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his name on it.”
    “No shit,” the pixy said, making Peri wonder if he swore so people would take him seriously. “Which one?”
    “Pentimento,” Rachel said, and the pixy whistled. The clear sound struck through Peri like a forgotten memory, and she froze for an instant before slipping inside the car and starting it.
    “Dude,” Jenks said, flying down to the vent and holding on to the direction fins as it blew him back. “Hey, the engine block is still warm.”
    “It’s electric,” Rachel murmured.
    “It’s got a warming engine, though,” Peri added, turning the heat up, as he obviously needed it.
    “Any blood involved in the charm?” Rachel asked reluctantly, and Peri recoiled. “It’s a carrier of intent,” she added. “Even a drop would make a difference.”
    Peri watched, fascinated as the silver dust being blown off Jenks shifted to gold. It was hitting the seat, collecting only to fade as more was added. “Ah, Jack cut his hand on the glass when it broke. He got blood on the accelerator before he dropped it into the wine.”
    “Let me guess,” Rachel said, hand to her forehead. “He drank it.”
    It sounded nasty in hindsight, but honestly, she and Jack had done so much worse that accidentally ingesting a lick of blood was like a drop of water in the ocean. She nodded, making Rachel groan. “He, ah, also recited some bad poetry based on a Simon and Garfunkel song,” Peri offered.
    Jenks let go of the vent fin, Rachel’s hand flashing out to catch him before he hit the seat. But the pixy must be feeling better because he caught the wind under his wings and rose, hovering at the center of the still-parked car. “Witches?” he guessed, and Rachel winced.
    “Ixnay on the itchesway,” Rachel muttered, and Jenks spun to her, hands on his hips.
    “She’s got a pixy in her car, Rache,” he said sarcastically. “You really think her knowing that witches are real in our world is going to freak her out?” He glanced at Peri. “Any more than she already is?” he added.
    Peri stopped rubbing her forehead when she realized Rachel was doing the same thing. I have to be hallucinating , Peri thought. She was going to wake up in Opti’s psychology wing with Jack bringing her cocoa and toast.
    “So we got blood and wine,” Jenks said, his tone apologetic. “And words of power. What’s an accelerator?”
    Peri’s head snapped up. “Classified.”
    The tiny man spun in a circle, a burst of dust lighting the car. “There it is!” he crowed. “I bet you ten jars of honey that’s what did it. Whatever an accelerator is.”
    “I’m sure Peri will tell us,” Rachel said, a new tone of warning in her voice. “I am not staying here.”
    Jenks landed on the top of the wheel, strutting back and forth as if they were halfway home already. “Yeah, you don’t want to see Rache homesick. Last time she got homesick, she blew up the St. Louis arch and burned down Margaritaville. Not to mention trashing San Francisco. Blamed it on an earthquake. We’re still not allowed in California. Or on a plane.”
    “I was not homesick. I was doing my job,” Rachel said sullenly, it clearly being a sore point.
    All the same place names , Peri thought, wondering if she was strapped to a chair in a rival company’s basement, hallucinating it all. But then she looked at Jenks’s wings, and marveled. She couldn’t invent anything that beautiful. Or snarky.
    “Peri,” Rachel said, pulling her attention from Jenks. “What is an accelerator? Some kind of ley line tool?”
    Peri started the car, the need to go home and see Jack almost an ache. “It’s new technology,” she said guardedly as she pulled out. “Really new. One-of-a-kind. It breaks down a communication wavelength into individual particles so it can carry more information.”
    “A lot more?” Rachel asked, and Jenks went to sit again on her earring.
    Peri shrugged, unable to bring herself to look at them. As weird as it was seeing a tiny man