Baz looks offended. “Why didn’t anyone tell me we brought home a cursed Normal?”
“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Simon says. “I don’t tell anyone aboutyourcurse . . .”
“Everyone already knows about my curse,” Baz says.
“I’m not cursed anymore.” Shepard rests a hand on my shoulder. “Penelope fixed it.”
Simon and Baz both turn to me.
“You fixed it . . .” Baz looks wary.
“How?” Simon asks.
“I’ll explain later, it’s really not that—”
Shepard literally leans in front of me to interrupt: “She summoned the demon and browbeat it into letting me off!”
“You didwhat?” Baz says, in the same tone he’s been using on Simon for ten minutes.
“You should have seen her,” Shepard says. “It was insane!”
“It wasn’t insane,” I correct. “I had a plan.”
“It was more of a hunch,” he says, “but it worked! She Matlocked this demon into submission. It was like watching someone play chess with Death.”
“What’s Matlock?” Simon asks.
Baz is still shocked. “You summoned ademon?”
“I executed a research-based plan,” I say.
“Shesummonedademon!” Shepard looks so proud, it’s making me blush. “In herliving room! And didn’t even blink!”
Simon leans into me, knocking my shoulder with his. “That sounds like Penny.”
“So no one is cursed . . .” Baz says.
“Just you, babe,” Simon says.
Baz shakes his head. “We left you alone for aweek,Bunce . . .”
Simon grins at Shepard. “This calls for a celebration! We need to celebrate.”
The rest of us frown at him. “We don’t need to celebrate,” I say. “We need to get to the bottom of this spell that was cast on you.”
“There’s no bottom to get to.” Simon is emphatic. “I’m already there. Smith cast a spell on me, it didn’t work—end of story. Literal, actual end of story. I’m not a mage.”
“Snow—” Baz chides.
“Seriously, can we focus on someone else for once?” Simon looks at Shepard. “Shep! You’re not going to hell anymore! And you don’t have to wear a jacket in the middle of June. Do you know how jealous I am?”
Shepard smiles at Simon. Baz and I are looking at each other cryptically again. I think we’re agreeing not to let Simon change the subject like this . . . (We should really come up with some hand signals or something.)
“Perhaps Snow is right . . .” Baz says carefully.
I shake my head.
Baz goes on. “If you really outwitted a demon, Bunce, that’s one for the history books.” The corner of his mouth quirks up. It’s very nearly fond.
