He began to nod then paused, brow furrowing in confusion. His gaze snapped up to the moon.

“Gods above and below,” he whispered. “I am a blind fool. I knew you had summoned Skalz when the moon was but half full, yet I had assumed—” He bit off whatever he was going to say, then took a steadying breath as he shifted his gaze back to me. “But you’ve been summoning the demonic lord—no simple task, even with him amenable.” Worry darkened his eyes. “You’ve found a way to store potency. No wonder you’re a target.”

Even though I’d already considered this, I still felt cold at hearing it from Zack. “It’s not perfect,” I said, feeling strangely defensive. “I mean, I couldn’t summon an unwilling demonic lord or anything.”

For an instant Zack looked as if he wanted to debate the matter with me, but then he seemed to take note of how close I was to totally losing it. “Let’s get out of here,” he said with a gentle smile. “Go home and get some sleep. There’s nothing to be done now anyway.” He draped an arm companionably over my shoulder and guided me to the driver’s side door of my car.

I scraped together a smile for him. “Right. Um, thanks. For ... everything.”

Worry darkened his eyes, but he returned my smile and nodded. Then he turned and walked to his own car without another word.

I stopped at the first Kwik-E Mart I saw. I was unsettled, freaked out, and still trying to process the mountain of shit that had just been dropped on me. I needed serious fortification for that.

Two carloads of teenagers pulled into the parking lot as I entered the store. I grabbed potato chips and chocolate, then headed back to the freezer to get the last ingredient for my comfort party. A kid who couldn’t have been more than fifteen yanked open the door of the beer cooler and pulled out a six-pack, then froze as I gave him a black glare. His gaze flicked to my badge and gun, then he replaced the six-pack with a sheepish grin.

“Whoops! Thought that was the Diet Coke,” he said, grin turning cheeky.

“Next door down,” I said, doing my best to remain gruff.

His eyes dropped to the stash of junk food in my arms. “Whoa, someone’s having a rough night.”

I scowled as I retrieved a pint of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer. “You have no idea,” I grumbled as I headed to the counter. Oh, well. At least I wasn’t carrying donuts.

I lingered in the store until the kids left, even though I knew that if they really wanted to get booze they would. I’d managed to get my hands on plenty of contraband in my youth without too much trouble. But at least this one night would perhaps be alcohol-free for them.

I sighed and pulled out of the parking lot. The morose turnings of my thoughts were about to enter a death spiral at this rate. Maybe Jill’s still awake? I glanced at the dashboard clock. Midnight. I sighed. Probably not. But I was right by her house. I could always check and see if any lights were on. And if there were, I had plenty of offerings in the bag beside me.

Cheered slightly by the thought of being able to unload on someone, I slowed as I approached her house. A whisper of relief stole through me as I saw that a light was on upstairs, in her bedroom. Cool. I thought with a smile. I can bribe my way in with ice cream and . . .

My smile faded as I suddenly took note of the car parked in the driveway next to her crime scene van. A dark Crown Victoria with public plates and an antenna farm on the back ...

I accelerated past her house, thick knot suddenly making it hard to swallow or breathe. Stop it. Be happy for her, for them, I railed at myself without success. Ryan and Jill are your best friends.

I tore open the chocolate and took a big bite, then forced myself to see reason. I was being unbearably stupid. Lots of cops had unmarked cars. It could be anyone. Hell, even Cory Crawford drove an unmarked Crown Vic.

I almost snorted chocolate down the wrong tube at that thought, and in fact started coughing so hard I had to pull over. I managed to get the coughing under control, but by then I was laughing so hard at the image of Crawford and Jill together that tears ran down my face.

And then all of the events of the day flooded back in and I found myself crying for real. I clung to the steering wheel as if it was a lifeline, resting my forehead on it as I indulged in a few badly needed minutes of emotional release.

I finally lifted my head and took a deep breath, then continued on home.

But not before ripping the chips open.

By the time I made it to my house I’d managed to consume the chocolate and the chips, and my funk had been replaced by a queasiness in my belly. I shoved the ice cream into my freezer, then headed down to my basement.

I need to talk to Rhyzkahl, I told myself. It had nothing to do with a desperate need for comfort right now. Really.

Crouching by the partially full storage diagram, I took several settling breaths, then attempted to draw potency into it. But attempt was the correct word, because I couldn’t draw anything. I was too unsettled and far too exhausted, and the power seemed to slip out of my control like an oiled eel.

I continued to try to pull power for at least fifteen minutes, then finally gave up and collapsed in a sweating and shaking heap in the chair by the fireplace. And if I’d been attempting to open a portal, I’d be dead now, I thought as fear and nausea twined in my gut. Even if I’d had power at my disposal, it would have been stupid to try to perform a summoning.

I crawled back upstairs, literally so for the last few steps, then stumbled to the bathroom and threw up the chocolate and chips. I knelt on the bathroom floor, head pounding as I fought the urge to cry. I’d done enough of that today.

I’m safe here, I told myself as I stumbled to my bedroom. My house is warded and protected against living creatures and arcane power.

But even as exhausted as I was, it was still a long time before I could get to sleep.

I woke up feeling stupidly hungover—hardly fair since I’d thrown up all of the bad stuff I’d eaten. I felt marginally better after coffee, which restored a small measure of my faith in the universe. If coffee had failed me, I’d have been sorely tempted to go right back to bed and never get up again. But two cups of coffee and a toasted bagel later, I felt almost ready to face the world. Bury myself in work was part of my plan for the day. The other part was to try and forget about summonings and relationships and anything else that was stress inducing.

I had a feeling I was going to have more success with the first portion.

My first stop of the day was the crime lab to drop off the laptop we’d seized at Adam Taylor’s house and to beg, plead, and whine to have it bumped to the top of the queue for forensic examination. As much as I itched to fire it up and see what files were on it, I knew that was a perfect way to destroy evidence. I wasn’t a whiz at computers by any stretch, but I’d attended plenty of training sessions where it had been drilled into our thick little heads that doing anything to a computer—even turning it on—altered the data on it and could jeopardize the integrity of evidence.

Jill was in the front office of the crime lab when I entered. She was hunched over a table against the wall, peering through a fingerprint viewer at a latent print card. She glanced up at the sound of the door.

“Heya, chick!” she said with a broad smile. “You slumming?”

Curiosity about her visitor last night surged, but I smacked it down. I wasn’t going to risk my friendship with Jill over a guy. Even if there was the slightest chance that it could be Ryan. Which it wasn’t. I was sure of that. I was.