“It’s easier for you, easier for you to accept because you’ve had this thing…” She waved a finger beside her temple. “You’ve had this for twenty years.”

“Haven’t you?” he countered. “It’s more likely you’ve had it since you were born.”

“Because of the demon hanging on my family tree?”

“That’s right. That’s an established fact. What you do about it’s up to you. You used what you have a couple of weeks ago when we were on our way to the Pagan Stone. You made that choice. I told you once before, Layla, you’ve got to commit.”

“I have. I lost my job over this. I’ve sublet my apartment because I’m not going back to New York until this is over. I’m working here to pay the rent, and spending most of the time I’m not working here working with Cybil and Quinn on background, research, theories, solutions.”

“And you’re frustrated because you haven’t found the solution. Commitment’s more than putting the time in. And I don’t have to be a mind reader to know hearing that pisses you off.”

“I was in that clearing, too, Fox. I faced that thing, too.”

“That’s right. Why is that easier for you than facing what you’ve got inside you? It’s a tool, Layla. If you let tools get dull or rusty, they don’t work. If you don’t pick them up and use them, you forget how.”

“And if that tool’s sharp and shiny and you don’t know what the hell to do with it, you can do a lot of damage.”

“I’ll help you.” He held out his hand.

She hesitated. When the phone in the outer office began to ring, she stepped back.