Hidden by the covers, I felt his hands move, guessing that he was angling for something. "You," he said, his eyes darting behind me to Al.

"Me," I drawled, shifting my weight to stop his motion to his pillow. "That's Al, and you, of course, are the rat." I leaned in, inches from his face. "Isn't this nice, all of us here together? Do me a favor. Don't get up. Just sit there and listen, and maybe I can convince Al not to steal everything in your little rat hole here."

"You b.i.t.c.h!" Nick spat. "You did it again! You brought a demon into my home!"

My face twisted. "Yeah, but this time, I did it on purpose."

I could hear Al humming "Tiptoe Through the Tulips," punctuated by little mmms of discovery as he unearthed who knew what from the crates behind me. I'd seen Nick's apartment. What he had here in his last-ditch hidey-hole was probably priceless.

"How did you find me?" he said, anger creasing his brow.

I pushed his hair back to run a finger over the scar Al had given him. "How do you think? He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake."

From the corner, Al shifted his tune. "So be good, or I'll rip your f.u.c.king head off."

Nick sat up, shoving me back to a stand. In his hands was an amulet. Al hissed, but I was way ahead of him, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the clock and swinging it by the cord into Nick's fist.

Swearing, Nick dropped the amulet and I kicked it away. "Don't touch it, Al!" I warned when the demon went for it, and Al stopped, looking at me indignantly, until a demon-size bubble rose from it. If he'd been anywhere nearer, he would've been caught.

"I knew it was a trap, itchy witch," the demon said, but then a flash of white exploded against the inside of the circle. I felt the bubble go down, leaving a white disk of ash where the carpet had burned away. "But I didn't know it was a lethal one," he continued, and I fought the urge to smack the sniveling human. Nick had wanted me in it, not Al.

Nick bolted, and instinct kicked in. Lunging, I grabbed him around the waist, letting go before we hit the floor, then rolled into a stand and smacked a front kick in his middle. His breath whooshed out, and he clutched his stomach. Swell, he was in his underwear. I hated arguing with men in their underwear. "Get up!" I shouted, hoping there was no one upstairs.

"Ohhh, nice one, little gra.s.shopper," Al said as he rummaged through a crate.

Ignoring Al, I yanked Nick to his feet and shoved him back on the bed, where he hunched over his knees, feet on the floor. "Poor Nicky," I said as he struggled for air. "Can't make a bubble cause I'll just shove you into it. Can't tap a line cause we're better than you. And your pixy is gone. Don't you even wonder where he is? Or did you send him to spy on us?"

Nick looked up, ears red and having gotten in only one good breath. "What do you want?" he wheezed. "You want something, b.i.t.c.h, or you wouldn't be here." Hunched over, he glared at Al. "Don't touch that!"

From the edge of my sight, I watched Al raise a multiple-pipe instrument to his lips. It looked old, and with his fingers bare of his usual gloves, he played a few notes, then carelessly tossed it back into the crate. Nick cringed, and I brought his attention back to me with a shove that pushed him into the wall.

"I want you," I said, answering his question. "Or more specifically, I want your nasty, devious, light-fingered skills. Wanna job?"

Nick looked up-I hadn't hit him that hard-and smiling, as if I'd just given him the upper hand, he pointed to his pants on the chair. Wary, I checked the pockets before throwing them at him. "Right," he said as he shoved one foot, then the other, in. "Why would I help you?"

Behind me, I heard Al sigh dramatically. "I told you, itchy witch. Let me. Violence works so-o-o much faster."

My eye twitched at the sound of Nick's zipper. "Oh, he'll do it," I said, tension winding tighter. "He won't be able to resist."

Eyebrows raised, as if asking for permission, Nick clicked on the small bedside lamp sitting on a milk crate. His scars became visible, reminders of our beginnings. "I'm not doing a job for you," he said as he roughly pulled a white T-shirt on to hide them. "I don't care that you have your demon on a leash."

Al growled, and I hoped he'd keep playing the good cop. Maybe I needed to get rougher.

"Al leashed? Right," I said, standing with my hip c.o.c.ked. "The only reason you're not on the auction block buying me a set of rooms in the ever-after is because I don't want you."

Nick hesitated, eying me as he shoved his arms into the sleeves of a plaid shirt. Long fingers moving dexterously, he stood before me in the low-ceilinged room and did up the lowest four b.u.t.tons. "You admit you're a demon," he said bitingly.

My face burned, and I stayed silent.

"What do you want?" Nick yanked a pair of white socks from a pile and sat on his bed.

Al was rummaging again, and ignoring his muttered prediction of doom, I said, "I want you to help me steal something."

Nick, true to form, sucked on his teeth and eyed me. "What?"

He didn't mean "what" as in "excuse me." He meant what did I want him to steal, and a quiver rose and fell. I almost had him.

Nick waited for me to answer, and when I didn't, he pointed to his boots, out of his reach. "Fair enough," he said. "What's in it for me?"

Smiling, I felt his laces, sensing the charmed silver in them. Nice. "Nothing," I said as I yanked the laces free and tossed him the first boot. "You get nothing. Not a d.a.m.n thing."

His second boot landed next to the first, untouched. Sitting on the low cot, Nick put his elbows on his knees and looked up at me from around his s.h.a.ggy hair. An almost-hidden disappointment was in him for my having found his means of possible escape, and I could nearly see him rea.s.sessing the situation. "Remove my mark, and I'll think about it," he grumbled.

Al came forward, and as I handed him the laces, he intoned, "It's my mark, not hers."

"So she owes you a mark instead of me," Nick said. His tight face turned to me. "I bet you could get rid of it overnight, Rachel. Or don't you charge for your services?"

I hardly felt Al's hand on my arm as I shoved it off. Feeling like Ivy, I sauntered to him, confident, in control, and p.i.s.sed to the ends of the earth. Did he just call me a s.l.u.t? Again? Did he just call me a s.l.u.t? Again? "I'm not taking your lousy little mark," I said, close enough to do some damage if I tried. "I'm still trying to get rid of the one you foisted on me." "I'm not taking your lousy little mark," I said, close enough to do some damage if I tried. "I'm still trying to get rid of the one you foisted on me."

Knowing he'd gotten to me, Nick smiled. "We have nothing to talk about. Get out."

This wasn't going well. Maybe Al was right and I didn't have it in me to be the bad cop.

Al was gleefully rubbing his hands together, and my promise to abandon reality if I couldn't do this came crashing down on me. "I told you!" he crowed. "What color do you want your walls painted, Rachel? Snag him now and be done with it."

Nick's face got ugly, and I held up a hand. "You owe me, Nick."

Grabbing an unlaced boot, he shoved his foot into it, hard. "I don't owe you anything."

"How do you figure that?" I shot back, hand on my hip.

He wedged his foot in the other boot. "The focus?" he mocked.

"You sent it to me!" I said loudly.

"I thought you were dead!" he shouted back.

"And you never bothered to check!" I said. "Not my problem!"

Al chuckled as he tried on tribal masks, and I frowned, not liking him watch us argue.

"I had to get it back," Nick said sullenly. "I'd already promised it to the coven."

"And you gave them me instead," I said bitterly. "I was in Alcatraz, Nick. They want to give me a lobotomy. They lace the food with compounds that block your ability to do magic. I don't owe you s.h.i.t."

He stood, and seeing a hint of remorse, I crossed my arms over my chest. If he was going for the door, he'd find himself on the floor again. "Maybe lying to me is acceptable to you," I said. "And maybe selling information to demons about me is not a problem. And maybe I was a naive sucker of a girl who deserved everything she got." My voice was rising, but I couldn't help it. "But if that's what I was to you, then that's what I was. My mistake for thinking I was something else."

I sounded like a hurt girlfriend, and I hated it. I thought I'd let this go, but apparently not.

"I've learned one thing through this c.r.a.pfest, Nick," I said, forcing myself to be calm. "People treat you like they see you, not who you really are. Let's say you're right. Let's say I'm the bad guy here, and you're the poor abused human. Is that who you want to be? The helpless human? 'Cause that's not how I saw you. And if I'm the big bad witch who is unreasonable and mean, then that's how I'm going to act."

A year of bottled-up frustration surfaced, and his eyes widened as I came at him.

He raised a hand to block my punch, and I shifted my grip, levering his own arm under his chin as I shoved him back into the wall. Yelping, he froze when I used my free hand to find his nuts. That fast, it was over, and Al was laughing.

"Still think you don't owe me anything?" I shouted, inches from his face, and giving a little squeeze. Okay, maybe I could do bad cop.

"Ow," he said, not moving apart from his chest as he breathed fast. "Let go, Rachel."

"Why?" I said. "You don't use em!"

"I'm not helping you," Nick said breathily. "You can go screw a demon for all I care."

From behind me Al chuckled. "No offense, but this is a lot more entertaining."

Having made my point, I let go and backed up out of his reach. I was shaking inside, but I wasn't ready to give up yet. Not by a long shot. "You're not the man I thought you were," I said. "Thief extraordinaire? Right. Fine. I'll go talk to Rose. I should have gone to her anyway. Come on, Al. Nick doesn't have the guts for it."

"Rose?" Al said, confused as he looked at me from around an open crate.

"Yeah, the gal at the place with the thing?" Turning my back on Nick, I went to the middle of the room and stood as if waiting for Al to join me so we could pop out. In a bad temper that wasn't faked, I scoffed, "You don't think you're the only thief I've run into, do you? The Turn diamond? Or England's lodestone? Who do you think lifted them?" I was making this up as I went along, but the diamond was legendary, as was the lode-stone.

Catching my drift, Al sidled closer to me. "You are a versatile itchy witch," he cooed, and I wiggled my fingers to get his lips away from my ear.

Nick, though, had paused. "No one's lifted them," he said, doubt on his face. "They're right where they belong, under enough security to kill a c.o.c.kroach."

I smiled brightly. "I'm sure you're right. Al? We've got only a few hours."

"Quite right!" he said brightly, and I slipped my arm in his, dropping one foot behind the other to pose with him. G.o.d, Nick was easier to manipulate than my brother.

My heart pounded as I felt the line take us, and I had a moment of panic. This didn't count. If Al took me out of here before I could finish the deal, it didn't count!

"Wait!" Nick's voice came thinly, and I heard Al swear, but we misted back into existence to see Nick standing there with his long, sensitive hand outstretched in doubt. A surge of adrenaline and s.e.xual excitement pulsed in me. s.h.i.t, I'm not getting turned on over this? s.h.i.t, I'm not getting turned on over this?

Al must have sensed it, because he leaned closer, his hand curving around my side, then withdrawing lightly across my back to make me quiver. "Sweet mother of chaos," he breathed. "Rachel, you are indeed one of us. Have your time in the sun. You're worth the extra wait."

Licking my lips, I stood, unable to move. The blood pounded low in my groin, and I clenched my teeth. d.a.m.n it, I was not getting turned on by besting Nick in a game of bluff!

Am I?

"What's the take?" Nick asked warily, eying me so closely that I had to wonder if he knew what was going through my mind.

Swallowing, I pulled from Al. "I want to steal something from Trent." Something more than his hoof pick this time. Something more than his hoof pick this time.

Al dropped back, humming happily about this little witch of mine.

Nick looked me up and down. "Lab, office, or living quarters?"

d.a.m.n it, I think Yvegot him! There'd be the obligatory p.i.s.sing contest, but he'd do it. "Thief's choice, just not his living quarters." There'd be the obligatory p.i.s.sing contest, but he'd do it. "Thief's choice, just not his living quarters."

Nick grabbed a couple of twist ties from the trash and laced a boot closed. "Why not his rooms?"

I shrugged, shifting farther from both men. "I promised I wouldn't."

"Can I take a person?" Nick asked, and I recoiled.

"No. A thing. I don't care what it is. I figured you'd know better than me what Trent has in his bas.e.m.e.nt that he's not sharing with the world. It has to be something embarra.s.sing and sensational. Something he wants back, bad, but doesn't want to admit having."

Nick looked up from tying his second boot with a twist tie. "Blackmail? He gets the coven off your case or you go public with it?" His head shook. "He'll just kill you."

"Which is why I'm giving it back before he has the chance," I said. I didn't think Trent would kill me. If I died, even disgraced and shunned, his biolabs would hit the front page.

Nick looked at me in disbelief. "You want me to steal just so you can give it back?"

"That's my itchy witch for you," Al said with a sigh. "Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos, I will take your mark back for everything in this room."

"Only if I'm not included on the list," he shot back, and Al scrunched his features up in disappointment.

"d.a.m.n."

"It's a prank, Nick," I said, bringing the conversation back to me. "You know, for fun? Trent is going to announce his candidacy for city mayor on Friday. The press will be there. I'm going to give it back then."

His expression brightening, Nick bobbed his head. "He'll press charges."

My breath puffed out of me. "Only if I'm really lucky," I muttered.

Nick looked at me, read my tells, and knew I wasn't lying. I needed hira, and that alone was enough. Not because he liked me or wanted to help, but because when it was done, I was going to owe him, and he'd never let me forget it.

Still balancing on a no, he eyed me. "I don't see what you're getting here," he said.

Smiling, I sauntered forward, moving slowly as I put my arms around his neck and leaned in. "That's because you're a thief, Nicky," I whispered, lips next to his ear. Pulling back, I gave him a kiss. It was dead. There was nothing there. No hatred, no anger, no love. Nothing. I didn't care. He was a means to an end. Nothing more.

Our lips parted, and I waited. I could see in his expression that he knew it was done. And somehow that moved our relationship to a completely unexpected level. Business. Business.

"I know exactly what you need," he said, and I smiled.

Itook a deep breath, pulling the garden-damp air deep into me and feeling as if the golden haze of afternoon pooled inside me, all yellow and swirly. There was a hint of chill in the air this early in the spring, and the tang of Jenks's stump, still burning, reminded me of fall. It might burn for months, the roots smoldering underground as it slowly erased Jenks's heartache. Even so, it felt good to be home and in the garden.

There was only the faint hissing of cars to remind me that I was in the suburbs of Cincinnati; all else was quiet. Jenks's family was in mourning, and the garden seemed empty. In my hand was a handful of hickory twigs, still green and sporting new leaves. I'd used the last of the bark sc.r.a.pings this morning making up a new batch of pain amulets. I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to need for tonight's escapade, but pain amulets were a good bet. Especially if I didn't have a splat gun-thanks to Pierce.

Motions slow and provocative, I went up the worn back-porch steps, daring the coven to take a potshot at me, but it was probable that Vivian was at the coven, relating how I'd given Brooke to a demon. They had to have heard about the fairies by now, too. Ceri had taken the survivors with her when she'd left in the same cab I'd pulled up in this morning with Nick. All but one fairy, apparently, which I had yet to see and Jenks didn't know about.

My hand on the screen door, I looked over my shoulder at the garden, remembering how dangerous it had been when I was four inches tall. Fairies and pixies were the Arnolds of the Inderland world as far as I was concerned. Suddenly uneasy, I looked to the invisible ley line, feeling like someone was watching. My eyes rose to see Bis sleeping on the steeple. Creeped out, I darted inside as if the monster under the bed had taken up residence under my porch.

The screen door smacked behind me, making me jump, and I kicked my running sneakers off, leaving chunks of dirt that Ivy would eventually yell at me about. I shut the main door by leaning back against the thick wood, and my gaze fell on the tiny arrows still in Ivy's couch. Had it been only yesterday?

Ivy and Nick's soft bickering in the kitchen was soothing. They'd been at it since downloading and printing out the blueprints of Trent's outbuildings from the city's public files. Ivy insisted that she'd gone through a secure server and that the download would be undetected, but I was sure we were on someone's list now.