The frost-rimmed rocks beside me slid, and I jerked out of the way before Lee's foot could connect with my ribs again. Red and small, the sun crept behind the shadow of a broken building. It looked like Carew Tower. Nearby were the remnants of what might be a fountain. We were at Fountain Square? "Lee," I whispered, frightened. "We have to get out of here."

There was a ping, and Lee brought his arms out from behind his back. His suit was dirty and it looked out of place amid the destruction. The soft and certain clink of a falling rock pulled my head around, and he threw the handcuffs at it. We weren't alone. Damn.

"Lee!" I hissed. Oh God. If Al found me, I was dead. "Can you get us home?"

He smiled, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Slipping on the loose rubble, he scanned the ragged horizon. "You don't look well," he said, and I winced at how loud his voice was against the cold rocks. "First time in the ever-after?"

"Yes and no." Shivering, I got up and felt my scraped knees. I'd put a run in my nylons, and blood was seeping out. I was standing in a line. I could feel it humming, could almost see it—it was that strong. Clasping my arms about myself, I jerked at the sound of sliding rock. I wasn't thinking of tagging him; I was thinking of escape. But I couldn't travel the lines.

Another rock fell, bigger. I spun, eyes searching the frost-smeared rubble.

Hands on his hips, Lee squinted up at the red-bottomed clouds as if the cold didn't bother him. "Lesser demons," he said. "Fairly harmless unless you're hurt or ignorant."

I inched away from the fallen rock. "This isn't a good idea. Let's go back and we can finish this like normal people."

He brought his gaze to me. "What will you give me?" he mocked, thin eyebrows high.

I felt like the time my date drove me to a farmhouse and stranded me, telling me if I didn't put out, I could find my own way back. I broke his finger to get the key for his truck and cried all the way home. My mom called his mom and that was the end of it except for the endless ribbing I took at school. Maybe I'd have gotten some respect if my dad had beat up his dad, but that hadn't been an option at that point. I didn't think breaking Lee's finger would get me home this time. "I can't," I whispered. "You killed all those people."

Shaking his head, he sniffed. "You hurt my reputation. I'm going to be rid of you."

My mouth went dry when I realized where this was headed. He was going to give me to Algaliarept, the bastard. "Don't do this, Lee," I said, frightened. My head jerked up at the rapid scrabbling of claws. "We both owe him," I said. "He can take you just as easily."

Lee kicked chunks of rock from his feet to make a clear spot. "No-o-o-o, the word on both sides of the lines is he wants you." Eyes black in the red light, Lee smiled. "But just in case, I'm going to soften you up a little first."

"Lee," I whispered, hunched from the cold as he started to mutter Latin. The glow of the line energy in his hand lit his face with ugly shadows. I tensed in sudden panic. There was nowhere to run in the three seconds I had.

My breath caught at the sudden clatter of things hiding. I jerked my attention up to see a sphere of energy headed right for me. If I made a circle, Al would feel it. If I deflected it, Al would know. So like an idiot, I froze, and it smacked right into me.

Fire rippled over my skin. My head flung back, mouth open as I fought for air. It was simply line energy, overflowing my chi. Tulpa, I thought as I fell, giving it somewhere to go.

Immediately the fire died, racing to the sphere already up and waiting in my head. Something in me seemed to shift, and I knew I had made a mistake. The things around us squealed and vanished.

I heard a gentle pop. Heart pounding, I straightened. My breath caught, and I slowly let it out in a steaming ribbon of white moisture. Al's jaunty silhouette was black against the setting sun as he stood atop a broken building, his back to us.

"Shit," Lee swore. "What the hell is he doing here already?"

I spun to Lee and the soft hiss of metallic chalk against pavement. It was a ley line witch's version of duct tape, and it would make a very secure circle. My heart pounded as a shimmer of black and purple rose between us. Blowing hard, Lee tucked his chalk away and smiled confidently at me.

Shivering violently, I looked over the sunset-red slumps of broken rock. I didn't have anything to make a circle with. I was a dead witch. I was on Al's side of the lines; my previous contract didn't mean anything.

Al turned at the sensation of Lee's circle going up. But it was to my eyes that his fixed on. "Rachel Mariana Morgan," he drawled, clearly pleased as a cascade of ley line energy washed over him and his attire shifted to what I thought was an English riding outfit, complete with whip and shiny, calf-high boots. "What did you do to your hair?"

"Hi, Al," I said, backing up. I had to get out of there. There's no place like home, I thought, feeling the hum of the line I was standing in and wondering whether it would help if I clicked my heels. Lee had flown over the rainbow, why, oh why, the hell couldn't I?

Satisfaction all but glowed from Lee. My gaze went from him to Al as the demon carefully picked his way down the slide of rubble to the floor of the large square.

The square, I thought, hope catching in my throat. Spinning, I tried to place myself, tripping as I pushed rocks with my foot, searching. If this was a mirror of Cincinnati, then this was Fountain Square. And if this was Fountain Square, then there was a humdinger of a circle all laid out between the street and the parking garage. But it was really, really big.

My breath came fast when my foot revealed a battered arc of purple inlay. It was the same. It was the same! Frantic, I realized Al was almost to the floor of the square. I quickly tapped the nearby line. It flowed into me with the mirror-bright taste of clouds and tinfoil. Tulpa, I thought, desperate to gather enough power to close a circle this size before Al realized what I was doing.

I stiffened as a torrent of line energy flooded me. Groaning, I dropped to one knee. His aristocratic face going slack, Al drew himself upright. He saw my intent in my eyes. "No!" he cried, lunging forward as I reached to touch the circle and say my word of invocation.

A gasp slipped from me as, with the feeling of being poured out of myself, a shimmering wave of translucent gold swam up from the ground, bisecting rocks and slumped rubble, arching to a humming close high over my head. Staggering, I fell back, my mouth gaping open as I stared up at it. Holy crap, I had closed Fountain Square circle. I had closed a circle thirty feet across that had been designed for seven witches to set comfortably, not one. Though apparently one could do it if properly motivated.

Al skidded to a halt, arms swinging to avoid running into the circle. A faint bong of reverberation echoed in the dusky air, crawling over my skin like dust. My eyes widened and I stared. Bells. Big, deep, resonant bells. There really were bells, and my circle had rung them.

Adrenaline shook my knees, and they rang again. Al stood to look peeved a mere three feet from the edge, head cocked and thin lips pressed tight as he listened to the third peal die away. The power of the line running through me ebbed, settling into a soft hum. The silence of the night was frighteningly profound.

"Nice circle," Al said, sounding impressed, bothered, and interested. "You're going to be grand fun at tractor pulls."

"Thanks." I twitched when he took off his glove and tapped my circle to make rippled dimples waver across it. "Don't touch it!" I blurted, and he chuckled—tapping, tapping, ever moving, looking for a weak spot. It was a huge circle; he might find one. What had I done?