Never Again by Michele Bardsley Page A

to h-hear both sides of the s-story?”
    He nodded. That, too, was part of the process.
    “I love him,” she whispered. She looked at Gray, her expression haunted. “How is it possible to love someone who can do such awful things?”
    His heart clenched—the same heart Kerren had skewered with her betrayal and then her dagger. “Sometimes we’re blinded by our emotions. But we always have choices.”
    “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s true.”
    “Then tell me his name, and I’ll protect you.”
    “Protect yourself!” She shoved him away, and ran. Gray stumbled backward into a soggy stack of wet cardboard boxes and fell on his ass. Cursing, he rolled to his side and staggered to his feet—just in time to watch Marcy stop at the corner of the café, turn, and yell, “Save the witch, too. She’s in trouble. We all are!”
    Then she disappeared.
    Gray took off after her, but when he reached the street, she was gone. The rain washed everything away, any trace she might’ve left to create a tracking spell, though he could probably find something of hers in the café. Or he could just go to the house she shared with Cathleen and catch her there. He clutched the corner of the building, his side aching, and thought about what to do next. He doubted Marcy wanted to be found, but too damned bad. And what was with all the warnings about saving Lucy and everyone being in trouble?
    He hated to feel indecisive, especially when being pummeled by cold rain and the stench of the café’s refuse. Well, he might not be able to do anything about either Marcy or Lucy right this second, but he sure as hell could remind the citizens he was the Guardian of Nevermore.
    Gray reentered the café through the emergency door and went into the men’s room to dry off. If he was anywhere else, he’d draw energy to create a drying spell, but with all the negative vibes here, he didn’t dare try. He might end up being engulfed in flames—because like attracted like, and evil created evil. Magic was about keeping balance, and most spells borrowed energy from whatever living things were around. Once the task was completed, wizards and witches had to release the energy again, and send it back.
    Keeping the balance was important.
    He’d let the café get out of sync. He’d let the whole town get out of sync. Come to think of it, he wasn’t exactly in balance himself, so it wasn’t a surprise he hadn’t noticed the world around him crumbling away, shifting dangerously. Nevermore was vulnerable, and it was his fault. With the town out of magical alignment, portals could open—those that allowed in gremlins, which were annoying but mostly harmless, or those that invited in demons, which were also annoying, but a lot more dangerous. All of demonkind was magically bound to hell, and even if they managed to scrabble onto the earthly plane, either by portal shifts or by summoning spells, they could never stay for long. Still, it took no time at all for a demon to wreak havoc or, worse, make bargains with mundanes or magicals, and fuck up the sacred energies. Honestly, he was surprised a portal hadn’t popped open right in the middle of the café.
    He’d put everyone in jeopardy, but he could fix it. Nothing bad had happened yet. Marcy’s warning still worried him, but he’d know if a portal had opened, or if demons were hanging around. That kind of magic couldn’t be hidden, especially not from him. He chased away the doubts filling his mind, the ones that said he was rusty, that he was blind, that he was too far gone, that it was too late.
    It’s never too late.
    Grit had lived by that phrase. And Gray had believed it, too—until Kerren showed him that sometimes, it damned sure was too late.
    The duster had kept most of the rain off him, but his jeans were soaked from his fall, and his hair was a mess. He combed back the wet strands as best he could, and called it done. He didn’t spend too long staring at himself in the mirror. He