"Do you have a copier?"

I swung into the kitchen. He'd already established himself at the table, moved my things aside, and started spreading his papers.

"I take my coffee black."

"You can take your coffee down at the doughnut shop unless you tell me who sent you here."

"You are in need of legal services, are you not?"

I hesitated. "Oh, I get it. No one sent you. What do they call you guys? Ambulance chasers? I'm not interested. And if you try to bill me for this visit-"

"I'll do nothing of the sort. This visit is entirely free. A sampling of my services. I've taken the liberty of acquainting myself with your case, and I've devised a strategy for defending you." He moved two papers across the table, and turned them to face me. "As you'll see, this is a simple contract stating that, by agreeing to speak to me today, you are in no way committing yourself to retaining my services and will not be charged for this meeting."

I scanned the contract. For a legal document, it was surprisingly straightforward, a simple statement that relieved me of any obligation for this initial consultation. I glanced at Cortez, who was busy reading the warrant. He couldn't be more than late twenties, probably just out of law school. I'd once dated a newly graduated lawyer, and I knew how tough it could be to find work. As a young entrepreneur myself, could I really blame this guy for hard-selling his services? If, as the police suggested, I did need a lawyer, it certainly wouldn't be someone this young, but there was no harm in hearing him out.

I signed the contract, then passed it to him. He said nothing, just added his signature and handed me a copy.

"Let's start by discussing credentials," I said.

Without looking up from his papers, he said, "Let me assure you, Ms. Winterbourne, there is no one more qualified to handle your case."

"Humor me, then. Where'd you go to school? Where do you practice? How many custody cases have you handled? What percentage have you won? Any experience handling defamation of character? Because that may be a possibility here."

More paper gazing. Some paper shuffling. I was two seconds from showing him to the door, when he turned, eyes still downcast.

"Let's get this over with then, shall we?" he said.

He looked up at me. I dropped the contract. Lucas Cortez was a sorcerer.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE," I SAID.

"As you can see, I'm quite qualified to handle your case, Paige."

"So now it's 'Paige'? Did Savannah hire you?"

"No." He said this without surprise, as if the thought of a child witch hiring a sorcerer lawyer wasn't at all peculiar.

"Then who sent you?"

"As you've already determined, no one sent me. You called me an ambulance chaser and I didn't argue the point. Though, admittedly, I find the phrase reprehensible, the motivation it implies can be accurately applied to me. There are two ways for a lawyer to rise in the supernatural world. Join a Cabal or gain a reputation for successfully fighting them. I have chosen the latter route." He paused. "May I have that coffee?"

"Sure. Just go out my front door, make a left at the end of the road and look for the big neon doughnut. You can't miss it."

"As I was saying, being a young lawyer seeking to make a name for myself outside the Cabals I must, unfortunately, chase down my cases. I heard of Mr. Nast's intent to seek custody of Savannah and, seeing an opportunity, I followed it. I understand Mr. Nast has not yet abandoned his challenge?"

"He refuses to submit to DNA testing, meaning he can't prove he's Savannah's father, meaning I don't see a case and don't need a lawyer. Now, if you'd like those directions again-"

"While his refusal to surrender a DNA sample may seem advantageous, let me assure you, it doesn't eliminate the problem. Gabriel Sandford is an excellent lawyer. He'll find a way around this, likely by bribing a medical laboratory to provide phony test results."

"And willingness to bribe officials makes one an excellent lawyer?"

"Yes."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. How could I answer that?

Cortez continued, "If he does attempt such a maneuver, I will insist that the court supervise the testing." He returned to his papers. "Now, I've prepared a list of steps we should take to-"

Savannah walked into the kitchen and stopped short, assessing Cortez and his accoutrements.

"What's with the salesman?" she asked. Then she looked Cortez in the face. She didn't even blink, only tightened her mouth. "What do you want, sorcerer?"

"I prefer Lucas," he said, extending a hand. "Lucas Cortez. I'm representing Paige."

"Repres-" Savannah looked at me. "Where'd you find him?"

"The yellow pages," I said. "Under 'U.' For unsolicited, uninvited, and unwanted. He's not my lawyer."

Savannah sized Cortez up. "Good, 'cause if you want a sorcerer lawyer, you can do much better than this."

"I'm sure you can," Cortez said. "However, since I am the only one who's here, perhaps I can be of some assistance."

"You can't," I said. "Now, if you've forgotten the way to the door-"

"Hold on," Savannah said. "He's pretty young, so he's probably cheap. Maybe he'll do until we can get someone better."

"My services are extremely reasonable and will be agreed upon in advance," Cortez said. "While it may seem at this point as if Nast doesn't have a case-"

"Who's Nast?" Savannah asked.

"He means Leah," I said, shooting Cortez a "don't argue" glare. "It's O'Donnell, not Nast."

"My mistake," Cortez said without missing a beat. "As I was saying, Leah has not withdrawn her petition for custody and shows no signs of doing so. Therefore we must assume that she plans to pursue that endeavor. Thwarting her efforts must be our primary purpose. To that end, I have drawn up a list of steps."

"The twelve-step program for un-demonizing my life?"

"No, there are only seven steps, but if you see the need for more, we can discuss making the additions."

"Uh-huh."

"Who cares about lists?" Savannah said. "All we have to do is kill Leah."

"I'm glad to see you're taking such a keen interest in this, Savannah," he said. "However, we must proceed in a logical, methodical manner, which, unfortunately, precludes running out and murdering anyone. Perhaps we should begin by going over the list I prepared for you. Step one: arrange to have your homework brought to the house by a teacher or student known to both you and Paige. Step two-"

"He's kidding, right?" Savannah said.

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I'm not hiring you, Cortez."

"I really do prefer Lucas."

"And I'd prefer you found your way to my front door. Now. I don't know you and I don't trust you. You might very well be what you say you are. But how do I prove that? How do I know Sandford didn't send you here? Hey, Paige's lawyer quit, let's send her one of ours, see if she notices."

"I don't work for Gabriel Sandford or anyone else."

I shook my head. "Sorry, no sale. You're a sorcerer. No matter how hard up you were for a job, I can't believe you'd offer to work for a witch."

"I have no quarrel with witches. The limitations of your powers are hereditary. I'm sure you endeavor to use them to their full potential."

I stiffened. "Get out of my house or I will show you the limitations of my powers."

"You need help. My help. Both as legal counsel and added protection for both you and Savannah. My spell-casting is not outstanding, but it is proficient enough."

"As is mine. I don't need your protection, sorcerer. If I need help, I can get it from my Coven."

"Ah, yes. The Coven."

Something in his voice, a nuance, an inflection snapped the last restraint on my temper.