Chapter 15

Chapter

15

"Ah, it's a costume shop."

I gave Elyse a sidelong look. The young woman was clearly unimpressed as she stood at the curb and stared at the store across the street. Everyone else saw her as a perky blond co-ed, but I got the ugly reality of gray sweats and sleep-flattened hair. My regret that I'd let her come had gone from thinking it was a mistake to knowing it was. Other Earthlings wasn't a costume outlet. It was a high-end image consultant firm…and in her glamoured image of shorts and tank, Elyse looked as if she was skipping out on her high school gym class. I wasn't much better in my sequined shirt and bedazzled jeans and jacket.

"It will have exactly what we need," I said as I waited for the light to change and we could cross. The old storefront was a quiet place in July, but come early October, people would be lined up down the sidewalk to get in, like a must-see movie or concert.

Elyse twisted her lips in doubt. "The University Spell Shoppe is a quick cab ride away. It will be hard to outfit with standard spells, but I've worked with less."

I tugged my bag higher up my shoulder. That it had lost two years of wear and tear was an unexpected pleasure. "And Patricia's is two blocks up," I said. The light changed, and I stepped off the curb. Glamoured or not, Elyse was still a person of interest, and I was nervous.

She jumped to keep up. "Why don't we use your glamour stone?"

"You mean the one I left in the library so Newt wouldn't take it?"

Elyse gestured as if in disbelief. "We need hard-core spells, not straight hair and four inches of height."

"Agreed." Boots thumping, I strode down the sidewalk and tried to hide my worry. Sylvia had recognized me the last time I'd come in, but that hadn't happened yet and it had been because of my hair, currently spelled blond. I should be okay. "It's not a disguise shop. It's an outfitter. Trust me on this," I said as we reached the door and I pulled it open. It was the off-season, and there wasn't a doorman/security. "They will have what we need," I added as the delicious scent of expensive coffee hit me.

"I still say a few gray spells would serve us better," she muttered, her expression easing. "Oh, that smells good."

But seeing as what we'd had this morning had come out of a vending machine, everything smelled good. "You can't out-spell a demon," I said softly, hesitating just inside to scan the quiet front. "We aren't arming for war." Well, we were, but it was a war of wits, not skills. Besides, I might run into myself at my usual haunts, and I knew I wouldn't be here.

Elyse wrapped her arms around her middle, her jaw dropping when she saw herself in the mirror. "Wow." Hand falling from her hair, she took in the high-end shop. "I don't know what you expect to find here. How elaborate a disguise do you think we need?"

"I told you, we aren't here for a disguise. We are here to be outfitted," I muttered.

"Well, if it's clothes you want, the mall is…"

I quit listening, smiling in appreciation as I soaked in the odd mix of upscale clothier and tattoo parlor. There were large fitting rooms in the back with couches and chairs where you could have a catered lunch as you built a costume, but up front it was all business with brightly lit mirrors and multiple computer consoles and tablets. They even had an image scanner where you could upload a three-dimensional image of yourself and then try on clothes and prosthetics to see what you'd look like without ever leaving your chair. There were a few racks of clothes here, mostly to get an idea of how much you were willing to spend, as in taffeta, or cotton, but most of it was in storage.

Some of the charms sold here were tightly regulated, but much of what was available could be found anywhere. The magic was in applying them together. It was a skill that used to be hidden in the makeup trailers in the back lots of Hollywood, and in truth, that was where the money still was…unless you went all out, becoming world-renowned as Sylvia had done.

"I didn't know Cincinnati had anything like this," Elyse said. "It's like Sammy's in LA."

"I think that's Sylvia's sister, actually." I turned at the sound of a small scuff to see Sylvia, clearly having been eating her lunch as she dabbed at her mouth and tossed a napkin away. Come October, the owner/operator would be busy with her more affluent customers, but in July, she was more hands-on. Which bodes well as long as she doesn't recognize me.

"Good afternoon," the smooth-faced woman in her sixties said pleasantly. "I'm Sylvia. Can I help you ladies?"

I smiled to hide my nervousness as Sylvia studied us, taking in our body shapes, our hair, noses, shoe sizes—and if we were spelled to look this way. If we were tracked here, the I.S. would get a very good description.

Elyse shuffled her feet. "I have no idea why we are here."

Impatient little brat, I thought. "Ah, hi. I'm interested in working up two ley line professors. Formal spelling robes, mostly. You stock them, yes?"

"Sure." Sylvia dusted her hands and reached for a tablet. "Have a seat."

My breath slipped from me in relief. She didn't recognize me. "Thank you." I followed the classy woman to a seating arrangement.

"Getting a jump on Halloween?" Sylvia folded herself onto the white couch and focused on the tablet. The large screen on the wall brightened with her logo, quickly shifting to mirror what was on her smaller screen as she searched their clothing options. "Good idea. We are already booked for two weeks before. Are you thinking silk or synthetic?"

"Silk," I said, and Elyse perked up, turning from where she'd been idly fingering a rack of fabric samples.

"We have a nice selection right now." Sylvia glanced up from the tablet. "Could you both step onto the imager? We don't keep our entire stock on hand, but I can have just about anything sourced between now and October."

"Ahh…" Elyse gave me a sharp look and I shook my head, not wanting to leave a digital footprint, either. "We'd rather walk out with it today if we can," I added, and Sylvia nodded.

"That will limit you. Let me see what we have."

Again the big screen shifted as Sylvia swiped and tapped, her slim fingers moving fast to fill the upper boxes with several choices.

"Do you have anything to match her aura?" I said as I inched closer, aching to try the tablet out myself. "Purple and red."

"Mmmm." Sylvia swiped everything in the trash and started again. "I've got three in stock that will hang right."

My gaze lifted to the large screen, and I stifled a wince at the price. "Um, the one that starts red and fades to purple at the hem," I said, and Sylvia moved the robe into the larger display box. There was minimal embroidery compared to the other two, but Elyse was going to play the part of the familiar.

"Kind of plain, isn't it?" Elyse said, finally interested.

"We'll up the pizzazz on the sash," I promised. "Mine should be gold deepening to black at the hem. If it has a little red in there, even better."

Sylvia sorted and clicked. "How about this?"

"Perfect," I said, though it had less decoration than Elyse's.

"Seriously?" Elyse hung over the back of the couch, eyes fixed to the large screen. "We're going to look like university dropouts."

"I'm not done yet," I said sourly, then turned to Sylvia. "Sashes. Any with bells on them?"

Brow furrowed, Sylvia cleared the search box of robes. "Better selection there. You want to match the robes or go with a simple black?"

I thought of how Minias had once put me in a robe identical to his, and then Al's flamboyant enthusiasm in dressing me as an individual. "Black," I said, and Elyse made a heavy sigh. "But something flashy for both of us. Embroidered, lots of little bells."

"Oh, this is going to be nice," Sylvia said as she brought them up. "We have stars, flowers, or esoteric symbols."

"Symbols," Elyse said immediately.

"I'm a flower kind of girl," I said, and Sylvia added them to the generic models on the screen. "Any chance of the hats having the robe colors and the scarf embroidery?"

Sylvia sighed as she scrolled. "If you can wait three weeks—"

"Those aren't right," I said as she brought up a screen of traditional pointy hats. Looking at them, I wondered if perhaps they were originally designed to thumb their noses at their demon kin. Demons wore flat-topped hats; witches wore pointy. "Ah, I need a flat-top, round, heavily embroidered…"

"Like this?" Sylvia said as she cleared her workspace and brought up the men's hats. "It's not a traditional hat for ley line practitioners."

"Yeah." I scrolled through the pages, searching. "I know. These are perfect," I said as I found two. They weren't the right color, but it was the best there was on short notice.

"Okay." Sylvia added them to the models, not caring one whit that we were straying from tradition. She'd probably dressed Weres as vampires and vampires as dryads. As long as she didn't know we were going for ancient demon, we would be okay. "We have enough to get you in a room," she added, smiling. "Want to try them on? It's easier to add to it from there."

"Absolutely." Eager to see how it would look, I stood.

"Great. I'll put you in the big room. You can try them on together." Sylvia handed me the tablet and walked to a wide arch at the end of the lobby. The hall was brightly lit beyond it, doors spaced in recessed alcoves like upscale hotel rooms.

I sighed as I saw the running total—which was probably why Sylvia had handed me the tablet. Elyse peered over my shoulder, snickering. "That's going to raise some eyebrows when it comes across Vivian's phone."

"Don't worry about it." I pushed into motion to follow Sylvia. "My treat," I added sourly.

Five steps ahead of us, Sylvia half turned. "We can also do this in synthetic fibers."

"Silk," I said, wondering if I had enough time for them to sew bells onto the hats.

Elyse swung her arms, apparently finding joy in the fact that I was broke. "Sylvia, can you bring out that red robe, too? Matching scarf. I don't care if it has bells on it."

"Of course!" Sylvia pushed open a door, glanced inside, and then slid the indicator to occupied . "Have a seat. I'll be right back with your items. Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?"

Elyse pushed past me, making a beeline to the couch and flopping down into it, so ready to be waited on it made my lip curl in disgust. "Some of that coffee would be splendid."

I smacked her shoulder to get her to sit up and stop being such a prima donna. "I'd love a cup, too, if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all." She hesitated. "Five minutes," she said, then shut the door, her heels click-clacking down the hall as she called for someone.

The door obviously wasn't locked, but there was no other way out and it made me nervous. I'd been here once before when I'd thought Trent had knocked up Ceri. He hadn't. It had been Quen, and the result was Ray. All of which hadn't happened yet, which was confusing all on its own. This room looked similar if a little larger with a small stage surrounded by three-way mirrors under lights. A couch and coffee table faced it. Racks and locked cupboards holding spells and props took up two more walls, all dimly lit to make the stage stand out.

A memory struck me of Trent standing on the stage dressed in a frumpy suit, charms about his neck as he tried to look like Rynn Cormel. Suddenly I found myself blinking fast to ward off the tears. I missed him. He was just across town plotting to buy the focus from me even as he was getting ready to marry Ellasbeth tomorrow. Slowly my melancholy vanished as I recalled his silent fury at me when I arrested him at his own wedding. He'd thanked me for it later, but at the time…

"I take it back." Groaning, Elyse stretched out on the couch as if to nap. "This is better than a spell shop. I still think we need to stop at one. I feel naked without my usual accoutrements. What we are wearing is not going to help. We should be outfitting our spell lexicon."

"I hear you," I muttered as I tugged at a drawer labeled eyes to find it locked. "But what we are wearing will be the difference between surviving the first fifteen seconds or not. If we do that, we have a chance to get what I need and get out. Which is why I am this close to spelling you into a closet and going by myself." Annoyed, I turned to her. "This isn't your fight. It's mine. You can't best a demon, and certainly not Newt."

Elyse smirked. "Sure I can. You've done it yourself."

I let my bag hit the coffee table with a dull thump, book and all. "You mean like circle them and make demands? Is that really what you want to be known for?"

"Kick 'em when they are down and they might hate you, but they will leave you alone." Worry marred her conviction. "And I need a stasis charm, one that will keep me alive."

I shook my head, wondering if she was going to survive being the lead member of the coven—if any of them would. She'd been fed a steady diet of "Be the boss" her entire life. There was nothing wrong with being the boss. Being mean about it was, though. Not searching for the nonaggressive solution was, too. There was nothing wrong with everyone walking away with something.

"Or you could go out for a coffee and come to an understanding," I said, and she snickered as if I was the one being naive. "Elyse, I'm going to make a deal with Newt, not subjugate her. Besides, a few days ago in this time frame I watched Newt blaspheme my church, then take down three blood circles. Magic won't best her. You have to play on her failing. Curiosity. And for that, we need to appear…intriguing, not dangerous."

Elyse brought her gaze down from the shadowed ceiling. "Always the hard way with you."

"The demons are hurting," I said, knowing she would never understand unless she saw it for herself. "Meeting their anger with mistrust and trickery only exacerbates the tension."

"Tension." She sat up. "You make it sound as if there is a way other than capture and force."

"And you wonder why I refuse to join the coven." Chin high, I slipped out of my jacket and set it on my bag, grimacing as two sequins pulled free from my shirt and drifted to the floor. "Let me get this straight," I said, voice hard as I went to the stage and the brightly lit mirrors. "You think the way to success is to go in, circle her, force her to give you a stasis charm and me an Atlantean mirror, and leave. Either she will kill us for the audacity of trying to circle her, or she will play along out of boredom and give us what we want, knowing it will make things worse."

In the reflection, I could see Elyse staring at the ceiling, hands behind her head and her feet on the arm of the couch. Silent. I wound my hair up so it would fit under the hat. "If you were half as open as Vivian was, you'd take the opportunity to listen to what I'm saying, look at what I'm doing—listen, learn." Bun held tight to my head, I reached for the spelled bobby pins. Elyse was silent as I wedged in three of them, then added one more. The messy blob was not as good as a pixy could do, but it would hold. "Maybe you should admit that you don't know squat about demons and consider that I might, seeing as I've worked with them more than anyone alive and that I am one."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Morgan." Elyse sat up, her feckless act gone. "A coven member might be worth an Atlantean mirror."

I met her eyes in the reflection. " I wanted you to stay in the library."

"Lee told us how you gave him to the demons. You have done this before."

I turned, flustered. "Lee has a skewed vision of what happened. I did not give him to the demons. He tried to give me to them, miscalculated, and was taken instead. I did, however, get him free." Or I would, in a few days' time. Which kind of sucked seeing as the man was now the architect of Trent's current legal woes.

Elyse gestured angrily. "Then why are you dressing me up like a doll?"

My next words hesitated as I saw things from her viewpoint. "I'm not dressing you like a doll. I'm dressing you as a valued asset. It will give us a good ten seconds to—"

"Not circle her," Elyse interrupted.

"Pique her interest." I got off the stage, wondering if I should go look for Sylvia. It had been a while. "I'm wearing the same thing. What is the problem?"

"Admit that giving me to Newt would be a win-win for you," Elyse said bitterly. "If I'm gone, no one will dare put you in Alcatraz and you get what you need."

I bobbed my head. "You're absolutely right, but when have I ever done the easy thing?" Silent, I came to sit at the chair kitty-corner to her. "Maybe you understand demons after all. You don't trust anyone, either."

Elyse pushed back into the cushions, arms over her chest as she stewed. I mirrored her in my stiff chair, thumping my boot heels onto the table in a silent rebuke to her mistrust. Kisten was sitting at the curb this very moment, given as a blood gift to someone, punishment for defying Piscary. Kisten would die twice tonight, and here I was, shopping with a coven member. I couldn't interfere. I couldn't change anything.

"This sucks," I whispered, and Elyse's attention flicked to me.

"Knock knock…" came cheerfully from the hall. I sat up and took my feet from the table as the door opened and Sylvia came in pushing a rolling rack with our robes and an assortment of hats, both flat-topped and pointy. Behind her was a young woman with the coffee tray. "This is Laura," the older woman said as she parked the rack beside the mirrors. "She's going to help me get you looking exactly the way you want."

Because Laura is a witch and can invoke any charms we might need, I thought. The scent of redwood almost rolled off her as she set the tray down.

"Coffee," Elyse said as she helped herself, taking a cookie as well. "Mmmm, thank you."

I stood as Sylvia unpacked the hats. "I brought an assortment of slippers, too," the older woman said as I came forward to finger the robes. There were more than two there, all of them the requested color but not all of them silk. "You're a size nine, right? And seven and a half, narrow toe box?"

"Damn, you're good." Elyse delicately nibbled the edge of a cookie.

"It's my job." Sylvia smiled. "I brought out the synthetic robes, too. They will look exactly the same."

"Looks aren't everything." I stood before the rack, touching each robe until a soft shiver lifted through me. Silk… "This is beautiful," I said as I fondled a gold sleeve. The shift to black at the hem was exquisite. Immediately I slipped it from the hanger and shrugged into it.

The silk robe iced over me like a cool breeze, lightweight and protective. I chose the sash with the most bells, wrapping the robe closed and tying it snugly. Immediately my shoulders dropped as I felt the new barrier between me and the world soothing my aura. "Perfect." I stepped onto the stage, delighted to see the faint pattern of a winding Chinese dragon in the silk. "Oh…"

Sylvia was right there, tugging at the fit around the shoulder. "If you can wait a few weeks, I can get one without the dragon."

"No, I like it." I suddenly realized I'd never bought a spelling robe for myself. Always they had been gifted, and satisfaction stole over me as I used the ties in the sleeves to bind them about my elbows where they belonged, making that little pocket as Al had shown me.

"And a hat completes the ensemble." Sylvia stood by the rack, a hand hovering over the traditional pointy hat, and I shook my head. "Flat-top it is," she said cheerfully enough, and I took it from her, feeling good as I fitted it on my head. I shifted one way, then the other, tiny bells ringing. The boots were off, but Sylvia had brought slippers, and I trusted her guesstimate fit.

"This is perfect." I got down so Elyse could get in front of the mirror. "Elyse, let's see."

Elyse looked up from the shadows, where Laura had been helping her tie her sash, bells ringing. She had a pointy hat on her head, and I cringed. Her institutional-white tennies stuck out more than my boots, and her sleeves were bound wrong, but at least it was the proper robe and not the flamboyant red she wanted.

"Under the lights," I prompted again, and the young woman gathered her robe and stepped up as if it was a waste of time.

"Good." I brusquely took the hat off and handed it to Sylvia. "Let me retie your sleeves."

Elyse yanked away from me. "I know how to tie sleeves."

Scowling, I undid the ties. "You know how to tie sleeves," I agreed as I twisted the fabric to make a pocket before tying them off. "You don't know how to tie them right. Hat?"

Sylvia handed her a flat-top and Elyse put it on—the wrong way.

"This is a man's hat," Elyse complained, her head down as Sylvia fingered her freshly tied sleeves. "I look ridiculous."

"That's because you have it on wrong," I said as I pushed it to sit squarely on her head instead of halfway off like a halo.

"What difference is it going to make?" Elyse complained. Until her gaze went to the mirror and she blinked. "Oh…" she said, leaning forward to hide her shoes. "Huh."

Pleased, I nodded. The hat did look better, but it was going to be the sleeves that would stop Newt's instinct to shoot spells first and ask questions later. Hats could be mimicked, but the peculiar twist and tie of our sleeves was unknown outside of the ever-after. Until now.

And as Sylvia continued to frown and finger Elyse's sleeve, I began to wish I had waited until we had left before I had tied them correctly.

"Laura, will you tend the front desk?" Sylvia said softly, and the young woman left, taking the empty cookie plate with her. "You've worn spelling robes like this before?" the woman asked when the door had shut, and I felt myself warm.

"Occasionally," I admitted as I arranged Elyse's sash so that the ends were the same length. Elyse was eyeing herself in a new light. So was Sylvia, making me wonder if she was seeing past the glamour. It was her job. "These are an exceptional quality."

Sylvia put a hand on her hip, a calculating gaze fixed on Elyse. "They are spell-worthy," she said, attention flicking to me. "Authenticity is what we are known for. Everything works."

"It's perfect." I jingled the bells on Elyse's sash, feeling like a demon all of a sudden.

"Perfect, except that neither of you look like a ley professor," Sylvia said. "The hat is wrong, and they don't utilize bells on the sash. We had these for the Arabian Nights courtesan."

Elyse stopped swaying, her gaze finding mine in her reflection. "She's right," she said. "What are the bells for? You asked for them specifically."

I cringed, not wanting to talk about it in front of Sylvia. "Ah, it's to confuse mystics that might be attracted to high magic? Or so I've heard."

Sylvia went to the table and picked up the coffee carafe. "If you tell me what you're trying for, I can be of more help." Silent, she poured out a cup of coffee, her expression waiting.

"Demons," Elyse said, and I stifled a wince. "We're trying to be demons."

"In spelling robes?" Sylvia asked.

"It's to scare someone," I blurted, thinking fast. "My roommate has been dabbling, and I'm hoping if we give her a good scare that she will knock that shit out."

"Oh." Sylvia sipped her coffee, not moving. "Then you will want a gender flip and red eyes. There are no female demons."

"No, this will work." I studied my reflection next to Elyse's. The young woman was cocky and sure of herself, but I clearly was in charge. "This will do nicely."

Sylvia's breath hesitated, her words unsaid as a knock came at the door.

"Sylvia? There's a man from the coven to see you?" Laura said, and I fought to keep my expression from changing.

The older woman took a slow, sedate sip of her coffee and then set the cup down. "Could you excuse me? I'll be back in five minutes."

"Sure," I practically whispered, my gaze darting over the room.

I didn't move until Sylvia had walked out and closed the door.

"Everything off." I undid the sash, bells chiming as I spun the silk into a roll around my hand and then pushed it off.

"It's Scott." Angry, Elyse stepped down from the stage and tossed her hat to the table. "It's got to be. He was at the I.S., and now here? How, by the Turn, is he following me?"

"Let's go. We have five minutes." I slipped out of the beautiful silk, and Elyse stared at me as if I was stupid.

"Five minutes?"

"That's what Sylvia said." I carefully folded the robe and tucked it in the hat. The scarf was next, and then I jammed the hat in my bag.

"You think…" Elyse glanced at the door, a hint of hope lighting through her. "Why would she give us a five-minute head start?"

"Because we gave her a brand-new authentic look," I said, impatient. "Didn't you see her fondling those sleeve ties of yours?"

"Yes, but these must cost a fortune."

I smiled as I went to the rack of robes and properly tied the sleeve of one. "Her reputation is priceless," I whispered. As is mine. "Move. Robe off. Put it in your hat with your sash. We'll figure out how he tracked us here on the way to the university ley line."

Elyse went to the door and cracked it, her shoulders tensing when Scott's pleasant voice filtered in, rising and falling against Sylvia's light banter.

I frowned at the clothes rack and the four pairs of slippers waiting for our approval. I didn't actually know if the clothes were included in Sylvia's "five minutes" comment, and a flash of guilt hit me. Grabbing a pen, I wrote a quick note. I'll return them in a few days smelling authentic. And if I didn't, I'd be dead, so feeling guilty wasn't going to change anything.

"Son of a bitch, she's telling him we're here," Elyse hissed.

"She's not going to risk Alcatraz for us." I snatched up Elyse's hat and stuffed it into my bag. I left the slippers, feeling as if it would overstep Sylvia's offer. The coffee I had no qualms about, slamming half my mug before joining Elyse at the door. She'd finally taken off her robe and sash, and I jammed them into my bag as well.

"You first," I said, wanting to put myself between her and Scott. I could do magic. Elyse could not. "Out and to the left. There's got to be a rear delivery door."

Shoulders square, Elyse boldly walked into the hall. I was right behind her, whispering a word of Latin to lock the door. Energy lit through my aura, and my fingers tingled as the spell took hold. It was only a hint, but Scott must have felt it as both his and Sylvia's voices grew louder. She was trying to stop him from pushing past her. He was good. I was better.

"Hey! You!" Scott called, and Elyse and I bolted, the young woman stiff-arming the swinging door to the back and vanishing.

I followed, and together we jogged through the small break room and into the larger, dimly lit storage area. Racks stretched to the ceiling, filling the entire length of the building.

"Go, go, go!" I shouted. Scott was thumping in behind us, and Laura's complaint rose high.

"I just want to talk!" Scott said.

"Left!" I gave Elyse a shove toward the scent of cold concrete and spent gas. They had to have a loading dock. If we could make that, we might have a chance. My bag wasn't heavy, but it was awkward, bumping into the racks as we ran for the far side of the huge room, dodging left every time an opening showed.

"Just want to talk," Elyse mocked, and my breath caught when my hold on the ley line sort of hiccupped. It was Scott…pulling on the line.

"Down!" I lurched for Elyse.

"Teneo!" Scott shouted, and I slammed into Elyse, the taste of tinfoil on my teeth as I invoked a protection circle over us both. It was undrawn, but I was pissed, and it held long enough for the spell crackling above our heads to dissipate.

Purple sparkles faded on the old oak floor, and my eyes rose to Elyse's. "Go." I pushed her to her feet. "Find the door."

I stood, a tingle of energy gathering in my hand. Gold and black bands twined in my fingers, aching until I pushed the force to my fingertips. "Implicare!" I exclaimed, throwing the tangling lines of force not at Scott—who would know how to break them—but at the rack he was passing. Gold spun between us like fairy-tale spiderwebs…and then I yanked the spell back.

Boxes avalanched from the shelves, falling on him even as I broke the charm. But it wasn't enough, so I grabbed the nearest rack and pulled it down as well, filling the aisle between us. Scott slid to a halt, our eyes locking.

"Door!" Elyse shouted triumphantly, and I spun.

"I said stop!" Scott exclaimed as I ran for the scrap of light, a mountain of boxes between us.

I blew through the door, skidding to a halt in the sun. Elyse was already at the street, waiting, and I put a hand on the cold metal latch. "Sub frigido," I whispered, satisfied when an icy ache flowed from my hand and froze the lock shut. Breathless, I spun and began to jog down the alley. Scott would have the counterspell, seeing as I had used the locking curse on him just this morning, but it might give us ten more seconds.

"Hurry!" Elyse demanded, and I tugged my awkward bag higher and shook the last of the spell from my hand. "I got us a cab." Her attention flicked behind me at the sudden banging at the door. "You should have melted the lock. Or don't they teach you that in demon school?"

"Funny." I tumbled into the cab and slid over to make room for Elyse. "Sylvia is already going to take a hit for this. She doesn't need a repair bill on top of that." I hesitated, my fingers rising to make sure my "disguise" amulet was still in place. "Can you get us out to University Commons, please?"

The driver eased the cab into motion, and I settled into the cushions only to clench my jaw in frustration. I'd left my jacket. Sure, it had been gaudy with rhinestones, but it had almost been classy. A collector's item.

Elyse looked at my stuffed bag. "I thought you said…"

"They will be going back." Not happy, I held out my hand. "Give me your pin."

She stared, not understanding. Then her lips parted. "I am the lead member—"

"Not two years ago you weren't," I interrupted, glancing at the driver. Us running into his cab like that was going to be remembered. All Scott had to do was talk to the cabbies to find out where we were going. "How long have you had that pin?"

Elyse took it from her collar, brow furrowed. "Since I was ten. Vi gave it to me."

"And I'm guessing two years ago, it probably had a tracker on it. Give it."

Her lips twitched, and in a flash of defiance, she rolled the window down and tossed it out. "Satisfied?" she said, sullen, and I nodded.

But I wasn't.