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."

Tossing the hair from her eyes, she shook the mouse and woke up her computer. "Yes?"

Yes? It sounded innocent enough, but my pulse was racing, and I knew she knew it and was feigning disinterest. Hands around my warm mug, I took a slow breath. "If you could, would you leave everything to become human?"

Mouse unmoving, she stared at me with empty eyes. "I don't know."

A dry clattering of pixy wings interrupted and Jenks darted in, spilling silver sparkles. "What!" he exclaimed, hovering in midair between us in his Peter Pan pose. "Rachel says she can take away the blood lust, and you say you don't know? What's wrong with you!"

"Jenks!" I exclaimed, not surprised he'd been listening. "I didn't say I could make her human. I asked if she could, would she do it. And quit eavesdropping on us, okay?"

Ivy shook her head. "So I'm human, and the blood lust is gone. What does that leave me with? It's not the blood lust that warped me, it was Piscary. I'd still be mixing savagery with feelings of love. Only now, if I hurt someone in passion, it would hurt. At least the way things are, it would feel good."

Jenks's wings dropped in pitch, and a slip of dust turned green for a moment. "Oh."

"Not to mention I'd be frail and lower on the food chain," she added, a soft blush coloring her skin, attention going to the screen, avoiding us. "Anyone could take advantage of me and probably would, seeing as I've got a past. The way things are now, no one dares."

Cold, I tugged my robe closed. "You can feel strong without the vampire virus."

"Yeah, right," she said, and my expression froze at her flash of anger. "I like being a vampire. It's losing my soul that scares me. If I knew I wouldn't lose it when I die, I might try harder to...conform." Her eyes met mine, my magic books stacked between us, all brought down this morning from the belfry. "You really think you can make me human?"

Jenks's kids came rushing in with a burst of noise and silk, and I shrugged as he corralled them, pushing them out ahead of him as he went to see what had them in a tizzy. "I don't know," I said in the abruptly quiet kitchen. "Trent has a treatment. It only has an eleven percent success rate, and it only makes the virus and neurotoxins dormant. If you survived taking it, you'd still become an undead and lose your soul when you died. Rynn Cormel would say it was a failure." I smiled thinly, thinking it sucked to be a vampire, even one as respected as Ivy. "It might make your life easier. Or it might kill you." I wasn't going to risk an 11 percent chance of success. Not with Ivy.

"Actually," I said, hesitant to bring it up, "I was thinking along the lines of a curse that can turn you human."

"Or witch?" Ivy said, surprising me. There was a soft vulnerability in her and I blinked.

"You don't want to be a witch," I said quickly.

"Why not? You are."

Jenks came back in with one of his kids, her wings tangled up in what was probably spiderweb. "I think you should be a pixy," he said, fingers sifting dust as they gently ran over Jrixibell's wing to clean it. "You'd look so cute with your little wings and your sword. I'd let you fight in my garden anytime."

A smile quirked her lips, then died. "A witch can't be turned," she said shortly.

"Neither can a Were," said Jenks, smiling as he boosted his child into the air and the little girl zipped out, hurting my ears with her shout to wait for her.

Ivy was lost in thought, and I couldn't help my smile as I thought of David. I think she was, too, when she turned to her computer, blushing. Cormel would freaking kill me if I turned Ivy into anything other than a vampire with an eternal soul. But seeing as I couldn't be what I wanted, why not use my liability to give Ivy the chance to be what she wanted?

Feeling like something had been settled even though it hadn't, I pushed myself up and went to the pantry. Everything that had been in our fridge was outside. "You want pancakes? I feel like cooking."

"Sure." Her fingers were clicking on the keys, but her eyes were on the three bottles of potion against the wall by the disillusion pot of salt water. "You got the book?" she asked.

I came out of the pantry with the box of mix. "Last night. I'm going out to try it tonight at Fountain Square. You want to come?"

"Will there be news vans and screaming?"

"Probably," I said sourly.

"Count me in," she said, and Jenks snorted from the sill where he was feeding his sea monkeys. The tiny tank of brine had taken the place of honor at the window ever since I'd moved Mr. Fish to the ever-after as my canary, to know if the ever-after was poisoning me.

Leaning against the counter, I read the back of the box. If we had eggs, they were frozen. "Actually, I'm going to rent a van and park it in the garage. Could you help keep people away?"

"If the van's a rockin', don't come a knockin'!" Jenks said, gyrating beside me.

"God, Jenks," I said. "We do have kids in the church."

"How do you think they got here, baby?" he said, laughing.

I set the box down hard, and the mix puffed up into him. "Hey!" he shouted, dusting heavily as he shivered his wings and the mix made a cloud.

Ivy was smiling with closed lips. This was nice. We'd come a long way in a year-all of us. "After you whip that demon's ass, I'll take you and Pierce out for pizza," she offered.

"Deal." Bending, I got the frying pan out from under the counter and put it on the stove. My thoughts went to what spells I could make today to help ensure that Al wouldn't get so pissed he took his mistake out on me. They'd be earth charms, so I wouldn't have to tap a line, but that was where I excelled. Sleepy-time charms for sure.

Ivy stood in a fast motion, and Jenks and I jumped. Either she wasn't hiding her vampire speed, or she was having trouble controlling it. Seeing Jenks's and my alarm, her face scrunched in amusement. "Glenn's car is at the end of the street," she said, and Jenks rose higher, his expression one of disbelief. "I'm getting dressed." Coffee in hand, she walked out.

"Tink's little red thong," Jenks blurted, following her. "You can hear that from here?"

"Today I can," she said, her words fading as she went into her room.

I tightened the tie on my robe. Would I give up being that special in order to love someone, or would I just find someone new to love?

The creaking of the front door and the ensuing pixy uproar told me Jenks had let the FIB detective in, and I was smiling when the tall man entered, a paper grocery bag in his grip. Pixies wreathed him, noisy as they darted in and out of the bag while he set it on the counter. His eyes went to the empty space where the fridge had been, a question in his expression. "Where's your fridge?"

"I blew it up," I said, taking in his fading bruises and bare scalp, newly shaved to even out the mess the hospital had left. I didn't think I'd ever seen him in jeans before, and a dark sweater showed from underneath a leather coat. "You look better," I said as he eyed my robe.

"Uh, it's three in the afternoon," he said, suddenly unsure.

"It sure is." I gave him a hug, truly glad to see him. "How are those locator amulets I gave your dad working? You want some coffee? Pancakes? I owe you for helping me get out of the hospital. Thanks for that." I couldn't stop smiling. I'd thought he was going to die or be hospitalized for months, and now he was standing in my kitchen with a bag of groceries and only the faintest hint of stress showing in his face.

Glenn's gaze slid to the coffeepot, then back to the empty spot. "Uh, amulets are working, I guess, you're welcome for the help breaking out, and no thanks on the coffee. I can't stay. The department heard what happened last night with you and Ivy, and the guys wanted me to bring you both something. You're not invincible, you know. There's no big S on your chest." He hesitated, brow furrowing as he leaned close enough that I could smell his aftershave. "How's Ivy? I heard she was hit hard."

"She bounced right back," I said dryly, peeking into the bag with the pixies to find...Tomatoes? He bought tomatoes with the FIB's gift fund? "Ah, she's getting dressed," I added, surprised. Where did Glenn get tomatoes?

"Damn, vampires heal fast," he said, his dark eyes interested as he leaned to see into the bag while I poked around. "It took me five days. No wonder Denon wants to be one."

"Yeah, well, we all make mistakes." Three of Jenks's kids rose up with a cherry tomato, arguing over who got the seeds. "Glenn, did you get all this by yourself?"

He grinned, rubbing a hand behind his neck. "Yeah. Too much?"

"Not if you're going to have a family reunion," I said, smiling so he'd know I was messing with him. "Damn, Mr. Man! I'm proud of you! You actually went in a store and everything?"

He came close to the bag, leaning to look in, his eagerness charming on a big black man. "You should have seen the looks I got," he said as he reached in and the bag crackled. "Did you know there is more than one kind of tomato? This one is a beefsteak." A huge tomato the size of my two fists hit the counter. "It's good for slicing up on sandwiches. And the lady at the store said you can quarter them and grill them."

"No kidding," I said, hiding a grin as his dark fingers pulled out a bag of plum tomatoes.

"These long ones are Romas," he said as he set them down. "You cut these up and put them in salads, on pizza, and in sauces. And the little ones here are cherry tomatoes. You can put them in salads or eat them like candy."

I had never eaten a tomato "like candy," but I ate one now, the acidic fruit not mixing at all well with the coffee. "Mmmm, good," I said, and Jenks laughed, hovering at the lintel with the tomato his kids had swiped. Behind him, one of his daughters waited, wringing her hands.

"I've got three that were vine ripened," Glenn said, showing me the top of his bruised and cut head as he looked for them. "Those babies were expensive, but they're really red."

"Don't you want some of these for yourself?" I asked, and he looked up, grinning. The smile went all the way to his eyes, and it felt good to see it on him.

"I've got another bag in the car. You're going to have to find someone else to blackmail into giving you law enforcement tools."

"So you don't mind if I tell your dad, then?" I teased, and his smile vanished.

Jenks came in, easily handling the weight of the cherry tomato. "Here, Glenn. My kids are sorry. They won't do it again."

I caught the fruit as he dropped it. "They can keep it," I said, and five pixy bucks and Jenks's daughter swooped in, arguing in high-pitched voices as they snatched it from my palm.

"Hey!" Jenks shouted, following them out.

"Are you sure you don't want some coffee?" I said as I heard Ivy's door creak open. "I think the rani of recycling has a foam cup around here. You can take it with you."

Glenn took his fingers out of the bag of tomatoes, his hands going behind him in sort of a parade rest, his back to the door. "No, I have to go. But I want your opinion on last night."

He was starting to look like a cop. Frowning, I thought about Ivy and my frantic drive to the bridge. "It sucked. Why?"

"Not your personal night," Glenn said dryly. "Don't you ever look at a paper?"

Interested, I pushed off from the counter and found this morning's paper still in its little plastic bag on the table. Under it was the picture of Jenks and me standing before the Mackinaw Bridge, rescued from yesterday's burning fridge. Carefully moving the photo, I opened up the paper. "Where am I looking?" I asked, standing hunched over it.

"The front page," he said wryly.

Oh goodie. Wincing, I read, THREE IN HOSPITAL. EARLY MORNING BLACK MAGIC TO BLAME. There was a picture of ambulances in the dark, the scene lit by a car on fire. People were milling around in front of a business. From my shoulder, Jenks whistled, back from his kids.

"Uh, I was home all night," I said, thinking I was going to get blamed for this somehow. Whatever it was. "I talked to your dad about midnight. He can vouch for me." I leaned forward, recognizing the roof's outline. Aston's roller rink? "You're not working this, are you?" I asked, worried now. "Glenn, you might feel better, but your aura is still thin."

"I appreciate your concern," he said, his attention moving from the paper to the open box of cold pizza. "Hey, uh, can I have a slice of that? I'm starving."

"Sure." I squinted at the black-and-white shot as Glenn crossed the kitchen and wrangled a slice from the pizza. "Jenks, did you know about this?"

Jenks shook his head and landed on the paper, hands on his hips and his attention directed downward as he read.

"From what we've gotten from the I.S.," Glenn said around a bite of pizza, "it seems Ms. Walker ran into Ms. Harbor. Three people in intensive care with damaged auras."

"That's terrible," I said, glad I wasn't being blamed for it. "Do you need me to come down and look at the crime scene?" I asked, brightening. "It's Aston's roller rink, isn't it?"

Glenn laughed, turning it into a choke, and I kept my eyes on him-not on Ivy, suddenly standing in the doorway. She was dressed in jeans and a black sweater, looking nice, her hair brushed and wearing a little bit of makeup. "No, but thanks," he said, oblivious to Ivy.

Affronted, I sat in my chair and said, "You didn't have to laugh."

Jenks was in the air with the paper, struggling to turn it over and get to the rest of the article. "Yes, he did. You need to take a class on crime scene etiquette, Rache."

Ivy ghosted up behind Glenn as he started to take another bite, her feet soundless. "Thanks for the tomatoes, Glenn," she whispered in his ear, and the man jumped.

"Sweet mother of Jesus!" he exclaimed, spinning, his hand smacking his hip where his pistol would have been. The slice of pizza went airborne, and he scrambled to catch it. "Damn, woman," he complained as it hit the floor. "Where did you come from?"

Ivy smiled with her lips closed, but I was laughing. "My mother always said I came from heaven," she said, then delicately stepped over the pizza to reach the coffeemaker. Motions sultry, she refilled her cup and turned, standing in front of the cupboard door to the trash.

Glenn was holding the slice of pizza cradled in his big hand like it was a favorite pet-dead but still beloved. Ivy slid sideways and opened the cupboard door, and the man sighed as he threw it away. Amused, I extended the pizza box, and he brightened, taking another slice.

"So what's up?" Ivy asked as she sipped her coffee, eyeing him over the rim as if she wanted to eat him up like pie.

"Yeah, why are you here, Glenn, if you don't want me to check out that crime scene?" I asked, putting my feet up on the adjacent chair and adjusting my robe to cover my legs.

"Can't a guy bring over a get-well tomato without getting the third degree?" he said with a false innocence.

"Six freaking pounds of get-well tomatoes," Jenks muttered, and Ivy set her cup down, turning to the sink to fill a small pan to wash the red fruit. She wanted to stay and needed something to do.

"It better not be about working tonight," I said, looking askance at the paper. "I already told your dad I was not working his lame-ass party."

"No way!" Jenks darted from the paper to hover an inch before Glenn's nose. "There is no way I'm letting Rachel work with her aura that crappy. You want her facedown again? She may look all tough and shit, but her aura peels off like a banana skin."

I hadn't known that, and I wondered if it was a species thing or just me.

"Which is exactly why I'm not doing what my dad sent me to do, asking you to work that party," Glenn said as he stood unperturbed in our kitchen and mowed down his pizza crust. Wings clattering, Jenks backed down, and Glenn glanced at me. "If he calls, swear a lot and tell him I gave you a hard time, will you? He has no idea what it's like to have a compromised aura. I'm glad you're both staying in tonight."

I didn't shift my eyes from him, but it was hard not to look at Ivy, who had turned with that beefsteak swathed in a towel, a smile quirking her lips. "Yeah, a nice and quiet night," I said, hoping he didn't see my spell books. Fingers slow, I folded the paper up and set it deliberately on top of them.

Ivy turned her back on us, but I think she was still smiling as she continued washing the tomatoes, setting them to dry one by one.

"Well, I gotta go," Glenn said, dusting his hands and looking at the leftover pizza. "Thanks, ladies. Don't let my dad get to you. He really wants to nail this woman and doesn't realize what he's asking of you."

"No problem." Now I felt guilty, and I stood up, handing him the pizza box. His eyes lit up as he took it, but I wished he'd get out of here. I had to prep for tonight. Sure, I had agreed not to circle Al, but there were other ways to catch a demon, and I wondered if turning him into a mouse would work. I knew I could do that one. "Have a great New Year's, Glenn."

The FIB detective smiled. "You, too." He picked up one of the clean tomatoes and tucked it in his pocket. Winking, he said, "Don't tell my dad about the tomatoes, okay?"

"I'll take it to my grave." Which might be as soon as tonight...

Ivy turned from folding up the grocery bag and sliding it under the sink. "Glenn, are you headed in to work?" she asked, and he hesitated.

"Ye-e-es," he hedged. "You want a ride?"

"I have a few words of wisdom for Edden about that little bitch of a banshee," she said, grimacing, then added, looking at me, "Unless you need me to stick around?"

Jenks's wings clattered in agitation, and mystified, I glanced at my spell books. "I'm just going to play with my junior cook books," I said, and then worried that guilt might make her try to face Mia alone, I added, "You'll be back before the ball drops, right?"

The rim of brown around her eyes shrank slightly. "You know it. I'll get my coat," she said, and turning, she strode out of the kitchen, moving with that eerie grace.

From the paper, Jenks muttered, "Need her to stick around? Who does she think she is?"

"I heard that!" Ivy shouted from the sanctuary, and there was a squeal of pixies.

Glenn was moving to the door. "Take care of yourself, Rachel," he said, and I angled for a hug, my bad mood squeezed out by the big man who now smelled like pizza.

"You, too," I said, my smile fading as I became serious and rocked back. "Glenn, I want to get this woman, but it needs some solid planning."

"You don't need to tell me twice."

He turned to follow Ivy, and I touched his sleeve, stopping him. "Hey, if you see Ford today, will you tell him I'm ready to make an appointment?"

A smile holding what looked like pride came over him. "I will. Good for you, Rachel."

"Glenn?" came from the sanctuary, and he rolled his eyes.

"Coming, Mother," he called, and headed out, pizza box in hand. I heard his feet in the hall, a chorus of tiny good-byes, and the door closing. Content, I slid the pancake mix away.

Jenks sat on the rim of the coffeemaker, his wings fanning in the rising warmth. "You might want to get dressed if you're going to fight demons today," he said, and I looked at him from around my sleep-stringy hair.

"Will you watch the door while I shower?" I asked, and he buzzed his wings.

"Duh."

The pixies were loud, playing with the cherry tomatoes as I shuffled into my bathroom to get the water going. I was looking forward to a long soak, and I blissfully lost myself in lather, rinse, and repeat. Eyes closed, I stood under the hot water and breathed in the steam, reluctant to get out and get back to my life. I'd spent four years using a crappy, low-volume shower thanks to Mrs. Talbu, and the high-output, energy-inefficient head that Ivy had installed even before I'd moved in was better than therapy. Not that I needed therapy. Na-a-a-ah. Not me.

The spray suddenly went cold, and gasping, I pushed from the wall, making my back smack the one behind me. "Jenks!" I shouted in a burst of adrenaline. "Knock it off!"

The water hitting my feet grew warm, but my mood had soured and I got out and reached for my towel. My motions were rough as I dried my hair and worked my way down. Apparently Jenks thought I was clean enough. Wrapped in a towel, I swiped at the mirror to take stock. Not too bad, I decided, apart from lingering circles under my eyes. Not too bad at all for having been bitch-slapped by a banshee twice in as many days.

From outside the door came the clatter of pixy wings and a hesitant "Rachel?"

My towel slipped as I rummaged for a complexion spell. "Very funny, Jenks. I could have slipped and cracked my head open." The humming of wings grew louder, and I snatched my towel higher. "Jenks!" I exclaimed as he darted under the door. "I didn't say to come in!"

His wings a bright red, Jenks turned his back on me. "Sorry. Uh, I thought you ought to know Marshal is here," he said apologetically.

Panic iced through me, and I tightened my grip on my towel. "Get him out of here, Jenks!" I just about hissed. "I've been shunned!"

The pixy glanced over his shoulder, then revolved in the air to face me. "I think he knows already. He wants to talk to you. Rache, I'm sorry. He looks mad."

Shit, I'd been shunned. Marshal hadn't come over to hold my hand and tell me he could make it all better. I'd told him I was a white witch, and I was, but now..."

"Tell him to go away," I said, chickening out. "Tell him to leave before someone knows he's here and they shun him, too." But the pixy only shook his head.

"No. He has a right to tell you to your face."

I took a breath. My head started to hurt. This is going to be way fun. Turning to the mirror, I started brushing my hair. Arms crossed, Jenks waited for the right answer. The brush got tangled in my hair, and frustrated, I smacked it on the tiny counter. "I'll be out in three minutes," I said to get him to leave.

Nodding, he dropped to the floor. A faint glimmer of light, and he was gone.

I had underwear in the dryer and a camisole hanging over the industrial-size tub. My bathroom was really a glorified laundry room, but it was easier than sharing the more traditional bathroom across the hall with Ivy. Besides, I had jeans fresh from the dryer most days. No socks, though, I thought as I gave my hair a last brush and let it hang damp.

Worried, I quietly opened the door and looked hesitantly down the hall. It was cool out here compared to the moist warmth of the bathroom, and I could smell fresh coffee. Padding down the hall on silent bare feet, I peeked into the kitchen to find Marshal sitting with his back to me. I was out of his peripheral eyesight, and I hesitated.

He looked empty, or maybe just deep in thought as he stared at the grimy floor where the fridge had been, probably wondering what happened. His long legs were bent comfortably under the table, and the reflected sun glinted on his short curly hair. This was going to be hard. I didn't blame him for being mad at me. I'd told him I was a white witch and he had trusted me. Society said different.

Resolute, I pushed myself off the archway and into the kitchen. "Hi."

Marshal pulled his feet under him and spun. "Hey, you gave me a start," he said, his eyes wide and color flashing into his face. "I didn't expect you out for another ten minutes."

Giving him a tiny smile, I looked for something to hide behind, but all that was between us was space. Lots of new space. "You want some coffee?"

The cups scraped as I got two new ones out, and he said nothing as I filled them. He remained silent as I slid one in front of him. "I'm sorry," I said as I retreated, putting the island counter between us. Scared, almost, I took a sip. Hot bitterness slipped down. Gathering my courage, I set the mug by the sink. "Marshal-"

His eyes met mine, cutting me off. They weren't angry, they weren't sad, they were...empty. "Let me say something, and then I'll go," he said. "I think I'm allowed that much."

Depressed, I crossed my arms over my middle. My stomach hurt. "I'll get the shunning removed," I said. "You know this is a mistake. I'm not a black witch."

"When I went to the registrar's office about your classes this morning, my supervisor came in. He told me not to see you anymore," he said abruptly. "I think that's funny."

Funny. That's what he'd said, but his face was grim. "Marshal..."

"I don't like people telling me what I can't do," he added, sounding angry this time.

"Marshal, please."

His broad chest expanded and contracted, and he looked past me, toward the snowy garden. "Don't worry about it." Bringing his focus back into the kitchen, he shifted forward to reach into a back pocket of his jeans. "Here's your check. It will be a rainy day in the ever-after before they will cash it."

Swallowing, I stared at the envelope, feeling unreal as I took it. It was heavier than it should be, and I looked inside. My eyes widened. "Two tickets to the party at the top of the Carew Tower?" I said, shocked he even had them, much less was giving them to me. "Why?"

Marshal grimaced, eyes on the floor. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me to a New Year's Eve party tonight," he said, "but why don't you just take both tickets. You're going to need a lot of ambient energy to make that charm work. The top of the tower ought to be close enough."

My lips parted, and I stared at the formal invitations in my hand. I didn't know what was going on anymore. Jenks had said he was mad. Why was he helping me? "I can't take these."

He cracked his neck and backed up a step. "Sure you can. Put them in your pocket and say thank you. My supervisor is going to be there." Marshal sniffed. "You should meet him."

An uncertain smile came over my face. He wanted me to meet his supervisor? Maybe get a picture of us together? "And I thought I was wicked," I said, eyes warming. Damn it, he's leaving me. Well, what did I expect?

Marshal didn't smile back. "He's got red hair. Can't miss him." Gaze distant, he took up his coffee. "It's a fund-raiser for the university. Kalamack will be there. He's a major benefactor, so he's always invited. He's not a witch, so he probably won't care if you're shunned. You'll have someone to talk to until someone tells him."

My face lost expression at the utter blankness he had given the word "shunned," like it meant nothing. "Thank you," I said meekly. "Marshal, I'm sorry," I said as he reached for his coat, on the back of his chair, and I just about died when he put up a hand to stop me before I could get close. I froze where I was, feeling the hurt.

"It was fun," Marshal said, eyes down. "But then you got shunned, and, Rachel..." His gaze rose to mine, anger in it. "I like you. I like your family. I have fun when we get together, but what pisses me off is that I let myself start to think about spending my life with you, and then you go do something so stupid that it gets you shunned. I don't even want to know what it was."

"Marshal." I never had a choice. I never had a damned choice!

"I don't want to do this," he said, not letting me interrupt. "And trust me," he said, gesturing, "I thought hard about it, really weighed what I wanted and what I was willing to give for a possible life with you. I came over here ready to curse the world, to try to find out who did this to you and find a way to get the shunning rescinded, but then..." Marshal gritted his teeth, making his jaw muscles bunch. "I'm only going to get myself shunned. I can't live outside society. You're a fun, beautiful, fabulous woman," he said, as if trying to convince himself. "Even if you do get the shunning rescinded, what are you going to do next? I like my life." He looked at me, and I blinked fast. "Now I'm just angry that you can't be a part of it," he finished.

I couldn't seem to breathe, and I held the edge of the center counter to hide my vertigo.

"No hard feelings, okay?" he said as he turned.

I nodded. "No hard feelings," I breathed. Marshal wasn't a bad man for wanting out. He wanted to be part of something, and I clearly wasn't able to put my needs aside and put ours first. Maybe if my life wasn't so crappy, it wouldn't show as much and we could have tried, but not now. It wasn't his fault. I'd screwed up, and asking him to pay the price with me wasn't fair.

"Thanks, Marshal," I whispered. "For everything. And if you ever need help from the dark side..." I gestured helplessly as my throat closed. "Call me."

A faint smile turned the edges of his mouth up. "No one else."

And then he was gone, his steps fading as he walked away from me. I heard a soft murmur as he said good-bye to the pixies, and then the closing of a door.

Numb, I sank into my chair at the table. Eyes unseeing, I pulled my spell book closer, covering up the letter from the university. Wiping my eyes, I opened it and started searching.

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