I could tell him now. Now that it was over. Very aware of Ceri listening behind us, I ran the water into the teapot and swirled it around to clean it. "Big Al didn't agree to testify against Piscary out of the goodness of its heart. I had to pay for it."

With a dry rasp of wings, Jenks moved to hover before me. Surprise, shock, and then anger cascaded over his face. "What did you promise him?" he said coldly.

"It's an it, not a him," I said. "And it's done." I couldn't look at him. "I promised to be its familiar if I was allowed to keep my soul."

"Rachel!" A burst of pixy dust lit the sink. "When? When is it coming to get you? We have to find a way out of this. There must be something!" He flew a bright path to my spell books under the center island counter and back. "Is there anything in your books? Call Nick. He'll know!"

Not liking his fluster, I wiped the water off the bottom of the teapot. My boot heels made a dull thumping on the linoleum as I crossed the kitchen. The gas ignited with a whoosh, and my face warmed from embarrassment. "It's too late," I repeated. "I'm its familiar. But the bond isn't strong enough for it to use me if I'm on this side of the ley lines, and as long as I can keep it from pulling me into the ever-after, I'll be okay." I turned from the stove, finding Ceri sitting before Ivy's computer, staring at me with rapt admiration. "I can say no. It's done."

Jenks came to a sputtering halt before me. "Done?" he said, too close to focus on. "Rachel, why? Putting Piscary away isn't worth that!"

"I didn't have a choice!" Frustrated, I crossed my arms before me and leaned against the counter. "Piscary was trying to kill me, and if I survived, I wanted him in jail, not free to come after me again. It's done. The demon can't use me. I tricked it."

"Him," Ceri said softly, and Jenks spun. I had forgotten she was there, she was so quiet. "Al is male. Female demons won't let themselves be pulled across the lines. That's how you can tell. Mostly."

I blinked, taken aback. "Al is male? Why did he keep letting me call him an it?"

She lifted her shoulder in a very modern show of confusion.

My breath came out in a puff and I turned back to Jenks. I started as I found him hovering right before my nose, his wings red. "You're an ass," he said, his tiny, smooth features creased in anger. "You should have told us. What if it had gotten you? What about Ivy and me? Huh? We would have kept looking for you, not knowing what had happened. At least if you had told us, we might have been able to find a way to get you back. Ever think of that, Ms. Morgan? We're a team, and you just stepped all over that!"

My next outburst died. "But there wasn't anything you could have done," I said lamely.

"How do you know?" Jenks snapped.

I sighed, embarrassed that a four-inch man was lecturing me—and had every right to. "Yeah, you're right," I said, slumping. Slowly my arms uncrossed. "I'm just…I'm just not used to having anyone I can depend on, Jenks. I'm sorry."

Jenks dropped three feet he was so surprised. "You…you agree with me?"

Ceri's head made a smooth turn to the open archway. Her empty expression went even more so. I followed her gaze to the dark hall, not surprised to find it holding Ivy's lithe silhouette, her hip cocked, hand on her thin waist, looking sleek in her body-tight leather.

Suddenly wary, I pulled myself from the counter and straightened. I hated it when she just appeared like that. I hadn't even felt the air pressure change when she opened the front door. "Hi, Ivy," I said, my voice still carrying its chagrin from Jenks.

Ivy's blank gaze matched Ceri's perfectly as she ran her brown eyes over the small woman sitting in her chair. She pushed herself into motion, moving with a living vampire's grace, her boots almost silent. Tucking her long, enviably straight black hair behind an ear, she went to the fridge and pulled out the orange juice. Dressed in her casual leather pants and black tuck-in shirt, she looked like a biker chick gone sophisticate. Her cheeks were red from the cold, and she looked chilled even though she still wore her short leather jacket.

Jenks hovered beside me, our argument forgotten in the more pressing problem of Ivy finding someone unexpected in her kitchen. My last guest she had pinned to the wall and threatened to bleed; Ivy didn't like surprises. That she was drinking orange juice was a good sign. It meant she had succumbed to that damned blood lust of hers, and Jenks and I would only have to deal with a guilt-strewn vampire instead of an irritable, guilt-strewn, and hungry vampire. She was a lot easier to live with now that she was practicing again.

"Ah, Ivy, this is Ceridwen," I offered. "She's staying with us until she finds her feet."

Ivy turned, leaning back against the counter to look predatory and sexy as she took the cap off the jug and drank right from the carton. Like I'd say anything? Ivy's gaze ran over Ceri, then flicked to Jenks's obvious agitation, and then to me. "So," she said, her melodious voice reminding me of torn gray silk on snow. "You wiggled out of your agreement with that demon. Good job. Nicely done."

My jaw dropped. "How did you know…?" I stammered as Jenks yelped in surprise.

A faint smile, unusual but honest, pulled the corners of her mouth up. A flash of fang showed, her canines the same size as mine but sharp, like a cat's. She'd have to wait until she was dead to get the extended versions. "You talk in your sleep," she said lightly.

"You knew?" I said, floored. "You never said anything!"

"Nicely done?" Jenks's wings clattered like June bugs. "You think being a demon's familiar is a good thing? What train hit you on the way home?"

Ivy went to get a glass from the cupboard. "If Piscary had been released, Rachel would be dead by sunup," she said as she poured out juice. "So she's a demon's familiar? So what? She said the demon can't use her unless he pulls her into the ever-after. And she's alive. You can't do anything if you're dead." She took a sip of her drink. "Unless you're a vampire."

Jenks made an ugly sound and flew to the corner of the room to sulk. Jih took the opportunity to flit in to hide in the ladle hanging over the center counter, the tips of her wings showing a brilliant red above the copper rim.

Ivy's brown eyes met mine over her glass. Her perfect oval face was almost featureless as she hid her emotions behind the cool facade of indifference she maintained when there was someone in the room beside us two, Jenks included. "I'm glad it worked," she said as she set the glass on the counter. "Are you all right?"

I nodded, seeing her relief in the slight trembling of her long pianist fingers. She would never tell me how worried she had been, and I wondered how long she had stood in the hallway listening and collecting herself. Her eyes blinked several times, and her jaw clenched in an effort to stifle her emotion. "I didn't know it was tonight," she said softly. "I wouldn't have left."

"Thanks," I said, thinking Jenks was right. I had been an ass for not telling them. I just wasn't used to having anyone but my mother care.

Ceri was watching Ivy with a puzzled, rapt attention. "Partner?" she hazarded, and Ivy flicked her attention to the small woman.

"Yeah," Ivy said. "Partner. What's it to you?"

"Ceri, this is Ivy," I said as the small woman got to her feet.

Ivy frowned as she realized the precise order she kept her desk in had been altered.

"She was Big Al's familiar," I warned. "She needs a few days to find her feet is all."

Jenks made an eye-hurting noise with his wings, and Ivy gave me a telling look, her expression shifting to an annoyed wariness when Ceri came to stand before her. The small woman was peering at Ivy in confusion. "You're a vampire," she said, reaching to touch Ivy's crucifix.