sent my gaze to the wall. "What was that from?"

The witch went slightly green, and the scent of bleach seemed to grow stronger. "Someone got careless," he said, not dropping his eyes.

"And you got a promotion?" I guessed. Pity came from nowhere. God! It was right in front of him, and he still didn't get it. "Tom, you are so stupid."

"I'm a visionary," he countered.

"You're a walking corpse. Al is playing with you. You think your little circle is going to keep you safe?" I said, pointing at the stage. "I've circled him every time you sent him to me. It doesn't matter what you told him to do after I catch him. He's mine at that point. And what if I send him back to you instead of the ever-after? Huh? How about that? Think you'd enjoy trying to catch him in this little hidey-hole of a pit you're summoning him into? Or maybe he'll find you in the shower, or asleep?"

The witch blanched. Behind him, David padded with all the stealth of an alpha wolf to the stairs to protect my escape. Jenks was with him, making me feel doubly secure.

"Didn't think about that, didja," I said to knock the precariousness of his situation home. I was a good girl, but I didn't have to be. I'd sent Al back to his summoner before. "You little pissant," I said bitterly, not liking that Tom was probably going to make me do it again. "You don't want to play this game with me. Really, you don't."

Tom drew himself up and David tensed. I couldn't let him think he had the upper hand, and after a look at David to tell him I wasn't close to being stupid, I got in Tom's face.

"Stop summoning him," I said, tapping a line so my hair would float ominously. "If Al shows up to bother me, I'm sending him back, and you'll be cleaning up more than one person hitting a cement wall. Got it?"

Shaking inside, I turned to leave, glad David had the stairs. "And tell Betty not to expect a check for the damage either. Her insurance doesn't cover demons."

Sampson was barking from somewhere as I stomped up the stairs, Jenks a quiet hum before me and David's steps soft behind. I felt like the cream filling in a cookie, my brain full of fluff and nonsense. What in hell was I doing telling Tom I'd send Al back at him? Tom wouldn't have a chance. He'd be dead in thirty seconds.

Why am I giving him an ounce of thought? He's sending Al to kill me.

I got halfway through the sterile house done in pastels and sharp corners before Sampson was at my heels, panting for attention. "Did she buy you because you matched the couch?" I said bitterly, and the little dog yapped, his tail putting out enough motion to power Cincy for a year. Struck by a sudden thought, I hesitated at the front door to look at my high-magic amulet. It was green; he was just a dog.

"What a nasty little rat chaser," Jenks said from the security of my shoulder as I wiggled my foot to keep him inside when David opened the door.

"He's a saint in fur for putting up with that woman," I said, wanting to pick him up and take him home. I didn't even like dogs. Giving him a last look, I stifled my desire to pat him on the head and just shut the door.

David was eyeing me questioningly, and ignoring it, I schlumped down the stairs and to the car. I wanted to get out of here before Tom found his balls and started after me. In a bad mood, I got in David's car, fastened my belt, and stared out the front window, waiting.

Both David and Jenks were unusually silent, hesitant almost, as they got in.

"What!" I snapped, and Jenks let a little dust slip from him to color David's shoulder.

David shrugged, and after glancing at Jenks he said, "You okay?"

I looked at the house and saw Sampson sitting at the long window, tail still going. "No."

The Were took a breath as he started the car up and put it into drive. "I hope he doesn't call your bluff."

Silently I stared at the Halloween decorations so I wouldn't have to think.

"Uh, it was a bluff, right?" David prompted, and when Jenks's wings hummed nervously, I put on a fake smile.

"Duh, yeah, it was a bluff," I said, and Jenks's wings took on a more normal translucence. But even as I busied myself with changing David's radio from country to something a little more radical, a part of me worried it might not be.

But at least it hadn't been Nick.