Frowning, I laid my hand on her forearm. “Tessa? Not since when?”

She blinked, brought her gaze back to me. “Not since I found out I was pregnant. I remember clear as a bell doing a pygah then, but,” she shrugged, “I haven’t thought of it since.”

Worry flared hot and bright. How do you “forget” a major arcane tool? I did a frickin’ pygah of my own to help maintain a façade of calm.

“Why did you pygah when you found out you were pregnant?” I asked.

That earned me a raised eyebrow and a withering look. “Wouldn’t you?”

Okay, she had a point there. “You were still with Katashi when you got pregnant?” I asked, oh-so-casually.

“With Katashi?” Confusion clouded her eyes. “It was a fling with an American living in Japan. He left before I knew I was pregnant so, when the baby was stillborn, I didn’t call him.”

Goosebumps shivered over my entire body. Those were almost the exact words she’d used the last time I’d asked, and again I had the disturbing feeling she wasn’t so much remembering it as reciting a story. “Programmed” was the word that came to mind, and right behind that, “manipulated.” Even though I didn’t have a badge anymore, my cop-instinct still worked, and right now it tingled like crazy. I knew in my gut that baby didn’t die. What I didn’t know was who had made Tessa believe so and why?

“What was the father’s name?” I kept a pleasant and casual smile on my face.

“I had a fling. He was American.” Tessa waved a hand dismissively.

Yeah, well, she could dismissively gesture all she wanted, but I wanted some answers. “Back when you had the, ah, fling with the American,” I pressed, “you were still in training with Katashi?”

A slight frown crossed her face. “I remember we summoned the reyza, Pyrenth,” she murmured as though trying to dust off twenty-year-old memories. “But that was before I was pregnant.”

“I met Pyrenth in the demon realm,” I said. “At Rhyzkahl’s. He was my escort at times.” I leaned forward. “What else do you remember about your training back then?”

“I remember working on this, over and over.” She traced her fingers through the air as though drawing a sigil, and her frown deepened. “What is that called?”

Sick worry tightened my chest. Tessa had a great memory for arcane structures. “It’s called a durik, for ritual stabilization,” I told her, lifting my hand to trace the sigil. “It’s usually used in combination with a . . .” I trailed off. Not a mere sigil. The durik and its companion were floaters.

Icy coils of dread wrapped around me. The art of tracing floaters could only be learned in the demon realm, and Tessa had never mentioned or even implied she’d ever been there.

“Durik. Silly of me to forget that.” Tessa stood and carried her mug back to the stove, topped it off with hot water even though she’d only taken a few sips from it.

My heart hammered at the implications. “It must have slipped your mind, like the pygah. No big deal.” Except that it was. It was a huge fucking deal. “Tessa? Have you ever been to the demon realm?”

Her mug crashed to the floor, sending out a splatter of hot liquid and shards of stoneware.

“Shit!” I jumped up and came around the counter. “Are you okay?” I grabbed at a dishtowel and crouched to mop up the spreading pool of tea.

“A little clumsy, that’s all,” she murmured. She looked down at me, brow faintly furrowed, yet didn’t stoop to help me clean up the mess, which was very unlike her.

I stood, dishtowel in my hand, raked my gaze over her to make sure she hadn’t been cut or scalded. No visible blood or burns that I could see, but she looked pale as death. She pressed her hand over her solar plexus. “I feel strange,” she said, voice thready.

I dropped the dishtowel back on the floor amidst the shards, took her gently by the arm and led her around the mess and into a chair at the kitchen table. My already high worry wound tighter as she went without protest. “Do you need some water?” I asked.

Tessa blinked, seemed to come back to herself a bit. “Some tea would be nice.” Her eyes went to the mess on the kitchen floor, and she winced. “I’d better clean that up.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I insisted. That was more normal for her at least. “Do you want me to call Carl? I’m sure he’ll come right back.”

“Oh no, sweetling. No need to worry him.” She gave me a smile that only reassured me a little.

I quickly readied another mug of tea and set it in front of her, then finished cleaning up the spill and broken mug while I mentally replayed the incident. Once I finished the cleanup I sat at the table with her again. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I’ll be right as rain as soon as I finish this cup,” she said brightly. “Now what were you telling me about your agreement with Mzatal?”

What the fucking hell? Had she forgotten the last few minutes of our conversation? My anxiety clawed higher, and I had to take a long sip of my tea before I could keep my voice and expression composed enough to speak casually. “I said that we have an agreement based on mutual respect. We ditched the contractual one.” I plastered on a smile. “I learn a lot from him . . . in the demon realm.” I watched for any flicker of reaction and saw nothing but honest interest in her face. I hesitated, then jumped in with both feet. “Have you ever been to the demon realm?”

Again she pressed her hand to her solar plexus. Her eyes went wild for a second, then her face relaxed and brightened. “That water hot yet?”

My hands tightened around the mug. “Your tea is in front of you.”

“Oh!” She looked down. “So it is.” She smiled, lifted it, and took a sip.

This wasn’t some sort of dementia, not with this odd programmed feel. It was something far more sinister, more deliberate. Mzatal would be able to get to the bottom of it but I had another day before I summoned him again.

I took a breath and calmed myself. This had been with her for twenty years. Another day wasn’t going to harm her. “I’m summoning Mzatal again tomorrow,” I told her. “I’d love for you to meet him.”

Tessa’s mouth tightened. “This one must be quite different from Rhyzkahl.”

You can say that again! “Yes, he’s very different,” I said. “I care about him a great deal.”

Worry shadowed her eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” she said.

I reached to give her hand a light squeeze. “I know. It’s why I’m training with him. I need to get really damn good at what I do so that I won’t be as vulnerable.”

She opened her mouth as though to speak then jerked her head up to look at the clock. “Crap! I need to go. I promised Melanie I’d close at the store tonight.” My aunt owned a natural food store in downtown Beaulac, and after her hospital stay last year hired her ditzy nurse, Melanie, as a full time worker.

“That’s cool. I’ll call tomorrow.” I stood as she did. “I want to bring Mzatal over to meet you, since I’m shacking up with him and all that.” I faked a grin as I added silently, And since it’s obvious someone has messed with your head.

“That’ll be good,” she said, belying the flicker of disapproval in her eyes. “I should meet him.”

I kept the fixed smile on my face. “You mind if I use your bathroom before I go?”

“As if you need to ask?” Tessa rolled her eyes. “Go for it. I need to scoot. Lock up when you leave, please.”

With that she hurried out and to her car. I surreptitiously peered out the front window, watched her drive off as anger and sorrow wound together in the pit of my stomach.

Someone had manipulated my aunt.

I intended to find out who and why.

I quickly slipped into my aunt’s bathroom, retrieved a handful of hair from her brush and dug a used tissue out of the waste basket, then left the house—making very sure to lock up behind me since I would never hear the end of it otherwise.