I stared at Al, not really comprehending his words, but Ro bristled.

"Impossible," he said, arms crossed and eyes ablaze. "Daemons cannot harm their witches. You know that."

Al shook his head. "Daemons can't harm their witches of their own free will. If another witch commands you to do so... That's another matter entirely."

"No," Ro argued stubbornly, "I was bound to Oscar's will, and to his will alone—believe me, he made sure of it. Even if another witch knew my name, the familiar-bond would have prevented them from using it."

Al sighed. "I highly doubt whoever gave the command phrased it so baldly as, 'go murder Oscar.' More than likely, it would be something far more subtle. 'Give this to Oscar for me; it will make him feel better,' or something like that—something that wouldn't countermand your existing directives. Oscar ordered you to check all his food for curses and poisons, and he trusted you. So, if you handed him something—a glass of water, a cup of tea, a—"

"Packet of mint cookies," Ro murmured. His strange complexion had turned an unhealthy shade of gray and his eyes dimmed to a dull gold. "I gave him a packet of cookies with his evening coffee, but..."

"But where did they come from?" Al pressed, his interest sharpening. "Do you recall?"

Ro shook his head. "They were his favorites."

"Were they?" Al leaned forward, green eyes fixed on Ro. "Try to remember."

Ro's brows pinched; then he blinked and his expression went blank.

"No, they weren't," he whispered. "Oscar didn't care for sweets at all. But he was hungry and distracted, so... he ate them, anyway."

He turned towards me, stricken.

"Ellie, you have to let me go," he said. "If there's even a chance this ludicrous theory is true, I need to be as far away from you as possible—in another realm, preferably.

It felt like a wave of ice washed through me, and my heart constricted at his words, but Al spoke before I found my voice.

"No good, I'm afraid," he said. "Yes, Ellie could banish you to the furthest reaches of the Elder Void, but if another witch knows your name, they could just as easily summon you back. They've already proven themselves powerful enough to do so."

"Physical confinement, then," Ro said decisively. "Bind me with a seal, or..." He paused and bit his lip before continuing more quietly. "I'm sure Oscar's jewelry collection is around here, somewhere."

For a moment, I didn't know what he was talking about; then I remembered the picture in the Book of Thrones, and all the gold chains and rings and piercings my father had forced Ro to wear. Kyrie had called them 'obedience bonds.'

"No way." I shook my head. "I won't do that to you, Ro."

"It wouldn't be forever," he said, and reached for my hand. "And I'll wear them willingly, for you."

"It's not a bad idea," Al said thoughtfully, "but there's a tradeoff. Ro is a very powerful weapon, Ellie. If you strip his power and restrain him then, yes—he can't be used against you. But he won't be able to defend you, either."

I frowned, not liking the idea at all, and Al went on.

"Besides, Ellie may not be a target at all."

"I think Jamie would disagree," I muttered.

"Perhaps," Al allowed, "or perhaps your unfortunate roommate was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Listen—" he leaned forward, "—whoever knows Ro's name has only used it once, as far as we know, which leaves at least two possibilities. One, they don't want to kill you at all—if they did, you'd be dead already. Or two, they don't know you exist. Either way, they seem to have had no further interest in Ro since Oscar's death."

"That I recall," Ro said.

"I imagine you'd be aware," Al replied. "You might not remember the events, but the consequences would be obvious enough.

"So, what do we do?" I asked. "I'm not banishing Ro to some hell, and I'm not chaining him up like my father did."

Al rubbed his chin. He'd calmed down a little as we'd puzzled through the implications of his finds.

"All right," he said. "We know some things we didn't know before, but the current situation hasn't changed: you're not in more danger than you have been—we're simply more aware of that danger now. So—precautions."

He paused, obviously thinking, and neither Ro nor I interrupted him. After a moment, he sighed and looked up at me.

"You should keep Ro with you at all times. Try not to let him out of your sight." He looked at Ro. "As for you: don't speak to anyone without Ellie or someone you trust with your life at your side. In the meantime..." he winced, "...perhaps a few additional bonds would be wise, Ellie. If Ro's powers are restricted, he'll be far less capable of harming you."

Ro nodded and rose from the table, his expression muted, and walked down the hall towards the stairs. He knelt and opened the angled door to the storage space beneath them, drawing forth a wooden box with a curved lid—just like an old-fashioned pirate's chest.

He carried it back and set it on the table, took a deep breath, extended one of his claws, and used it to deftly pick the little lock fastened through the hasp. It opened with a rusty click, and he set it aside and lifted the lid.

Inside was exactly what you'd expect to see in a treasure chest: a lot of gold. There were earrings, studs, necklaces, chokers, armbands, bracelets, and rings. From the expression on Ro's face, however, it might have been filled with entrails.

I sense the powers coming off it like radiation, too—every single piece was enchanted.

"This should do," Al said, reaching in and selecting a plain gold collar, which he handed to me. "Janelle can walk you through the proper enchantments. I'd do it myself, but I'm sure you trust her more than you do me, and trust is crucial for this kind of work."

Reluctantly, I accepted the piece of jewelry with a nod. "What about you?"

Al surveyed the journals still spread across the dark surface of the table.

"I'll take some these back to my office, if you don't mind," he said. "I'd like to have a closer look at them. You can come by tomorrow morning, and I'll share anything new I've learned."

I nodded my agreement and rose. As I did, a wave of exhaustion hit me, and had to shut my eyes and lean on the table for a moment. Instantly, Ro was at my side, his hand on my back.

"Ellie?"

"I'm fine." I waved him off. "Just tired. It happens sometimes."

I heard Al draw a breath, and opened my eyes to find him watching me with a sad, contemplative look. It wasn't pity, but it was close enough to make me uncomfortable.

"What?" I asked, trying not to sound defensive, and failing.

Characteristically, Al sighed.

"Oscar had the kind of far-seeing vision that elicits resistance from the status quo. He always said he was working for the greater good, and I believed him, but..." He shook his head. "When it came to what was right before his eyes, he was often blind."

"What do you mean?"

He gave me weak, weary smile. "Letting a gifted witch grow up without guidance is cruel. I'm sure Janelle has explained how to shield yourself?"

I nodded.

"Witch children are taught as much before they learn to read. You've probably dealt with this your whole life—you turn your attention to a task, or to other people, and the next thing you know, you're exhausted. Crowds are the worst, I imagine. Your attention is power, Ellie, and you may not realize it, but everything around you craves it. Did you take physics in high school?"

I grimaced. "My guidance counselor made me do it."

The corner of Al's mouth twitched. "Modern-day alchemy. Well, do you remember osmosis? How water flows from areas of most to least concentration? 'Nature abhors a vacuum,' and all that?"

I nodded.

"Well, it's the same with our energy." He gestured between us. "There is enormous energy concentrated in you, and everything around you, from people to plants and animals, wants it. They absorb it without even meaning to, because you give it without meaning to." He sighs. "Oscar was a good Throne, but a terrible father. He might have saved you a lot of trouble and pain."

A laugh caught in my throat, and I bit my lip to stop it from choking me.

"You don't say."

❧

Al drove us back to Janelle's, saving us an additional public transit headache, and dropped us off in front of her store.

We waved goodbye, and he sped off, his cheap car disappearing around a bend.

It was late and so, not wanting to disturb Janelle and Kyrie, we headed straight up to our room.

There, Ro took me in a soft embrace, bending to rest his head on my shoulder.

Taken a little by surprise, I combed my fingers through his long black hair and rested my hand on the curve at the small of his back.

"I'm okay," I said, "I'm really okay, Ro."

His eyes searched mine, their color a deep gold, darkened with intensity. "Demons have their own ways of making pacts," he murmured. "Did you know that?"

I shook my head.

"Well, we do. And we never lie."

"Never?"

He nodded. "Never."

"So... What did you have in mind?"

"I want you Ellie," he breathed. "I want you as more than my witch. Don't you want me the same? Don't you feel it?"

He pressed two fingers to my chest, and I nodded slightly, hoping my expression conveyed the rest.

His eyes blazed with pale fire. "Say my name."

I hesitated a moment, then yielded to the heat of a mutual desire.

"A'rozimbrel."

He kissed me, his body molding to mine; his hand slid up the back of my neck, and I felt his claws prick my skin.

"Again."

"A'rozimbrel," I whispered, shutting my eyes against the sting of tears as his desire consumed mine.

He pushed me down on the bed, his hands slipping beneath my clothes and up my skin, hot and smooth.

"One more time."

His breath ghosted hot against my lips. I parted them, arched against him, surrendered completely, and gasped.

A'rozimbrel!"

❧

In the morning, I awoke with a delicious sense of relaxation, my limbs tangled with the longer, stronger limbs of another. Ro, already awake, licked the salt from the side of my eye and kissed the top of my cheek.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said.

I tucked my head against his chest and laughed.

"You're going to have to come up with something better. I don't think I can live with that for... however long we'll be together."

"About that." He cleared his throat, sat up, and reached for something on the bedside table. I blinked to cleared my sleep-bleared vision and saw the collar Al had picked out from my dad's 'treasure chest.' "We should talk to Janelle."

I groaned and sat up as well, gathering the sheets at my waist. "Now?"

His bright yellow gaze met mine, and I saw everything in it—everything I'd learned so far, and everything I feared.

"Yes, Ellie. Now," he said.

"Okay" I agreed, and met his gaze with everything I had to offer in mine. "Now."

❧

Janelle wasn't pleased with our tale, but she listened, absorbed it, and adapted admirably.

After a quick lesson, I successfully erased whatever charms were already on the collar and—with Janelle's guidance—applied my own.

Then I held by breath as Ro knelt before me on the mottled carpet in Janelle's living room, and literally bared his throat to me.

"It's alright, Ellie," he said, smiling. "I'm yours anyway."

Tears slipped down my face as I looped the collar around his neck and prepared to snap it shut.

"Same," I said.

He nodded in acknowledgement.

So I bit my lip, shut my eyes, and fastened the clasp.