White Witch, Black Curse

The fear in Jenks's voice broke through my nonchalance, and I turned to him. "Which is why I told you and Ivy my summoning name," I said, surprised that this was bothering him so much. "He can't hold me even with charmed silver, and he knows it. Jenks, what's the matter? You're acting like there is more to this than there is."

"Nothing."

But he was lying, and I knew it.

The dust turned black when it hit the wine and sank. Jenks flew to the sill and looked out into the snowy garden, only a small patch lit by the back-porch light. All that was left besides invoking the charm was adding the identifying agent—in this case, metal shavings from the back of my dad's watch.

I drew the old pocket watch from my back jeans pocket, hefting the weight and feeling the warmth of my body in the metal. It had belonged to my dad, but it had been Pierce's before that, hence his being pulled from purgatory the night I had tried to make contact with my dad. I turned the watch over to find that the scratches I'd made eight years ago were now tarnished. I tried to remember what I had used to scrape the tiny bits into the spell pot the last time, guessing it had been my mom's scissors.

"It's the thought that counts," I said as I reached for Ivy's pair, jammed into her pencil cup, and scraped a new three marks into the old silver. The almost-unseen shavings made dimples on the wine half of the brew, and I stirred it until they settled. Almost done, and I pulled a warm, and now dry, bottle from the oven and dumped in both the lemon-yew mix and the wine, dust, roots, and holly.

Jenks hovered over it, his expression blank. "It didn't work," he said, and I waved him off before his dust could get in it.

"It's not done yet. I have to add my blood to invoke it, and I can't do that until tomorrow night," I said as I wedged a glass stopper into it and set it aside. Fortunately it was an earth charm and I could do it without tapping a line. He was frowning, and tired of his mood, I asked, "What's your problem, Jenks?"

His face tightened, and he flew to land on the book. Standing sideways to me, he crossed his arms and fumed, wings drooping. Silently I waited. "This isn't going to work," Jenks finally said.

My breath slipped from me, and I turned away, brow furrowed. "Gee, thanks, Jenks."

"I meant with Pierce."

Understanding him now, I straightened after carefully pouring a second portion of wine into the graduated cylinder. "You think I'm cooking up a boyfriend in my kitchen? Grow up."

"You grow up!" Jenks said. "Let's just say he's a nice ghost who needs a little help and is not spying on us for some demon. I know you, Rache. He is a ghost. You're a witch. He needs help, and I'd be willing to bet the first time you met him, he did something strong and powerful. And now he needs help, which turns him into freaking Rachel candy."

I couldn't help a flush from creeping up my face. Okay, maybe once, but I was smarter now. But seeing it, Jenks rose an inch.

"He's Rachel candy. And I don't want to see you hurt when you realize you can't have him."

"You think I'm doing this because I like him?" I said, mentally backpedaling. "It's not always about sex!"

"Then it's a good thing you didn't sleep with Marshal, isn't it."

Silently I reddened, eyes fixed on the wine level. Damn it!

"Tink's titties, Rache!" he exclaimed. "You slept with the guy? When?"

"I didn't sleep with him," I protested, but I couldn't look at him as I sipped the wine to the right amount. "It was just a really involved kiss." In a broad sort of way. Crap, Ford had said Pierce spent a lot of time in the belfry. I sure hoped he hadn't been up there when Marshal and I had—No, Al had abducted him before that.

Jenks landed on the bottle I'd just capped, and with his hands on his hips, he stared disapprovingly at me. "I thought you were going to leave it at friends," he said, then he slumped. "Crap, Rache, can't you just have a guy friend?"

"I did have a guy friend," I snapped, my hair swinging as I dropped the ivy roots and a holly leaf into the mortar and started grinding. "I spent two months doing friend stuff because I thought my life was too dangerous, and I found out that yeah, I can keep it friendly, but I also found out he was a really nice person. Maybe someone I might want to spend my life with. Maybe not. I didn't know I was going to get shunned. Excuse me if I thought I might finally have my freaking life together enough that I could share it with someone other than just you and Ivy!"

Jenks's wings buzzed, then went guiltily silent. Feeling bad for yelling at him, I set the pestle down and crouched to put us on the same level. "I thought I had my life together," I whispered. "I really liked him, Jenks."

"Me, too." In a soft hum, he landed by my hand. "Don't put him in the past tense."

My focus sharpened on him and I stood. "He is," I whispered. "Ever since I became shunned." Depressed, I straightened and looked to the holy dust. Ashes and dust. It sort of fit.