Black Magic Sanction

silence grew, broken only by Jax's wings. In the almost-mirror of the TV, I watched Nick sit on the edge of the bed to pull a pair of stained blue overalls over his pants. I wondered if it was the same pair he'd used when he had helped me break into Trent's grounds. Maybe I was as bad as he was.

'Bathroom is behind the kitchen,' Nick said as he stood and adjusted the straps about his shoulders. 'I've got extra blankets under the bed if you're cold or on the off chance you're not sleeping together and one of you wants the couch.'

Lips parting, I turned to give him an ugly look. Pierce's attention lifted from a rack of preindustrial buttons, his stance stiffening as he eyed Nick from under his loose black curls. 'Rachel is a lady, sir, not an adventuress. If I was not obliged to abide by good manners for the turn you gave us, I'd be of a mind to settle this off the reel directly.'

Nick said nothing, no emotion at all. Not watching his hands, he opened his top drawer and raked his arm across his dresser to dump everything in. Turning, he pulled something from his coat, on the bed, and dropped it in there, too, hiding what it was with his body. 'Rachel isn't a lady,' he said as he shut the drawer with a bang. 'She's a witch, rhymes with bitch, randy and ready. Rachel, how many men have you slept with? A dozen? Two?'

'Nick!' I protested as I stood, first flustered, then alarmed when Pierce headed for him. 'Pierce, don't!' I shouted as I got between them, my splayed fingers on his chest and stiff arm stopping him dead in his tracks. I felt a jump in energy between us, and he reddened, backing out of my reach with his eyes down and his jaw clenched.

'This coming from a man who lives in a house of assignation?' Pierce muttered.

Stiff, Nick crossed to the kitchen to put his shoes on again. I was about ready to smack Nick myself, but it wouldn't do anyone any good.

'What Rachel does is no one's funeral,' Pierce said. 'I'll allow it takes a coward to invite a woman to his diggings only to cast doubt upon her standing. Apologize at once.'

Nick's foot thumped down as he slipped his second sneaker on. 'I'll apologize if it's not true. Rachel? How about it?'

I couldn't say anything, staring at him with my arms over my middle. Why is he doing this? To hurt me? It was working, and finally Nick turned away.

'I have to go to work,' he said, grabbing a torn coat from the hook beside the door. 'There are eggs in the fridge, and some apples. Help yourself. I'll bring something back about six. If you leave and arent coming back, lock the door. Jax can get me in.'

My jaw clenched. He was goading me into leaving, hoping pride would rob me of a good day's sleep and a chance to shower. 'Thanks, Nick,' I said dryly. 'I appreciate this.' Bastard.

Pierce was stiff, and Nick's eyes flicked to him before he opened the door. A faint argument filtered in, and Jax flew out, green sparkles of discontent slipping from him. 'I'm not a monster, Rachel,' Nick said, hand on the door and feet in the threshold. 'You loved me once.'

The door shut, and I found myself shaking. 'Yeah, well, we all make mistakes,' I whispered. I wouldn't feel guilty. Nick had lied to me. Kept secrets from me. Still did.

Pierce cleared his throat, and I went warm, probably as red as my hair. Taking a deep breath, I turned. 'Pierce,' I said, wanting to explain, but he held up a hand.

'What a spit-licked son of a bitch,' he said, shocking the hell out of me. Steps slow, he went to the couch and sat, his long coat falling open and his elbows on his knees. His hat he dropped on the table. For a moment, he was silent, then, 'You sparked with him when you were younger?'

I didn't know if sparking meant dating or sex, but it didn't matter. Uneasy, I sat on the other end of the couch with lots of space between us. I felt like a whore, and mirroring him with my elbows on my knees, I took a drink of water and swung the bottle between my knees. I wasn't trying to impress Pierce, but who wants to be thought of as a whore?

'Yes,' I said, not looking up. 'A couple of years ago. I got my first demon mark because of him. I didn't know he was a thief at the time.' I looked at Pierce, seeing his gaze lost in thought. 'Or maybe I did and I was ignoring it. I've got a problem with bad men.'

Pierce's focus sharpened, and when our eyes met, he looked away. He may as well have it all. 'Nick's right, though,' I admitted, watching the water swinging in my grip. 'I'm not a particularly chaste woman. Compared to the women of your time, I'm probably a whore.'

'You're not,' Pierce protested a little too stridently, and I set the bottle down beside Nick's beer, wanting that instead. God, I was tired. And my knees were throbbing.

'I swear, and cuss,' I said, giving in and taking a swig of the beer. The bitter taste tightened the back of my mouth but it was marvelously cold. 'I don't take slights politely but tell people to kiss off.' Ticked, I set the bottle down hard. 'And I like beer.'

'I opine—I think you're a woman of your world,' he said from the far end of the couch. 'I would have a hard time seeing you pressed and powdered, dreading a life of servitude under the name of marriage. You'd die in that mold. I like you as you are, fiery and ill tempered.'

Silent, I looked at him, not knowing if he really believed it or was being polite.

My face must have given me away, because Pierce reached for me. Moving fast, I stood up, out of his reach. I went to the window to close the floor-to-ceiling blinds with fast, abrupt motions, careful to never get directly in an outsider's view. The room darkened but for the light from the skylights. Pierce never said a word.

The last blind shut, I turned, freezing when I found him right behind me. 'Ah, you want the bed or the couch?' I asked, even more uncomfortable. I mean, I'd seen him look at me with abhorrence for breaking into the library. His disgust that I'd slept with Nick, slimeball and thief, had been obvious. Sure, he had started this grand adventure as a way to get out from under Al's thumb, but he knew that I was shunned, tied to demons more than my own kind. He was a demon killer—or wanted to be—and I was the student of one.

Then again, we were both dirty. His very existence hinged on Tom's untimely death and a black curse. And when the memory of him standing at my door with his hands dripping black power sifted through my mind—I shivered.

'Bed or couch?' I repeated, frightened by mistakes that I wasn't going to make this time, and when he shifted forward, I lurched out of his path, grabbing the afghan from the back of the couch. It was the same one I'd slept under in Nick's other apartment.

He exhaled, head bowed as he dropped back a step. 'I'm of a mind to sit at the table,' he said softly. 'I don't set store by Nick's words, Rachel. A body would wonder why people think a younger time means a less randy state of mind.' His lips curved up into a faint smile as he hesitated, then added, 'Circumspect does not mean celibate.'

My fingers gripped the afghan tighter. The scent of redwood came from him, strong and heady. I swallowed hard as he hesitated a moment longer, blue eyes nothing like Kisten's holding a hint of a question; then he moved past me, his steps silent on the carpet.

J think he just made a pass at me, I thought when he settled himself at the table. Numb, I sank back down on the couch. No way was I going to take the bed.

'I'm not happy with you making me look like a fool just so you can get away from Al for a week or two,' I said, reclining with my head on the arm of the couch where I could see him. My knees protested, but it was warm under me where he had been sitting, and I could smell him there. I was so tired. I hadn't slept properly in over twenty-four hours.

'It worked, didn't it?' he grumbled, almost unheard.

'Then you don't think I need watching?' I asked, and he gave me a sideways glance.

Clearly he did, but I was too tired to be mad at him right now. His scent lingered in the cushions, the redwood blending with the whiff of electronics and burnt amber from the corner of the room. My pulse was slowing, and the ticking of four clocks became obvious. There was one on each of the four walls, and I wondered if it was part of a protection charm.

My thoughts were swirling as I tried to relax, the day's events coming back to the forefront of my mind as I finally had a chance to think about them. Until I got my summoning name back, I was vulnerable, whether I liked it or not. Uncomfortable, I wedged off my boots and tucked my feet under the afghan. Much as I wanted it