But I knew she heard the lie as well as I did.

"I'm sorry," Ivy slurred, and a lump filled my throat. "I know you wanted things to be different."

I stared ahead, trying not to blink. They weren't going to make it here in time. Forcing a smile, I adjusted her blood-stained coat. "They'll be here in a few minutes."

"I'm scared."

I eased closer, not liking the chill she had. "I'm not going anywhere." Damn it, I didn't have anything to help her. Nothing. She was going to die, and all I could do was hold her hand. The tears slipped down, cold in the chill wind. I didn't bother to wipe them away. Sensing the end, the surface demon with the staff moved, easing down from his rock to hunch just outside the barrier. He looked like an Aborigine, wise, gaunt, and cautious where his kin were simply thin and hungry.

"Promise me you won't be my scion. I want Nina to do it."

Surprised, I stilled my hand against her hair. I'd thought she'd been sleeping. "Nina?" My voice had been bitter, and I couldn't help but wonder if some of this was Nina's fault. The young woman liked risks, was clever, and was in love with Ivy-and so addicted to the sensations that her master vampire could pull through her that she'd do just about anything to escape him even as she crawled back for more. If Ivy was an undead, she could claim Nina as her scion. At least that way, someone Nina loved would be abusing her instead of a half-mad, dying undead. Felix was insane from the sun already, and his children would soon be orphaned, vulnerable in the extreme unless another undead claimed them. No one would contest it.

"I can't do that to you," she said, and heartache filled me when I realized she was crying. "I don't want you to spend the rest of your life trying to keep me from walking into the sun. If you can't end my second life, then promise me that you'll walk away. That you won't try to help me. Understand that I'm lost."

Throat tight, I held her close. "I promise," I lied. The wind gusted and died, making the surface demon's tattered clothes shift. "I shouldn't have brought you here."

"I'm feeling better," she said, her breath becoming shallower. "Really."

"That's good," I said, my hand moving against an unbloodied part of her hair. My throat was tight. She'd tried so hard to be the person she wanted to be. She'd given me friendship, kept me from pain, sacrificed her goals to keep me alive. And I couldn't stop this. I couldn't give her anything back. I could only hold her hand.

Maybe it's enough, I thought miserably. The smallest things meant the world to her.

But then the head surface demon jerked straight. In a breath, he turned and vanished, rocks clinking to mark his passage. Another was an instant behind him. Tense, I pulled myself up, tasting the gritty night wind. Something had scared them off.

"Bis?" I whispered, the sound of my voice echoing back off the flat, rocky earth. But the sun was still up.

"I should have known," a bitterly proud and slightly accented voice said. "How did you do it? Elf magic?"

My pulse thudded. Breath held, I sent my eyes searching. A soft glow blossomed, and I found him. Just outside my circle and between me and the ruins of Cincinnati, Al stood in a soft puddle of light. His velvet frock coat was elegant, and his stance sure. The glow leaking from the archaic lantern hardly made it past his silver-buckled shoes, but I knew it was all that could get through the thick layer of smut on his soul-and I knew it bothered him, for once he'd been able to light an amphitheater to bright noon.

"Do what?" I whispered, not moving-hardly breathing. Al had tried to kill me. Okay, he'd tried to kill me a couple of times, but this last time I think he'd really meant it.

"My line is no longer in that stinking puddle of water," he said, nose wrinkled. "I came to find out why before the sun set. It was you?" Lip curling, he dusted a nearby boulder with a silk cloth and set the lantern down. "Trying to curry favor makes you weak."

"Al . . . ," I breathed, and pain flashed across his face, ruddy from the setting sun.

"Do not call me that. My name is Gally."

"Al, please," I said again, carefully extricating myself from Ivy, hoping she would remain asleep. The heartache of his bitter abandonment hit me hard, my emotions already paper thin because of Ivy. I felt new tears threaten, hating them. "It was an accident. I was trying to . . ." My throat closed up. Ivy slumped behind me, but he wouldn't help, and that hurt even more.

"Oh-h-h-h," he said in mock distress. "Your sad, sad little friend is dying."

He could save her with a word, but I remained silent, standing before him, hating his bitter callousness. He was better than this. I'd seen it in unguarded moments.

"You smell like carrion," he said, nose wrinkled. Behind me Ivy stirred but didn't wake. "Butterflies like carrion." He paused as if in speculation. "No, that's elf. I can smell the stink from here, even over the putrid reek of burnt amber."

Nothing in him had changed. I knew it wouldn't have. My finding love with Trent hadn't hurt him this bad. I was a symptom, not the core of what brought this hatred out. The fear that he might kill Trent just to spite me was real, though, and I backed up a step.

"Silent?" He sniffed, looking disgusted. "Miracles do happen."

Why is he still here? I heard the scrabbling of claws and I glanced at Ivy. "I could use your help," I whispered, knowing he never would.

"Demons don't help," he said bitterly. "Demons torment. Can't you tell the difference?"

"That's not how I saw you."

Al eyed the thin bands of smut crawling over the surface of my circle, his lips twisting in jealousy. "You did at first."

"Because that's all you showed me," I shot back. I'd thought he'd understood me. I'd trusted him, and he'd turned his back on me because Trent was an elf, the same as the woman he'd once loved and hadn't been brave enough to fight for. "What did I ever do to you?"

Al uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, anger shining from his eyes. "You hurt me!" he yelled, giving in and punching my circle.

With an inward rush of energy, my circle fell into him with a pop.

Not expecting it, Al lurched, his hat falling off as he stumbled back and caught his balance. I stared at him in shock as his hat rolled to a stop almost at my feet. There'd been an instant of connection between us, an undeniable spark. He looked just as surprised, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"H-how?" I stammered, then renewed the circle as claws scraped in the ugly red light.

His lips parted to show his blocky teeth. Al put a careful finger to my bubble. The black crawled to him, and when he touched it, my circle fell.

"Stop that!" I shouted, heart pounding as I set it anew, but he was already across it and in here with me. Something was wrong. He'd broken my circle, and he hadn't even tried.

"That little bitch!" Al shouted, and Ivy stirred.

I gasped as Al strode to me, halting with an unexpected shortness when I raised my hand in threat. "She changed your soul, yes?" the demon demanded, fidgeting and so close I could smell the smoke from his fire on him. "Newt changed it so that puking elf goddess couldn't find you by your aura?"

I nodded, not breathing until he took three steps back. Okay, he was pissed, but he wasn't choking me.

"The crazy bitch changed your aura to mimic mine!"

My mouth dropped open. Horrified, I looked at my circle. Jenks had said my aura was different, but he never said it looked like Al's! But then, mine wasn't covered in as much smut and probably looked brighter. That's why the demon had been able to drop my circle with a touch. Great. Now I had nothing to block his spells with!

"She patterned your new aura after mine. The bitch!" Al wasn't looking at me, hands on his hips as he watched the surface demons throw rocks at the lantern he'd left behind until it shattered and Al's globe of light rolled in the dust. "That's how you were able to move my line."

"But why?" Had it been the crazy demon's perverted attempt at a joke? Or maybe she thought it would bring us back together. But then a new thought sparked through me. "If our auras are the same, then Treble can teach me how to jump the lines."

Al spun, coattails furling. Expression hard, he pointed a finger at me. "I share my soul resonance with no one!"

My skin was prickling. He was pulling on the line, gathering energy to him. Our eyes met, and he grimaced when he realized I could feel it. He took a breath, and frantic, I dove for cover. "Knock it off!" I shouted as a ball of black-tinted energy exploded against the ground, peppering me with bits of rock. "It wasn't my idea!" I added, scrabbling to my feet.

But he was already deep in a chant, a glowing mass of forced power stretching between his fingers. Crap on toast. He was using old battle magic. "Al!" I protested, then stiffened when Al's lantern light rolled into my circle and it fell with the sensation of sparkling tingles.

"Ivy," I whispered, turning to see a surface demon creeping to her.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered. Ignoring Al, I dove for her. Howling, I pulled a massive wave of energy from the line. Al lurched to get out of my way, his goat-slitted eyes wide when I threw the unfocused energy at the surface demon instead of him. The surface demon skittered back, scuttling away with an evil chatter.

"And don't come back!" I shouted, shaking as I reinstated the circle. "Or I'll give you more of the same!"

My skin prickled. I spun back to Al. But the demon wasn't even looking at me. Relieved, I turned to Ivy, seeing her eyes black and beautiful. "You okay?" I asked her, and she smiled.

"I'll miss watching you work," she said, more alive than I'd seen her in two hours.

Pissed, I pulled the hair out of my mouth and glared at Al. "You're a prick for standing there when I need help, you know that?" I said, then ducked as something flew over my head.

"Rachel!" Bis called, the cat-size gargoyle winging in a tight circle to drop down onto the rock Ivy was slumped against. "Jenks said you were going to walk to the church. Hold on. I'll be right back. Trent's at the wrong line."

Trent? I took an elated breath, but the little guy was gone. The sun had gone down unnoticed, and his pebbly black skin was hard to see against the night. I'd hardly recognized him before he'd vanished.

My knees were shaking, and I turned to find Al was gone. Coward. "You left me!" I shouted. "And I can love anyone I want!" I added, but there was no one there but Ivy to hear me.

"Son of a bastard," I muttered, hope a quick flash as a figure stepped from nothing in the soft sound of displaced air. There was the quick pulse of leather wings, and Bis was gone again.

"Nina!" I had expected Trent, but it was Nina, the athletic woman in her classy dress suit and black nylons bolting to Ivy with a vampiric quickness despite her high heels.

"You've been here for hours!" Nina exclaimed, black eyes angry as she fell to kneel before Ivy and covered her with her jacket. "Why didn't you give her any blood?"

It hurt when she said it like that. "She doesn't want any," I said, my relief overwhelming.

Ivy pushed weakly at Nina, eyes slipping shut. "No. I'm okay. Rachel did what I asked."

"She doesn't want blood. Stop forcing her," I said.

Hunched over Ivy, making her Hispanic elegance into a frightening shadow, Nina all but hissed, "This is what she is. What she wants means nothing when it comes to keeping her alive."

But if she quit striving for who she wanted to be, Ivy might as well be dead.

I took a breath to tell Nina to back off, startled when Bis jumped back into existence. The little gargoyle was on Trent's shoulder, and he immediately popped back across the lines, for Jenks, probably.

Thank you, God. Trent shuddered as the stink of burnt amber filled his lungs, and something flip-flopped in me. My eyes darted to where Al had last been to be sure he was gone. Trent was here. I didn't have to do this alone. He wouldn't let Ivy die. We'd be in time.

"Rachel." Trent's usual slacks and dress shirt looked out of place, sheened with red from the glow in the sky. His dress shoes slipped on the dust, and he caught his balance effortlessly. His pace crossing the dust was fast, and his eyes were quick. Sunset, even in the ever-after, was truly his best time. "Thank God you're all right. Jenks told me what happened. Is Ivy okay?"

"She's hurt bad," I said as he reached me. Nina was trying to get her pearl button undone from a silk cuff, but Ivy wouldn't let her, insistently promising she was okay. "She's got internal injuries and a concussion." I hesitated, surprised at the sudden lump in my throat. "I probably shouldn't have moved her, but I had to get to a line . . ."

"Why the hell am I always last!" Jenks complained, joining us in a bright flash of pixy dust. His bright sparkle sifted down like a temporary sunbeam over Ivy, making her smile and lift her hand to give him a place to land. She was whispering to Jenks, comforting him when it should have been the other way around.

Bis landed on the rock above them, clearly anxious to start jumping us out. His lion-tufted tail wrapped around his feet, looking both submissive and protective-dangerous even as the white tufts on his ears made him cute.

We had to go-but I nearly lost it when Trent pulled me close, smelling of green things and spice, his touch real and loving, reminding me of everything I wanted but was afraid to call my own. Suddenly I was fighting the urge to cry as fingers strong from pulling in unruly horses and tapping out keyboard commands gentled me closer. I'd had to keep it together, and now there was someone to help. Ivy was going to make it. She'd make it! She had to.

"You did the right thing," Trent whispered, the deep understanding in his voice bringing my defenses down. I'd never have expected it a year ago, but now . . . after seeing him lose everything to follow his heart, I could. I could accept his comfort, show my vulnerability-even if it might not last. The undeniable truth was, he was meant for better things than me. One day Ellasbeth would have him, and I'd be left with the memory of who he had wanted to be.

"Rachel?"

But I'd be damned if I didn't take what I could of the time we had. Catching my tears, I wiped my face, giving Trent a thankful smile as I pulled back and looked for Bis. The little gargoyle had his wings draped around him, looking like a devil himself. "Bis? Can you jump her to Trent's?"

"Not until I give her some blood!" Giving up on her sleeve, Nina used her little teeth to rip the button off. "She can't be moved yet," the living vampire said as she pushed her sleeve up. Her naturally dark skin showed the scars even in the dim light, and her panic at finding Ivy this close to death obvious. "I can't believe you let her sit here on the cold ground!"

"Easy," Trent said when I stiffened, and he lifted my chin, reading the strain I'd lived with for the last few hours, the fear. "Why is it harder when those we love are in danger than when it's just us?" he whispered, and I blinked fast. I wasn't going to cry, damn it. I wasn't!

"No," Ivy said again, her eyes black as she found Nina's. "No," she said more stridently, and Nina hunched over her, aching with her need to help her.

"Ivy, sweetheart, please. Let me make you stronger so we can move you."

Bis waited, wings half open, unsure and unwilling to do anything that might hurt Ivy. Trent, though, was grimacing. He knew it for the lie it was as well as I. Oh, I was sure blood would help stabilize her, but it would be an unredeemable step backward, back to where Nina, in all her expensive perfume and trendy clothes, was-back to where Ivy was striving to pull Nina from despite Nina's assurances that she wasn't allowing Felix into her mind anymore. The clever woman was too in control most days not to be.

"No." Ivy's voice was stronger. "No blood. Not like this. I'd rather die twice."

"But, Ivy . . . ," Nina protested, breaking off when Ivy fumbled to pull Nina's sleeve down and kissed her fingertips. Frustrated, Nina knelt over Ivy. "It doesn't have to be this hard!" she begged, but Ivy only smiled lovingly, feeling good that she'd resisted, that she'd won again for another day. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

I turned away as Ivy patted Nina's back, comforting her. In Ivy's eyes, Nina was the one who needed help.

"Bis. Go. My surgical staff is waiting," Trent said, and the gargoyle awkwardly hopped from the rock. "We need to get out of here before the surface demons find us."

"Too late." My eyes lifted to the surrounding rocks, glad they hadn't shown themselves yet as they evaluated the threat Nina and Trent might be.

"I thought so." Trent sighed, turning to watch my back. "I'm sorry about the church."

"My church? What's wrong with the church?"

Jenks's blur of wings shone against Trent's fair, almost transparent hair, glowing red as it picked up the red ever-after dust. "The pixy-piss vampires have overrun it," he almost snarled. "Stinking up the place and stomping everything like fairy maggots looking for spiders. They thought you might jump to the line in the garden, and they've got enough manpower there to make Piscary puke-if the putrid pus pile of vampire piss were still alive."

Ivy chuckled, the laugh choking off in a pained sound making Nina's eyes go black again. Bis carefully reached a clawed foot out to touch her, and when Bis and Ivy winked out of the ever-after, the tight knot around my gut finally began to ease.

Nina hunched over the space Ivy had been in for a moment before rising to lean dejectedly against the rock. Slowly her expression changed as she realized where she was. Tension wound through her, turning her from uneasy to a threatening shadow, smeared red with the remaining light in the sky. When I'd first met Nina, she'd been lively and eager for anything new. Now, after almost a year under a failing master's warped attention, she was still looking for thrills, but she was also twitchy and unpredictable-her jealousy of any attention I might show Ivy becoming increasingly violent. I didn't believe for a second that Felix was ignoring her, but every time I brought it up, Ivy got mad, wanting her happy lie rather than the inconvenient truth.

"Word got out you were finding undead souls," Trent said softly.

"That's not true!" I exclaimed, but he was nodding as if already knowing it.

"Even so, every undead vampire in the city now believes you can," he added. "Especially after what happened last July. In their minds, they don't understand why you haven't done it."

No wonder they were camped out at my church. "I don't think you can tie a soul to a mind when the body is dead," I said. "That's why souls leave after the first death." I was tired, but I didn't dare relax, and I strained for any clink of rock, any sliding of dust.

"They don't want to believe that." Trent cupped my elbow. Tingles spread from there to the small of my back where his other hand had gone to pull me closer to him. "We'll figure this out. I'm not entirely penniless, you know."

That he was there to help without my asking was a guilty relief, but I didn't know how he could. He'd lost almost everything in discrediting the truth of his illegal manufacture of genetic medicines and the very drug that the vampires depended upon for survival. It didn't sit well that both the vampires and the elves had gone after him because of me, and I bowed my head when I realized I'd done the same thing to Al, bankrupting the demon before he'd had enough and left. I was an albatross, pulling down those who meant the most to me. Maybe I should leave before I brought Trent down, too.

Trent's arms were around me, but I couldn't speak, unwilling to breathe in his clean scent and feel the whisper of wild magic that sometimes rose from him like aftershave. But the guilt of him losing almost everything because of me was a sharp, insistent thorn.

"He still cares for you," Trent said, and I looked up, confused. "Al, I mean. He was here, wasn't he?"

Oh. That. Grimacing, I turned in Trent's arms, feeling his grip ease as I looked at Al's line, knocked off its path by my desperate pull on it. Al's jealousy wasn't born of affection, but from a weird kinship and maybe a little envy. I'd stood against the demons to keep who I loved, and Al had worked within the shadows of their hatred for a thousand years for the same reason, ultimately failing. He was bitter. "How can you tell?"

Smiling, Trent tucked a gritty strand of hair behind my ear. "You have that 'I yelled at someone who deserves it' look. He'll come around."

Sour, I bobbed my head and pulled entirely from him. "That's what I'm afraid of."