I floated in a sea of nothing for a time. There was no light or sound to detract from the darkness. Suddenly, I could hear my mother's voice. She was humming a haunting melody I was sure I'd heard before, but couldn't place. I could feel warm sunlight and smell bread baking, like it was a Sunday afternoon in my mother's kitchen when I was a child.

Soft light grew all about me, forms taking shape in my vision, textures becoming real to my senses. It was the kitchen of my childhood home, but I was sitting at the heavy farmhouse-style table from my church. Ivy's things were even there-her laptop, pens, maps, and miscellanies in their rightful places, orderly as usual. There, at the stove stood my mother with her back to me, looking exactly the same age she was when I was a little girl, though she hadn't aged much since. I looked down at my hands, noting that they looked the same as they did when I last looked at them: I was my current self, not a younger version.

"Rachel, will you bring out the fennel seed?" her voice came clear as a bell over her shoulder. She stirred a pot I couldn't yet see, with her body blocking my sight. I got up and went to the pantry, to the spice rack, smelling redwood over the pervading scent of the bread. Mom had been spelling, recently, and must be, still. I brought out the herb she asked for, handing it over with a happy smile. I loved it when Mom was spelling.

She returned my smile. "Thank you, dear. I don't know how I'd get this done without you. You're my special ingredient." The turn of phrase was off somehow, but I'd longed to be back in my mother's kitchen for so long, I refused to let my feeling of trepidation sully our time together.

She returned to stirring and humming. I watched her hand create intricate patterns with the spoon as the melody and her voice washed over me. "What are you making?" I asked her finally.

"Don't you remember? I'm finishing what you started. This spell is the first step," she told me matter-of-factly. I tried to remember what she was talking about. In relief, I realized that we were discussing the spell before, while I sat at the table. I couldn't remember what it was, but it didn't seem to matter. "It's time," she declared, and held the finger stick out to me. "Three drops, if you please."

Something inside me rebelled at the idea of my blood being used to kindle whatever was in the pot. "Mom? What do you need my blood for?"

"Why, demon magic, honey. I can't use my blood. How else are we supposed to bring all my children home?"

"Robbie? We're bringing him home?" I used the finger stick, massaging three drops into the brew, eager for us all to be a family again, like we used to. Burnt amber swelled up in the steam, but I knew it was for a good cause. I so wanted my family to come home.

"All my children," she nodded, pleased with my contribution. She took the pot off the flame, letting it sit by itself on the counter. Returning to me, she enfolded me into a soft hug. Pulling back, she touched my nose with her finger tip, beaming. "My special ingredient," she named me, and the dream dissolved back into mist.

When I came to, I was laying on a bed in an unfamiliar room. Ceri sat beside me in a rocking chair, knitting and humming the song from my dream. I felt the pieces click into place. That was why I was dreaming of a strange melody. Ceri's humming must have filtered into my subconscious. I had a moment of concern that maybe it had been elven magic, remembering that I'd almost been sung to death in St Louis, but Ceri would never want to harm me. She hadn't noticed that I was awake, so I took the opportunity to close my eyes and pretend to still be asleep so I could think about a few things before I had to face my friends again.

Al had duped me with his Pierce disguise. He'd had him around long enough to study his mannerisms, until even I was fooled into thinking he was one of my former lovers. Granted, I'd been worn out with all the magic practice and wasn't at top form, but he'd had me completely convinced that I was talking to Pierce in my kitchen. His deviousness and superb acting skills were far beyond what I had imagined, and he'd done it all… why? To kiss me? To send me into a spiral of madness? He had to know I would find out when the sun came up.

Just how much of it had been an act? Obviously, asking me about why I decided to come back was just so he could confirm what I'd told him before, to get a second opinion, so to speak. His second question, about whether or not I'd come back for Pierce, was also loaded. He'd played that one to a tee, but perhaps his reactions had stemmed from truth, rather than duplicity. I remembered he'd looked relieved. That part had to have been his true reaction. It wasn't until after he'd determined that I wasn't in love with Pierce that he'd finally kissed me. He had given me a hint, there before he had, about how he knew he wasn't the man for me. He had told me the exact same thing after I'd made my first Tulpa and he'd seen my naked soul.

Exactly what had been his end game? I couldn't figure out what he was after. The last time he'd kissed me, it had been about pushing me to defend myself. It had been a fight to the death, leaving me bruised, breathless, and feeling besieged. This time, he had kissed me like a lover, like a man, and not like an attacking demon. Was he hiding behind his Pierce disguise so he could get close enough to me without triggering my defenses? Had he really only wanted me to treat him like a man?

One kiss, freely given and received. Was that truly all he was after? The question spun around and around in my head, and I had no real answer. I couldn't even fathom how he had gotten into reality without being summoned, first. Did he ride through on my coattails, so to speak? Were the restrictions keeping demons in the everafter weakening, like I'd claimed before? My thoughts kept spinning back to the unrequited love I'd spied in his eyes, eyes I thought belonged to Pierce. I doubted that he could have duplicated it. It seemed too damn honest. Too damn real. I groaned aloud, forgetting for the moment that I wasn't alone.

Ceri's humming stopped abruptly. "Rachel? Are you conscious?" I heard the rustle of fabric as she stood to check on me. Her had was cool on my forehead.

I opened my eyes, feeling like a coward for hiding from my friends. I must have scared them half to death when I fainted. "How long was I out?" I asked her, taking the glass of water she held out to me gratefully.

"We summoned you at dawn. It's past four, now. You were asleep for a full eight hours."

I groaned, sitting up and sipping at my water. "I'm not looking forward to going back," I admitted. "Winter hours are going to kill me."

She nodded, her suspicions confirmed. "I told everyone you were just magically exhausted. A body can't keep up with that, if it's not used to it." She smiled a smile of sharing. "My first month was a lot like that, but it'll get easier, in time. Channelling so much force at once can be hard on your reserves. I'll make sure the cooks serve you something with plenty of calories and vitamins."

"Where's Ivy? And Jenks?"

"They've gone home. Jenks had to get back to his kids and Ivy had to get her own rest."

Suddenly my face flamed. There was no telling what the kids had seen or heard while Al was masquerading as Pierce in order to kiss me in my kitchen. Since Pierce, the real one, had been here with them the whole time, Jenks would quickly figure out who I'd been lip-locked with and was sure to let Ivy in on it. I groaned and hid my flaming face in my hands. I was such an idiot.

"Rachel? What's wrong?"

Ceri's soft concern was a balm to my angst. She had been his familiar for a thousand years. If anyone would be able to shed some light on my dilemma, and possibly understand what I was going through, she would. "I was in my kitchen when you guys called me here," I began, choosing my words carefully. "I had arrived in the graveyard and walked in from outside. When I went in, I saw Pierce waiting for me."

A frown of confusion marred her pretty features at my pronouncement. "Pierce came here as soon as you left the everafter. He said that Al disappeared immediately after you did. He said he was worried about what the demon was up to. He wanted us to summon you at first light, where Al could not follow or redirect your travel."

"Well, I thought it was Pierce in the kitchen, at the time. He let me believe it, and proceeded to ask me why I decided to go back. To the everafter." She nodded for me to continue. "I gave him the same reason I gave every one else. This is who I am now. I won't apologize for it. I intend to make the most of it." She smiled encouragingly. "Then, his questions became more personal. He wanted to know whether I had gone back for him. For Pierce," I clarified. "I told him no, that I came back for myself. That was when he decided to kiss me, or maybe he'd wanted to, all along. I can't be sure. Ceri, has Al ever appeared as one of your old lovers to torment you?"

The dawning light of understanding came upon her. "Pierce was Al," she murmured to herself. Giving her head a swift shake, as if to clear it, she met my eyes once again. "I do not think he did it as a torment if he did not try to hurt you. Many times, once we had grown used to one another, he would take on forms he thought I would find pleasing, to get me to, ah, enjoy it more. To participate more, when, well. You know." Now, it was her turn to blush. "Although he held my soul from me, he also tried to be kind in his own way. I do not think I ever really got to know him beyond what he would show me. If you are looking for guidance in this, I am not sure I would be able to help you. I was not myself."

"I still don't understand the seating arrangement," I admitted, trying to see things through her eyes as his familiar.

"One of his quirks, I suppose. The soft, comfy chair was for me, though I had a lower station, and the hard, low stool was for him. He was cruel in a lot of ways, and I will be eternally grateful to you for freeing me of his grasp, but not every day was hell. There were some bright spots."

"So, impersonating Pierce. What do you think it means?"

"I am not sure, although I would wager he was trying to get answers to his questions and he thought he'd get truer ones if he appeared as one who had your trust."

"Trust," I mused.

"Everything comes down to that. Demons crave it, though they do not often deserve it. Some times, I think they just want to be given the chance," she pondered.

We sat for a little while, listening to our own thoughts. It felt good to have some one to talk with about what happened, someone who wouldn't immediately judge me or jump to conclusions. "He slipped up, at the end," I mentioned. "He gave himself away. I never would have known the difference, had he done otherwise. I'm pretty sure I would have figured it out when I saw Pierce standing there with you all, but he forgot himself. I'm not sure if he did it on purpose."

"Did you enjoy it? The kiss?" I didn't know why she cared, what she was getting at. Warily, I nodded. "Then I think he did it on purpose. He may have used the disguise to get you there, but he wanted you to know who was kissing you."

"That's… just… wow. Kinda disturbing," I laughed. She smiled along with me, and we shared a moment of understanding. "Still, he's got to know I'm going to be mad at him for tricking me."

"Something tells me he'll find the consequences to be worth the risk. Come. Let's get you fed so you can go give him a piece of your mind tonight when you return. You'll need to keep your strength up and I know a couple of little elves who are dying to visit with their Aunt Rachel."

Dinner at Trent's was a raucous affair. Lucy had become independently mobile startlingly fast, and it took all of Trent's efforts to keep her in her chair long enough to eat. Emily, Ceri's baby girl, liked to play with her food by flinging mouthfuls back at whoever was on the other end of the spoon. More of it ended up on the outside than in. Both of them babbled nonstop in their nonsensical baby language, understood only by the two of them. It was satisfying to see Trent's perfectly quaffed hair marred by a string of split-pea soup and his poise stretched to the limit by fatherly patience. Beyond the tired, wild look in his eyes, though, lurked a kind of blissful happiness just beneath the surface. I felt a pang of envy. I was used to envying Trent, though, so I let the feeling pass me by, unheeded.

I contented myself with being an aunty in for a visit. As Lucy zoomed around the table for another pass, I reached out my arm and snagged her up in a spin. She burbled happily and clapped her hands and I cooed to her as I settled her on my hip, bouncing. Trent looked grateful for the reprieve and set to his meal like he wouldn't get another chance to finish it. I wondered where Quen was as I carried Lucy over to the window to gaze out at the winter-brushed landscape. She pointed at things with a question in her intelligent gaze and I named each thing she pointed at. She tried to mimic the sounds of each word, to force baby tongue and lips into adult speech. She didn't yet have the fine motor control so the result came out garbled, and she soon tired of the game, squirming to be let down.

I placed her feet back on the floor and she was off like a shot, running almost before she could walk. Ceri lifted Emily from her high chair and placed her on the rug beside the table so she could join her sister in play. Emily immediately began crawling after Lucy, who slowed a bit so her erstwhile sister could catch her up. Those two were a real handful, but they were gorgeous and sweet and could get away with practically anything. I returned to the table to finish my food, content for the moment to watch them entertain each other. Trent and Ceri had much the same idea, so the meal was completed in relative silence over the sounds of exuberant elf children, happy with the world and their place in it.

"I have no idea where they get all that energy," Ceri remarked, sitting back in contentment. As her shirt pulled taut over her belly with the action, I noticed what had escaped me before.

"Ceri, are you… again?" I whispered, not wanting Trent to overhear if he didn't know yet.

"Oh, this?" She patted her belly softly. "No, this is just the baby weight, not another bump. Quen and I wanted to wait for a year or so. We've just gotten to the point where we're not being woken up in the middle of the night. Elven princesses do need their rest, you know," she chuckled, rising to go corral the children with a circle, to keep them away from the stairs.

I languished a while longer in the warmth of a family, missing mine. I would never get back what had been lost. That I knew. My dream might have indicated otherwise, but that was all it was: just a dream. I sighed, a little melancholy.

"You could have all this, too, Rachel," Trent murmured to me, my own words coming back to haunt me. "All you have to do is accept my offer."

"Which offer, Trent? That I come work for you? Or do you mean something else?"

"With me, Rachel. Not for me. Say you'll think about it."

I considered what he was saying and what he wasn't. I contemplated a life spent raising the next Elven generation, a life of playing nanny and changing diapers, of arguing with Trent over where they would go to school, what magic to teach them. Of nights spent on his arm at some gala or another. I saw it all. It was a good life, even a glamorous one. I stared at the wall, watching moments in time that may be, or may never meet my wild speculations. "Where do I fit in?" I wondered, coming back to myself as I realized I spoke the thought aloud.

"Wherever you want to," Trent answered evenly. I fixed my gaze on him, searching his face for answers beyond the words, but his face was closed off. It gave no clue as to how far the offer went. I dared him without words to elaborate on that. I met his eyes and held them, staring at him and hoping he'd just come out and say whatever was on his mind.

He stared right back, better at the silent game than I could ever be after his years spent negotiating in boardrooms. I wasn't ready to make the leap of faith and ask him, and he wasn't going to risk rejection if he laid it all on the line. I still had too many uncertainties about how he lived his life. I had no doubt that if he wanted me to work with him enough that he'd beguile me into thinking that he cared for me beyond an employee or a business associate. We weren't even really friends, yet, though he'd made multiple efforts on that front. I might have had a vision of standing on his arm, but the reality was that he and I were from vastly different social strata, from completely different walks of life. Our one, never-talked-about kiss was proof that we had chemistry, but the day-to-day reality of trying to make a relationship work would eventually leave me feeling like a sow's ear trying to be a silk purse, if that's even what I wanted, or he would be willing to give. I still had no clue what he was really after all this time, beyond getting me under his thumb as he'd been trying to do all along. I looked away, defeated. "I'll think about it, all right?" I grumbled finally, just to get him off my case.

"Really? You'll consider it?" He pressed, his smile turning boyish and charming. In that moment, I hated him just a bit, the familiar feeling somewhat comfortable after all this time.

"Yes. Now will you stop bugging me about it every chance you get? It's starting to get old. You may want to change up your tactics," I hinted, just to be mean. "I have to get home, soon. It's getting dark." I stood up, watching a flicker of genuine regret float over his face before it was schooled away once again. "Your fingers are looking much better." I mentioned, suddenly not ready to leave.

"The stitches from the surgery healed evenly. They are confident that there will be little to no scarring."

"They?" I prodded. "Witches or doctors?" Modern medicine had been stunted since the Turn, but Trent had plenty of avenues to choose from in that department, most of the illegal bio drug industry being paid for by his deep pockets.

"A little of both," he admitted. "If you want to know any more, you'll have to come work with me to find out." He wiggled the digits that had been replaced with a minimum of stiffness. I couldn't berate him for the replacements, however he'd come by them. He'd lost the fingers because of me.

"I uh, gotta go," I reiterated, "and I am kinda stuck here unless you want to give me a ride."

"I'll have a car take you," he replied, standing up as well. He made his way over to the intercom. "Clancy, have a car brought around for Miss Morgan," he ordered into it.

I rode back home in comfort and style, never having to step outside until I'd arrived at my church. I made the dash, freezing my butt off all the while, hating how long the walk from the curb to the front door was and resolving to get myself a disguise with a winter coat the next time I spelled. Shrill pixy laughter swirled about the sanctuary as I pushed the door shut against the stiff wind that sprang up from outside.

Jenks met me halfway to the kitchen, sparkling dust red with worry. "Rache! Are you ok? When you fainted I thought I was going to have a heart attack."

"I'm good, Jenks. I just really needed some sleep, I guess. Hey, is Ivy here?"

"She went to Rynn's as soon as she woke up. She wants you to call her on her cell asap."

"Trouble in Vampville?"

"Not really. She was getting edgy and thought she ought to feed in case you came home all hot and bothered again. By the way, what were you doing when you got yanked over to Trent's?"

I sighed. "I was kissing a Pierce look-alike. I thought it was him at the time. Turns out, I'm just an idiot. End of story." I made fast strides to the kitchen, needing something a little stronger than tea if I was going to make it through the next ten hours with my wits about me.

"It was Al, wasn't it?" Jenks demanded, dust spilling behind as he paced me on my way toward sweet caffeine. "I knew I smelled demon in here."

"Well, it certainly wasn't Ku'Sox," I snapped, grabbing up my mug from the rack by the sink. Ivy must have washed it while I was snoozing away at Trent's.

"So, what are you like his demon girlfriend now?" He floated in front of me with his hands on his hips.

"He tricked me. I thought he was Pierce. He's a very convincing actor when he tries to impersonate somebody."

"Are you and Pierce…?"

"NO! Turn take it, Jenks, it was a one-time thing. I'm mad as hell that he tricked me and madder still that he used my history with Pierce to do it. I'm going to scream his ear off when I see him."

"It looked like more than just a kiss," Jenks teased, flitting out of the way as I took a swipe at him. "It looked like you liked it. Al and Rachel, sitting in a tree," he sing-songed. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

"Jenks! Shut it! What are you, like twelve?"

He quit singing in favor of turning his back to me with his arms wrapped around himself, making smoochy noises and wiggling provocatively.

"Fine. You just amuse yourself at my expense. I'm going to go call Ivy. I gotta go back soon and I have way too much crap to do. Have you seen Bis?"

Jenks quit pantomiming a make out session and turned back to me. "He's on your bed. He's been moping since you left, I'll bet."

"Great. Thanks." I threw up my hands and stalked to the phone, getting my call to Ivy over with before I dealt with my gargoyle. It wasn't my fault a summoning separated us. Without another leyline witch, like Pierce, he couldn't come after me. As soon as we got this bond thing sorted, he'd be able to find me anywhere. Until it was cemented, he could assist other witches in feeling the line, but we'd always get stuck apart if I was summoned, unless he was riding the summoning with me.

I picked up the phone, dialed Ivy's cell, and went to voicemail. "Ivy, I'm safe back at home, for the moment. I just needed to sleep off my exhaustion. No need to worry. I'll be back before dawn, if I leave before you get this. Have a good night."

I replaced the phone in its cradle, resolving to spend as much time with her during the weekends as I could. My new schedule had me in the everafter most of the time I was awake. This must have been what had Al so cheerful when we'd negotiated. It was winter, not yet the Solstice. The nights were longer than the days. It would be better for me in the Summer, but for the moment, he got the sweeter end of the deal. I ran over the terms again in my head as I entered my room to find Bis curled up on my bed. He looked rather dejected there, and my heart melted anew.

"Sorry, Bis," I said, settling down on the mattress beside him. "Next time I'll yell for you before I let the summoning have me."

"It's all right, Miss Rachel, you don't have to do that," he said, turning to fix his luminous red eyes on me. "I know it hurts you to resist."

"The pain would be totally worth it, to have you with me. I had to beg a ride from Trent." We pulled a face at one-another. I was glad that we were still good. "Is that why you came in to my room, because you missed me?"

"Of course. Your bed smells like you."

"My bed… my bed. Oh, Bis you're a genius. I think I just found my loophole to renegotiate the terms of my agreement with Al," I grinned in anticipation.

"He's slippery when it comes to this stuff, Rachel. You might not get your way."

"Even if I don't, it's Friday, right? I have weekends off."

"Thank Goodness for Fridays," Bis agreed.

"Well, Bis, are you all packed for our trip to the everafter?"

He looked around himself, as if running a silent inventory. "All packed," he declared.

"Well, then. Let's not keep my duplicitous demonic teacher waiting. I have a few bones to pick with him and a lot of spelling to do." I went to my closet and found my warmest coat for the trip outside. I didn't like disappearing in and out of my church. I felt like if I got too demonic with the lines while inside, the hallowed ground might reject me. It was just a silly bit of superstition, but it made me feel better to do my line-jumping in the yard.

I made my way out through the back sitting room and paused just as I was about to pass out of it and into the kitchen as something on the t.v. caught my eye. All the pixy children were gathered around it with Jenks, watching the news. I wandered over to the coffee table to grab the remote, raising the volume so I could hear.

"…. no witnesses to the crime have yet come forward. Again, if you're just joining us, the breaking news story of the hour is that persons unknown have stolen the figure at the top of the fountain, known as the Spirit of Cincinnati, defacing the city's most recognized public landmark. No groups have come forward to claim the theft and no demands of ransom have yet been made. We go live to fountain square, where field correspondent Marlene Wales is standing by."

"Thank you Tricia. I'm here with officials of both Interland Security and the Federal Interland Bureau as they investigate this tragic act of terrorism on the city's most beloved landmark…"

I tuned out most of what the reporter was saying as I scanned the scene behind her for familiar faces. I saw Glenn standing off to the side, talking with Ivy. It looked like mass confusion as both the IS and the FIB worked to determine jurisdiction over the scene, or tried to come around to some sort of collaboration on the investigation. The were reporter stared out at me with a serious face, interspersed with shots from the news helicopter, showing the milling crowd of law-enforcement agents around a fountain that was missing the finial. Yellow tape marked the boundary, where hundreds of people gathered in the snow on the street. The entire thing looked like a giant cluster-fuck in my opinion, but now I knew why Ivy wasn't answering her phone.

"That… sucks." Jenks proclaimed, mirroring my sentiment. I'd always loved that fountain, and the bronze, life-sized greco-roman representation of a woman at the top, with her outstretched arms spraying water over the sides had been my favorite part. The fountain was naked and incomplete without her.

I wanted to know more, but at the moment, the press wasn't being told anything else. There was nothing I could do, so I left the investigating to the professionals until they had somebody for me to tag. Until then, I had a job to do of my own, an ass to kick, and new spells to stir. None of that was going to get done on its own.

"Keep me posted, Jenks. I gotta run."

"Sure thing, Rache."

I swung my coat over my shoulders, motioned for Bis, and went out into the night.

a/n

So the plot begins to thicken. I want to thank everybody for their awesome reviews. You guys rock my socks! You give me the strength to push on through and keep writing when I feel like I'm stuck. I do it all for you, so keep 'em coming!

Next up, Al gets his comeuppance… or does he? Rachel gets more spelling done, and the shrimps get eaten.