"I'll go," he said. "They aren't allowed to leave the garden." My neck went cold in the breeze on his wings, and he hovered, his angular features pinched. "You'll be okay?"

I watched Minias touch the herbs drying on the overhanging rack, wanting to tell him to get his fingers off them. "I'll be fine," I said. "He's in a good circle."

Minias's eyes followed Jenks zipping out with an unusual amount of interest. Looking mildly annoyed, he scuffed his bare feet against the linoleum, and a pair of embroidered slippers appeared on them. Slowly his brow smoothed under his brown curls. I fixed on the alienness of his eyes, trying to see the sideways pupil beside the dark iris. His back against the counter, he crossed his ankles and waited. Beside him was my spell to stop sneezing, and I didn't like the patronizing look he had favored me with after giving the pentagram a cursory glance.

"You're vastly deficient in line etiquette," he said dryly, "but I'll admit that this is better than the moldy basements I'm always hearing about."

"I didn't know you were making me sneeze," I huffed. "You can't know what you haven't been told."

Minias brought his attention from the dark garden. One eyebrow rose. "Yes you can." Turning, he started messing in the remnants of my ley line spell. "So what's it going to be?" he said, holding the crucible in one hand and running a finger through the soot with the other. "Eternal life? Untold wealth? Unlimited knowledge?"

I didn't like the way he was rubbing his thumb and finger together, smelling the ash as if it had meaning. "Stop that," I said.

Eyeing me from under his brown curls, he set the crucible down.

The sight of his elegantly robed figure doing something as mundane as tearing a paper towel and cleaning his finger looked odd. I frowned, my tension rising when he crouched to see my spell books.

"Leave those alone," I muttered, wishing Ceri would hurry.

Swearing in Latin, Minias took his fingers off my books. When he rose, he had my nested set of copper spell pots, my splat gun sitting nice as could be in the smallest. I had a moment of worry that the charms in it, though expired, might have enough of my aura to break the circle. Minias, though, gave it only a quick glance, turning his attention to the largest pot. It was the one I had dented against Ivy's head, and I didn't like it when he held it up in disdainful disgust. "You don't actually use this?" he asked.

"Would you knock it off?" I protested. God, what was it with him? He was worse than Jenks when it came to inquisitiveness. His eyebrows high in amusement, Minias set the spell pot down and picked up the open spell book on the counter. My jaw clenched, but I said nothing this time. His lips curled up in amusement, Minias held the book splayed open in a single hand and, after adjusting his hat, levered himself up to sit on the counter beside my ley line charm. His curly head was almost among the pots and herbs.

Exhaling slowly, I took a step forward. "Look," I said, and he drew his alien-seem gaze to mine. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were trying to reach me. Can we just get this mark thing settled so we can all move on with our lives? "

Eyes returning to the book, Minias took off his hat and murmured, "That's what I'm here for. You've had time to think up a wish. It's been almost five hundred years since I dealt with temporals, and I don't want to start it up again now, so let's hear it."

My head dropped, and, suddenly nervous, I hiked myself up onto the counter beside the sink. Temporals, huh? Arms wrapped around knees drawn up to my chin, I thought of Jenks's shorter life span and how wishes always came back to bite you. Sure, the one I had made to get out of the I. S. had worked, but I was still trying to get out from under the demon marks that had come from it. If I wished for a longer life for Jenks, he might be in a state where he couldn't do anything. Or maybe he'd be the first vampire pixy, or something equally unpleasant. "I don't want a wish," I whispered, feeling like a coward.

"No?" Clearly surprised, the demon shifted his legs, letting them drape down the counter to hide my spell books. "You want a curse?" His clean-shaven features turned sour. "I've never taught a witch, but I could probably wedge something past your thick skull."

Interesting. "I don't want to know how to do a curse," I said. "Not from you anyway."

Minias brought his wandering gaze from my yew cuttings drying in the corner. Cocking his head, he looked at me as if I'd only now caught his attention. "No?" he repeated. With one hand he made a gesture of question. "What do you want, then?"

Nervous, I slid from the counter. I didn't want to do anything without Ceri, but saying no seemed harmless enough. "I don't want anything."

Minias's smile went patronizing. "And I'll believe that when the two worlds collide."

"Well, yeah, I want stuff," I said bitterly, not fond of being offered everything when getting it would cause more trouble than not having it to begin with. "I want my partner to live longer than a stinking twenty years. I want my friend to find some peace in her life and her choices. I want my stinking church…" I slammed my hand on the counter to make my palm sting. "… resanctified so I don't have to worry about the undead while I sleep! And I want to get rid of that thing in my freezer before it (a) starts an Inderland power struggle or (b) brings Newt knocking on my door for a cup of sugar again. But you…" I pointed. "… would give me what I want in such a way that it would ruin any joy I found in it, so forget it!" Angry and wondering if I was making a mistake, I crossed my arms and sulked.

Minias closed the book with a snap. I jumped, and, his red eyes fixed on me with an unsettling intensity, he slipped from the counter and came two steps forward. "You know what she was here for? You have it?"

My pulse quickened, and I pulled myself straight in worry. "I think so."

Minias stood stock-still, only the hem of his robe moving. "Give it to me. I'll make sure Newt never bothers you again."

My mouth was dry. Seeing him want it so badly, I knew that giving it to him would be a very big mistake. He didn't even know what it was. "Right."

I said. "Like how you kept track of her the other night? You can't control her, and you know it."

He took a breath to protest, and I arched my eyebrows. Head bowing in thought, Minias dropped back a step.

"You don't have anything I want, demon," I said. "You're going to have to owe me."

"You think I'm going to wear your mark?" he said, and my head came up at the incredulousness in his tone. "I am not going to wear your mark." His cheeks were pale, but there was a deep anger in his eyes.

"Why not?" I said, liking the idea if only because he didn't. I recalled Trent saying I made decisions on the basis of how much I could irritate people, and I frowned. Minias, though, didn't see it, since he had made a huff of noise and turned his back to me.

His shoulders were very broad, and with the robe and hat he looked regal and elegant next to me in my sandals, jeans, and chemise. I was still connected to the line, and I could feel my hair starting to snarl. I ran a hand over my curls, thinking I was really stupid to be worrying about my hair when I had a demon in my kitchen.

Minias's head came up, and I heard the front door shut.

Ceri. Finally.

Ceri's light steps were soft in the hallway, her pleasant voice tight with worry when she called for me. She halted in the threshold, her wide eyes darting from Minias in my circle to me. She was still wearing the same summery, lightweight linen dress she'd had on earlier, and her toes were wet, telling me she had walked through the dew-wet grass barefoot. Jenks was sitting on her shoulder to look as if he belonged there, and I wasn't surprised to see Rex, Jenks's cat, in her arms. The orange kitten was purring, her eyes closed and her paws damp as well.