Wide-eyed in panic, she shoved me off her, and I fell into the inside of her field, hitting it like a wall. "Get out of the way," she ordered, starting to draw a second circle inside the first.

Shocked, I pulled myself to the center, and she smeared her blood behind me.

"Ceri—" I tried again, stopping when I saw her intertwining the line with the first, enforcing it. I'd never seen that before. Latin words fell from her lips, dark and threatening. Pinpricks of power crawled over my skin, and I stared when she cut her pinkie and started a third circuit.

Silent, desperate tears marked her face as she finished and invoked it. A third sheet of black rose over us, heavy and oppressive. She switched the filthy gardening blade to her bloodied hand and, shaking, prepared to cut her left thumb.

"Stop!" I protested. Frightened, I grabbed her wrist, sticky with her own blood.

Her head swung up. Blue eyes lost in terror met mine. Her skin was chalk white.

"It's okay," I said, wondering what Newt had done to cause this self-assured, unflappable woman to lose it. "We're in the church. It's sanctified. You built a damn fine circle." I looked at it humming over my head, worried. The triple circle was black with a thousand years of curses that Algaliarept, the demon I'd saved her from, made her pay for. I'd never felt such a strong barrier.

Ceri's pretty head shook back and forth, lips parted to show tiny teeth. "You have to call Minias. God help us. You have to call him!"

"Minias?" I questioned. "Who in hell is Minias?"

"Newt's familiar," Ceri stammered, her blue eyes showing her fear.

Was she nuts? Newt's familiar was another demon. "Give me that knife," I said, wrestling it from her. Her thumb was bleeding, and I looked for something to wrap it in. We were safe. Newt could have the run of the back for all I cared. Sunup was near, and I'd sat in a circle and waited for it before. Memories of my ex-boyfriend Nick rose through me and vanished.

"You have to call him," Ceri gushed, and I stared when she fell to her knees and started scribing a plate-size circle with her blood, tears spotting the old oak timbers as she worked.

"Ceri, it's okay," I said, standing over her in confusion.

But when she looked up, my confidence faltered. "No, it isn't," she said, her voice low, the elegant accent that gave away her royal beginnings now carrying the sound of defeat.

A wave of something pulsed, bending the bubble of force that sheltered us. My gaze went to the half sphere of ever-after around us, and from above came a clear bong of the church bell resonating. The black sheet protecting us quivered, flashing the pure color of Ceri's blue aura for an instant before returning to its demon-fouled black state.

From the archway at the back of the church came Newt's soft voice. "Don't cry, Ceri. It won't hurt as bad the second time."

Ceri jerked, and I snatched her arm to keep her from running for the open door and breaking her own circle. Her flailing hand struck my face, and at my yelp she collapsed to slump at my feet. "Newt broke the sanctity," Ceri said around her sobs. "She broke it. I can't go back there. Al lost a bet, and I twisted her curses for ten years. I can't go back there, Rachel!"

Frightened, I put my hand on her shoulder, but then hesitated. Newt was female. Then my face blanked. Newt was in the hallway—the sanctified part.

My thoughts returned to that pulse of energy. Ceri had once said it was possible for a demon to desanctify the church, but that it was unlikely as it cost far too much. And Newt had done so without a thought. Shit.

Swallowing, I looked to find Newt framed by the hallway, well within what had been holy ground. Rex was still in the demon's arms, smiling a stupid cat smile. The orange feline wouldn't let me touch her, but she'd purr while an insane demon pet her. Figures.

With her black staff tucked in the crook of her elbow and draped in her elegantly cut robes, Newt looked almost biblical. Her femininity was obvious once her gender was settled, her black, unblinking eyes placidly taking in Ceri's circle in the middle of the all-but-barren sanctuary.

I crossed my arms over myself to hide my near nakedness. Not that there was that much to hide. My heart pounded and my breath came fast. The demon mark on the underside of my foot—proof that I owed Newt a favor for returning me back from the ever-after into reality last solstice—throbbed as if aware that its maker was in the room.

From beyond the tall stained-glass windows and the open front door came the soft whoosh of a passing car and the twitters of early birds. I prayed the pixies would stay in the garden. The knife was red and sticky in my hand from Ceri's blood, and I felt ill.

"It's too late to flee," she said, taking the knife back. "Call Minias."

Newt stiffened. Rex jumped from her arms to land upon my desk. Panicked, the cat leapt to the floor, scattering papers as she streaked into the hall. Red robe furling, Newt strode to Ceri's circle, slamming her spinning staff into it. "Minias doesn't belong here!" she shouted. "Give it to me! It's mine. I want it back!"

Adrenaline made my head hurt. I watched the circle quiver, then hold.

"We have only moments after she becomes serious," Ceri whispered, white-faced but looking more collected. "Can you distract her?"

I nodded, and Ceri began to prepare her spell. Tension pulled my shoulders tight, and I prayed my conversation skills were better than my magic. "What do you want? Tell me, and I'll give it to you," I said, voice quaking.

Newt began to pace the circle, looking like a caged tiger as her deep red robe hissed against the floor. "I don't remember." Confusion made her face hard. "Don't call him," the demon warned, black eyes shining. "Every time I do, he makes me forget. I want it back, and you have it."

Oh, this just gets better and better. Newt's gaze went to Ceri, and I blocked her view.

I had a half-second warning before the demon again jabbed her staff at the circle. "Corrumpro!" she shouted as it connected. At my feet, Ceri trembled when the outermost circle flashed into utter blackness as Newt owned it. With a little smile, Newt touched the circle, and it vanished to leave two thin, shining bands of unreality between us and death, dressed in a dark red robe and wielding a black staff.

"Your skills are much improved, Ceridwen Merriam Dulciate," Newt said. "Al is an exceptional teacher. Perhaps enough that you might be worth my kitchen."

Ceri didn't look up. The curtain of her pale hair hid what she was doing, and its tips were stained red from her blood. My breath was fast, and I continued to turn to keep Newt in sight until my back was again facing the open door to the church.

"I remember you," Newt said, tapping the butt of her staff along the circle where it met the floor. Each jab sent a deeper wash of black crawling over the barrier. "I put your soul back together when you traveled the lines. You owe me a favor." I stifled a shiver when the demon's gaze went past my bare, pasty legs to Ceri. "Give me Ceri, and I'll call it null."

I stiffened. Kneeling behind me, Ceri found her strength. "I have my soul," she stated, voice quivering. "I don't belong to anyone."

Newt seemed to shrug, fingers playing with her necklace. "Ceri's signature is all over the imbalance on your soul," the demon said to me as she moved to Ivy's piano and turned her back on me. "She is twisting curses for you, and you're taking them. If that doesn't make her your familiar, then what does?"

"She twisted a curse for me," I admitted, watching the demon's long fingers caress the black wood. "But I took the imbalance, not her. That makes her my friend, not my familiar."

But Newt had apparently forgotten us. Standing beside Ivy's piano, the robed figure seemed to gather the power of the room into her, turning all that had once been holy and pure to her own purpose. "Here," she murmured. "I came to get something of mine you stole… but this…" Tucking her staff into the crook of her arm, Newt bowed her head and held it. "This bothers me. I don't like it here. It hurts. Why does it hurt here?"