[English] THE WITCH WITH NO NAME

The Witch With No Name
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I wanted to lash out, drive her away. I loved Trent, and she was going to ruin it! But what I did was clear my throat and pleasantly say, “Excuse me, Ellasbeth?”

There was a moment of shocked silence, then, “Rachel? I’m talking to Trent.”

Jenks hummed into the hallway from the kitchen, and I waved at him to be quiet. “Actually, you’re not,” I said, and the pixy hovered close, grinning. “He fell asleep, and I’m asking you not to call again for at least four hours unless it’s an emergency.”

She was silent, but I could hear her anger as she breathed. A small part of me felt bad. I’d vacationed in Camp Dumped before, and it hurt. “Look,” I said, holding the phone closer. “He’s been up for forty-eight hours. Jumped realities twice, rescued a soul from hell, and adopted a dog,” I said, and Jenks gave me a glittering thumbs-up. “He’s doing the smart thing and catching some Zs before coming home, okay? And until he wakes up, I’m holding his phone in case there’s an emergency. Is this an emergency?” I knew it wasn’t, but I couldn’t resist the tiny dig.

“You are not his wife,” she said caustically.

“Neither are you,” I said right back. Okay, maybe two digs.

“No, I’m just the mother of his child.”

I warmed even as I waved Jenks back. “Right, I’m glad you brought that up,” I said, doing my utmost to be reasonable, but wanting to impart a few things to her and the only way she listened to anyone was if they hit her with a stick. “God help me, but I’m the only one who thinks you spending time with the girls is a good idea, and I’m starting to have second thoughts. I’m your advocate for Lucy, so quit pissing me off.”

Again she was silent, worrying me. A silent elf is a thinking elf, and Ellasbeth wasn’t known for her kind thoughts.

“Ellasbeth, Trent is trying to do the right thing by the girls, but every time you force your way in, you’re making demands that make him feel more threatened.” My head hurt, and I took a breath, hating myself. “If you would back off a little, he’d be a whole lot more comfortable with the idea of sharing Lucy.”

Why am I doing this? I thought. But for all the rightness between us, I couldn’t help Trent, and Ellasbeth . . . Ellasbeth could. I might not like her, but I’d seen her with the girls, and she was a good mother. Trent loved me, but if I took away his choice, our love would be tainted with the thought that I’d selfishly ruined his shot at what he’d been striving for his entire life.

I’m not afraid to love someone.

“You said you weren’t going to confuse him,” Ellasbeth said. “He has responsibilities, demands, and now you’re sleeping with him!”

I slumped against the wall, guilt warring in me. “Yeah. Sorry about that. It just kind of happened.” She huffed with anger, and I forged ahead. “But I’ll tell you what, Ellasbeth. Tell me that you love him—”

“I love him,” she said hotly, and in some way, I think she did. She was too bitter not to.

“Then tell me you love him enough *****pport his decision to try to ease tensions between the elves and demons, and I’ll drive him back to his estate myself.” Say no, please say no . . .

“What does that have to do with anything?” she blurted out.

It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. “Everything,” I said, even more conflicted. “You can talk to Trent in four hours, ’kay?”

The phone clicked off from her side of things, and I hit the end key. “That was fun,” Jenks said, and I met his eyes, not sharing his enthusiasm.

“No, it wasn’t.” Crap on toast, I was shaking, and I tucked the phone into my back pocket, thinking it felt unfamiliar. “Excuse me. I have to leave Trent a note.”

The pixy was grinning as I opened my door, warning him to stay out as I shut it. Trent’s feet had shifted, and I pulled the afghan up over him, smiling at his face, relaxed in sleep. “Thank you for keeping Jenks safe tonight,” I whispered as I reached for the notepad beside my clock.

“Don’t go.”

His whispered voice slid through me. Warm and content, I sat on the edge of the bed. “I talked to Ellasbeth,” I said as I pulled the afghan up even more. “You can crash here. She’s going to call in four hours.”

His hand came out to find me, and the blanket fell away. “I heard,” he said. “Don’t go.”

He slid to the far edge of the bed, afghan raised for me to join him. “I need a shower,” I said, eyes on my closet, and he pulled me down, arm going over me as he gentled me to him.

“I like the way you smell.”

A quiver shook me as he sighed and spooned closer. It was warm where he’d been, and the scent of him was everywhere, the hint of burnt amber almost not unpleasant. My shoes felt funny on the bed, and I felt him sigh. “I have stuff to do,” I protested, not moving.

He tugged me closer. “I like that you care about Ellasbeth,” he said, shocking me. “She’s a hard woman to understand. Her heart is good, though.”

“Um, yeah.” He was falling asleep again. I could stay until he did.

“Promise you won’t leave me,” he whispered, my hair moving in the breath of his words.

“I already did that,” I said, but I was looking into the future, and I saw myself alone. Why was I even pretending? But I knew why.

“No, you almost left me tonight.” His words were slurring. He was drifting off, not really awake. “You almost became shadow. I saw it. Promise me you won’t go. Don’t leave me. I won’t know what is right and what is wrong if you do, and I like doing the right thing.”

Becoming shadow. I lay there unmoving, suddenly very much awake as I recalled the blackness of nothing. It had been real, and he and Jenks had pulled me out of it. “I’m here,” I breathed, needing to feel him behind me.

“I’ve not done anything really wrong in a long time . . . ,” Trent said, words trailing into nothing. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t move, the warmth between us comforting. Slowly Trent’s grip eased as he fell asleep. I listened to him breathe as I wondered how it had gotten so complicated.

Falling in love was the easiest thing in the world to do. Why was it always so hard for me *****rvive it?

Chapter 11

Something had changed. I froze, even as my eyes opened and my fingers clenched on the top of my afghan. The warmth behind my back was gone. I could see little in the predawn gloom of my room. I fell asleep, I thought, not surprised. Trent had been spooned up behind me, and we’d both been tired, the stress of meeting Cormel’s demands bringing me down long before I’d usually fall asleep.

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The sound of breathing drew my attention. Trent was a dangerous shadow at my propped-open window. My pulse pounded. I’d done this before—waking up to an approaching threat—but Trent being with me was new. We’d both fallen asleep, still dressed and with our boots on—probably a good thing in hindsight. “What’s going on?” I whispered.

Trent gestured me forward, his gaze fixed outside. “There’re people among the stones.”

Crap on toast. I pushed the afghan off and stood. He looked as scary as all hell hunched at my window, and I felt queasy from lack of sleep. “Where?” I tucked my hair behind an ear and leaned closer to find the scent of spoiled wine amid the lingering burnt amber. He wasn’t happy. Neither was I.

There was nothing to see in the predawn murk, not even a pixy sparkle. “I don’t see anyone,” I whispered as I tucked my shirt in. I needed a shower in the worst way.

“Me either, but they’re out there.” Trent squinted out the window. “Hear the birds? I’ve been listening to them for the last half hour, and something is wrong.”

Chilled, I held my arms around myself. He’d been tucked in behind me, wide awake as he held me and listened to me sleep. Otherwise, how would he have heard the change in the birds? A robin chirped an alarm call, answered by another. There’re people among the stones.

“Cormel promised. He promised to leave us alone!” I protested as I drew back.

“He promised that you no longer look to him for protection.” Trent took his hand from the window. “It might not be him.”

My thoughts zinged back to the vampires at Eden Park. Swell. Not six hours ago I’d told Ivy that it would be okay. Damn it, how could I have just fallen asleep? Worried, I reached my awareness out and tapped the line out back. Energy slipped in, and my skin tingled where it touched Trent. He was already tapped into it, and feeling almost shy, I slipped my hand into his.

His grip was warm, his fingertips slightly rough. They’d raise goose bumps should he trace them over my skin. He took a slow breath as we both eased our respective holds on our energies, and with a swirling back-and-forth tide of tingles, our balances equalized.

“This is not what I wanted to do today,” I said, hands still intertwined as we looked for the first hints of the intruders.

Trent’s grip tightened at the sudden sound of pixy wings. Hands clasped, we turned as Jenks slipped in through the crack under the door. His dust was a dull silver, and he stopped in shock when he saw us looking at him.

“You’re up!” he said, a thread of brighter gold slipping from him. “And dressed. Tink’s titties, you were sleeping? Seriously?”

Trent’s fingers left mine. “Who’s in the garden?” he asked.

“Oh yeah.” Humming closer, Jenks landed on the sill, hands on his h*ps in his best Peter Pan pose. “Jumoke and Izzy are doing a count, but it’s vampires. None of them is Cormel’s.”

My teeth clenched. “Son of a bastard,” I whispered as I reached for my phone, only to remember I’d left it in the kitchen. I had Trent’s, though, and I handed it to him. “Where’s Ivy?”

“Out,” Jenks said, bringing both Trent and me up short. “She and Nina took Buddy to a vet-in-a-box to get him checked about an hour ago.”

“She left?”

“Yeah. That’s when the vampires showed up. I wasn’t going to bother you unless they moved. Hell, if I’d known all you were doing was lying next to each other with your clothes on, I would’ve told you right off. Tink’s diaphragm, you were sleeping?”

Ivy isn’t here. My first flush of fear shifted to an ironic relief, and I sat on the edge of my bed so I could pull up my socks without taking off my boots. “They aren’t after Ivy. Why?”

“I’m more concerned with who.” The dim light from Trent’s phone made his face severe. “No calls, not even a text,” he muttered. “I suggest we leave the church, circle around back, pick off one at the outskirts, and find a quiet place to chat. Mark’s is open, isn’t it?”

My lips parted. “And let them have the run of the church? I just got it cleaned up!”

Jenks bristled. “We can take them, cookie bits.”

Trent glanced up, a hard, I’m-down-to-salvage look to his face. “No doubt. We can stay and fight them off, but we’ll leave significant damage to the church and we might never find out who sent them or why.”

Allow them access to everything in the hope that they don’t damage or steal it all? It hadn’t worked in World War II, and I didn’t expect any difference now. “I need my splat gun,” I said breathily, and I walked out into the dark hallway.

Jenks’s wings clattered behind me. “We can’t sneak out, anyway. We’re surrounded.”

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I’d feel better with a little more to back my words up with than a smile and whatever magic I knew by rote. I strode into the kitchen, panic icing through me when a dark shadow swooped forward. Almost falling, I slid into a defensive duck. The ley line iced painfully through me as I recognized the sound of Bis’s wings and drew a surge of power back.

“Bis!” I said, my exclamation barely above a whisper. “Give some warning, huh?” I hadn’t been able to feel Bis’s presence since Newt changed my aura, and I kind of missed it.

“Sorry.” Black teeth catching the light, he landed on top of the fridge and gave Trent a bunny-eared kiss-kiss.

Bis didn’t look sorry, and I glanced over the dark kitchen wondering what I could eat without opening the fridge. The light would tell them we were awake. I plucked at my shirt, wishing I’d taken a shower. I knew I stank of burnt amber, but my nose had gone deaf. Irate, I reached for my coffee, cold and untouched, at the table. “Where’s Belle?” I asked, grimacing at the tepid bitterness. Rex could take care of herself, but I worried about the flightless fairy.

Bis ruffled his wings, red eyes seeming to glow as he glanced out the window. “With Rex. Real professionals. No high heels or noisy phones. They know how to sit still and not move.”

Trent looked up from texting something to Quen, probably. “Your life is never boring, Rachel.”

“I could do with a little boring.” My reach to open the nuker hesitated. It had a light, too. Disgusted, I set the cold cup on the counter and warmed it up with a charm. Ceri had taught me this, and a stab of regret cooled my anger.

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“Nice,” Trent said. He’d seen me do this before, but probably not with such quickness. I was edgy, and I jerked again when Bis landed on my shoulder.

“You want to jump out?” Bis said eagerly. “Let them find an empty church? We need to go soon. The sun is almost up.”

My eyes flicked to Trent. That was why they were waiting. Sunup would put Bis and an easy escape out of reach. I was starting to like robins a lot more.

“We are not abandoning the church,” Jenks said, wings clattering.

Keeping silent and my options open, I scooped up my splat gun and checked the hopper. The charms were not old, but they weren’t new either—and vampires were fast.

“Rache?”

Jenks hovered, waiting for me to agree with him, but all I did was tuck the cherry-red paintball gun at the small of my back. Going to a drawer, I got a couple of extra canisters of CO2 to fire it. Someday I’d figure out a charm to propel them, but until then, it was good having a spell that would work without connection to a ley line.

“Ah, Rache?”

I leaned against the counter and sighed. I didn’t want to flee. Why were they even after us? Cormel couldn’t make me do anything. But then my heart thudded as I thought of Ivy.

“I need to call Ivy,” I said as I pulled my shoulder bag off the table. Damn it, I’d told her she’d be okay. I’d told her there’d be no reprisal. I shouldn’t have filled her head with such do-gooder tripe. I was going to get her killed.

We had about ten minutes until sunrise, and Trent sat casually against the table, ankles crossed and looking calm and even a little ***y. “Bis . . . ,” he drawled, catching my attention. “Can you leave undetected, find a vampire at the outskirts, and jump him here?”

My finger scrolling through my numbers slowed and my eyebrows rose. Jenks began to chuckle. “Oh, I like that,” he said as Bis nodded.

“We have time,” Trent said, his smile shifting to an ugly hardness. “If we can find out who and why, I don’t mind leaving. Especially if we can drop back and hit whoever planned this while their main force is still here.”

My God, the man might be a business tycoon, but his heart was that of a warlord elf.

Jenks’s dust pooling on the center counter turned silver. “Let me find Jumoke. He’ll know who would be easiest to snag.”

I kind of felt bad for whomever Bis was going to snatch. Then I caught a glimpse of movement between the tombstones and the guilt went away.

“Back in a sec.” Bis gave me a poignant look before he took to the air, a draft sending my snarled hair back as he followed Jenks out of the kitchen and presumably into the garden.

We were down to kidnapping, and heart pounding, I texted G2G to tell Ivy to go to ground, then hit her number, wanting to give her more than a text could handle. “I’ve got zip strips in the top drawer there,” I said, phone to my ear. Please pick up. Please.

“I’ve got something better.” Motions holding a hard intent, Trent cleared off the center counter, piling everything on Ivy’s stuff. I knew it would irritate her to no end. My skin tingled as he pulled more heavily on the line, and I hoped they didn’t have a magic user out there with them. They might be able to feel it.

Finally Ivy answered her phone, and I pressed it to my ear. “Ivy, thank God.”

“Rachel? Why are you up so early?” she said, following it immediately with “****, what happened? Is everyone okay?”

Clearly she hadn’t gotten the text yet. She sounded fine, and my eyes closed in relief. I could hear dogs in the background. “We’re okay,” I said, and I heard her say something muted to someone else. Nina, probably. “The church is surrounded. Bis is going to jump us out as soon as we know who it is, so don’t come back. You’re okay, right?”

With a slight shock, I realized I wanted to run. It was something new to me, but perhaps I was only now realizing the fragile nature of life. I wasn’t running away, I was running to find a stronger position. Whoever this was, they weren’t going to get away with it.

“Cormel!” Ivy hissed, her vehemence taking me aback.

“I don’t think so. I’ll let you know who as soon as we find out. Are you being followed?”

“No.” She was distracted, and I wondered what Trent was wanting to do with the overhead rack when he eyed it.

I jerked at the sudden displacement of air, reaching for my splat gun when Bis popped back into the kitchen. His claws were pinching the shoulder of a terrified vampire.

“What the hell?” the young, surprisingly muscled living vampire shouted, eyes pitch black and short fangs sheened with saliva. He took a breath to shout for help.

“Ta na shay, sar novo,” Trent said softly, every word seeming to have edges. My skin crawled, and the aura about his hand glowed a soft silver. I froze when he reached out and the glow vanished from his hand to blossom anew over the vampire—swamping him in a heartbeat. The vampire’s exclamation choked off. He stiffened as the charm soaked in, and he went still.

“Sar novo,” Trent said again, shoving the vampire against the center counter where he slumped, eyes open, breathing, but clearly unable to move voluntarily.

The entire thing had taken maybe three seconds.

“Uh, Ivy, I have to go,” I said, impressed and a little scared. “Please. Don’t trust Nina,” I said, ashamed, and the hum of Jenks’s wings dropped in pitch.

Ivy was silent, then, “Okay,” and the conversation ended with a click.

My eyes were on the terrified vampire as I put my phone in a back pocket. Bis had puffed himself up larger, managing to look menacing next to Trent. Jenks, though, didn’t give a fig about impressing our captive, clearly more upset about abandoning the church as he wiped the soot off his wings. “Rache,” he started, and I rubbed my forehead. It was the right thing to do, hard as it was.

The garden, my kitchen. But to stay and fight might get someone killed when we would be better off dropping back and attacking with more strength later. I was trying to make smarter decisions—I loved Trent, and realizing I’d abandon the church to get him out of this threat was . . . a gut-wrenching shock, both happy and sad.

“This won’t take long.” Trent didn’t sound like himself, and I watched, chilled, as he reached up into the rack, his motions sure and steady, his eyes never leaving the vampire’s. The vampire panted, small noises coming from him as he tried to break through the binding charm. Trent looked awful, showing a part of himself he wasn’t proud of—and being with me had brought it forth again.

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Spoon pressed right under the vampire’s eye, Trent leaned in. Voice hardly audible, he whispered, “Who’s organizing this?”

I felt Trent’s pull on the line lessen, and the vampire wiggled, still caught but able to move now. “You’re dead, Morgan! You lied to us, and your life is forfeit!”

“I didn’t lie!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice. This smacked of torture, even if Trent hadn’t done anything but threaten him with a spoon. A spoon right under his eye.

“Flagro,” Trent intoned, and I stiffened. The tip of the ceramic spoon glowed with heat. Whimpering, the captive focused on it, and the scent of frightened vampire rolled into the air.

Jenks darted close, his irritation obvious. “That won’t work. He’ll make it feel good.”

“Not if I scoop his eyeball out.”

Horrified, I gasped. He had to be kidding. “My God. Trent!”

Ignoring my hand on his arm, Trent blew on the spoon to send the heat over the terrified vampire’s face. I couldn’t believe this was happening, and I gasped right along with the vampire when Trent pressed it to his skin, the word “Caecus” intoned with a terrible certainty.

“Trent, stop!” I shouted as the vampire arched in pain, horrified. Jenks simply hovered, clearly not caring. Seeing me ready to smack Trent, the pixy darted over. “Get a grip, Rache,” Jenks whispered, perched at my ear. “It’s not real.”

My breath exploded out from me, and I hesitated. Sweat trickled down Trent’s face where it had beaded. His grip was white knuckled on the vampire under him, pinned to the center counter with a savage force. There was a small crescent shape of red under the vampire’s eye, hardly worth calling a burn. It was more of a pressure mark. It was all show. Everything.

The terror, though, was real.

“Who!” Trent shouted, the vampire moaning under him. “Why!”

Trent pressed the cooled spoon under his other eye, and the vampire screamed again. Lip between my teeth, I darted a glance at the window. They weren’t going to wait for sunrise if they knew we had one of their own.

“My eye!” the vampire howled, struggles growing violent. “You took out my eye!”

His eye was fine, blind under that last spoken charm, but I didn’t like this side of Trent.

“Tell me, or I’ll take out the other!”

Jenks shivered, his wings making a cool spot on my neck. “Tink’s a Disney whore, Rache. Your new boyfriend is kind of scary when he’s pissed.”

“Tell me,” Trent threatened, pressing into him. “Now!”

“It’s the elves!” the vampire screamed. “The elves.”

My lips parted, and I met Trent’s suddenly ashen gaze as he let up.

“Some elf called Landon. He said you’re lying,” the vampire gushed. “He said you know how to bring back all the undead souls and you lied that it would send them into the sun. He said he’d bring all the undead souls back from the ever-after, but we had to kill you first to keep you from reversing his magic. He said you want us to die without our souls! That you’re a demon!”

“He’s the one lying!” I exclaimed, and Jenks darted out. That scream had probably traveled. “Landon wants to wipe out the masters. He’s the one who put them to sleep last July!”

Trent let go and the man dissolved into a sniveling whimper. I could see Trent’s self-disgust, and I brought his hand to my lips, startling him. He hadn’t hurt the man babbling before us. He’d tricked him, tricked him to save our lives.

“You lie,” the would-be assassin said, his fingers feeling his face. “I saw Felix. He has his soul. He doesn’t hunger. He’s whole.” Fear flashed over him, stark and ugly. “I don’t want to lose my soul. You’re a monster! You took my eye!”

Trent frowned. “Landon betrayed you,” he said, making a decisive ending gesture.

The vampire gasped, hunching into himself as the spell broke. Slowly his hands fell and he looked straight at us, wonder in him. “I can see . . .”

Expression still holding that awful hardness, Trent turned to Bis. “If he moves, claw his eye out for real.”

I knew Bis would never do such a thing, but after seeing Trent bluff his way to a confession, the gargoyle hissed, claws scraping lines in the stainless steel.

“I told you Landon was going to use us,” I said, then softened as I saw Trent shaking. He’d waved off my concern, but I’d known something like this was going to happen. Cincinnati had gone to her knees when the masters had merely fallen asleep. That Landon would try to kill them again wasn’t surprise. The surprise was that I kept thinking he was sane.

Trent splayed his fingers to gauge their shaking. “We’ll be okay. There isn’t a safe way to bring all the souls back,” he said as he made fists of his hands. “Ellasbeth hasn’t called me in over six hours. You told her to call back in four, yes?”

His voice had hardened, and I nodded. He thought Ellasbeth and Landon were working together? Maybe, but Ellasbeth wouldn’t destroy an entire demographic to further herself. Would she? “But you told her if she ever did anything like this again . . .”

My words trailed off. I’d really thought she’d play nice if she had a shot at something normal with the girls. Logic said she was working with Landon, but my gut said different. I’d seen her with the girls. She was Lucy’s mother and loved Ray as if she were her own. She wouldn’t risk them like this. Not now. Not if there was another way.

“Maybe I should tell her killing me won’t give her Lucy,” Trent said.

My shoulders tensed. “Quen gets custody first? That’s a great idea. No one can kill him.”

Trent made an embarrassed sound. Glancing behind me to the cowed vampire, he winced. “Ah, not exactly. I made you Lucy’s legal guardian if I died or was missing for more than six months. If we both go, Al gets her. Ellasbeth probably doesn’t know about that clause.”

Shocked, my head snapped up. “A-Al?” I stammered. “Why not Quen?” But what I really wanted to know was why Al?

Trent was swooping about the kitchen, jamming charms and Ivy’s bottled water into my bag. “Making Quen Lucy’s guardian would make him a target, and I won’t risk Ray. Al being Lucy’s guardian will create a custody battle long enough for Quen to run off with both Lucy and Ray. Besides, if Al has custody, no demon will dare touch her. Or Ray.”

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I dropped back a step as I looked for the logic. It made sense—sort of.

Trent handed me my bag. The sill was empty, and I looked in my bag to see Al’s chrysalis among the rest. Really? “I’m sorry,” Trent said, jaw tight. “We have to go.”

Crap on toast, we were going to leave them the church. I started as Trent took me in a quick embrace, my arms pinned between us as he gave me a squeeze. The vampire was watching, but Bis gouging the counter with his nails kept him unmoving.

“I should have seen this coming,” Trent whispered, his breath making tingles against my neck. He sighed, his grip beginning to loosen. “I thought that by bringing Landon in close, I could out-think him. You were right. Is Ivy okay?”

Jenks darted in, his dust telling me everything I needed to know. They were advancing. “She was when I called,” I said as I reached behind me for my splat gun. The vampire’s eyes widened when I smoothly pulled it out and shot him. He started to rise . . . then fell back, slumping all the way to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Jeez, Rache!” Jenks complained as he rose up and down. “Give a pixy some warning!”

If there hadn’t been umpteen more coming our way, I would’ve shoved the window open to air the place out. Frustrated, I faced Trent. “We need to get the girls. Both Lucy and Ray.”

Trent shook his head. “We need to play dead.”

“Huh? Why?” I said, taking the tablet Trent was handing me and shoving it into my shoulder bag.

Frowning, Trent stepped over the vampire to look out the window. “If we play dead, Landon will have to admit he can’t bring their souls back. Support for him will fall apart. All we have to do is wait.”

“Let the vampires bring Landon down.” And Ellasbeth, I added silently, knowing Trent was upset she’d taken this drastic step. God knew I was disappointed. He must be crushed.

“But the church . . . ,” Jenks said, and Jumoke and Izzy flew in, each of them holding a bundle and looking tragic.

I swallowed hard. If we were going to play dead, something was going to get busted up really bad to sanction it. “It’s just a pile of rock, right?” I said, voice breaking. “Is Rex outside? Belle?”

Jenks nodded, scared. “Belle won’t leave. Rache, we shouldn’t either.”

Trent gestured to Bis, and the gargoyle jumped to my shoulder, his tail wrapping tightly around me to secure his hold. The kid could jump only one at a time on his own, but if I warped everyone’s aura to look the same, we could all go together. Probably. “I’ll try to contain the damage, but if worse comes to worst, Jumoke and Izzyanna can move into my gardens. You, too, Jenks,” he added, and Jenks frowned, a black dust falling in the center of the golden sparkles. “Belle doesn’t have out-of-season newlings to look after,” he added, and Jenks stiffened.

“I’m wherever Ivy and Rache are.”

Trent’s arm slipped around my waist. “I don’t want any of you hibernating. Can you get them there safely, Jenks? We can’t go. It’s the first place they’ll look for us, and I can’t take this to my girls.”

Looking even more disgusted, Jenks nodded again, his expression softening as he saw Izzy holding her tiny middle. “Call me.”

Trent’s expression relaxed, making me love him all the more. “Thank you,” he said, looking over the church as if it was his own. “Have Quen escort Ellasbeth out and close the grounds. He’s to go into hiding if he has to, but Ellasbeth is not to leave with the girls.”

My gut hurt at the thought of damaging the church. It’s just a pile of rocks, I told myself, but it was my pile of rocks.

“It’s going to be fine, Rachel,” Trent said, but the pinch to his brow said differently. “Ellasbeth will be years contesting it in the courts. We’ll be back long before that.” I met his eyes, and he added, “The trick will be to die convincingly without doing too much damage.”

“You think a modified heat charm?” I said, knowing there was a firewall between the old part of the church and the new.

Trent shook his head, his eyes on the vampire at our feet. He took a breath to say something, then froze. His eyes went to the hallway.

Jenks’s wings clattered. Jumoke and Izzy darted out, wings silent. “See you in a few days,” Jenks said as he circled me, his dust falling as if in protection. “Trent, if she dies, I’ll cut your pointy ears off and eat them in front of you.”

I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but Bis had tightened his grip. “Where do you want me to jump you?” he asked, clearly worried and smelling of iron and pigeon.

The tunnels? I thought, but it was too late, and we ducked below the counter at the soft scrape of shoe in the living room. “Go!” I mouthed to Jenks, and he gave me a last disparaging look as he darted out. This was going to be tricky. We had to destroy the back of the church and get out before it took us with it, and do it all so whoever was attacking would think we were caught up in it.

“Victor?” a masculine voice hissed, and I glanced at the vampire, his legs still in view of the hallway. Oh yeah. What about him?

“Now!” Trent shouted, and we stood, my hand reaching for my splat gun.

What in hell am I supposed to do? I wondered, shooting at the vampire in black.

Apparently it was the right thing as the man snarled, showing me his teeth as he rolled in to make room for the rest. The window over the sink exploded inward, and I swung my gun, little puffs of air unnoticed in the howl of attack.

Someone touched me. It wasn’t Trent, and I loosed a blast of energy through my body, sending the vampire screaming in pain to fall backward into two of his buddies.

“That’s right!” I yelled, shooting at them, but they darted back and my spells broke harmlessly against the cupboards. “Run, you little chip-fanged wannabes!”

My heart thundered. Eyes wide, I found Trent. He looked magnificent, magic arching from hand to hand as he blasted anyone who got a foot inside the kitchen. There were six down already, and he took out the two I’d missed even as I watched. Breathless, I smiled as he shouted and blew a hole right through the wall and four more crashed backward into the fireplace. That was okay. Ivy had been talking about opening the two rooms up.

“Trent!” I shouted, realizing Bis was still on my shoulder, his wings open as he kept his balance. “I think we can do this!” I wouldn’t have to leave my church. I wouldn’t have to abandon the only place I’d ever felt was mine.

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His expression was wild. He met my eyes, and something plinked through me. He loves me, I thought, knowing he’d do anything if it would keep me safe, even if that meant letting me do something stupid like try to save my church.

A head poked up behind the smoldering couch, visible past the broken wall. There was a sudden flurry of motion, and five bodies dove out of the open back door. The one remaining slowly stood. Smirking, he dropped something heavy. I watched it fall as if in slow motion.

Trent grabbed me, spinning me down and around. Bis’s wings flapped madly as we hunched into a ball.

The last vampire launched himself at the door, fleeing.

I gasped, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Now, Bis!” Trent shouted, and the world exploded.

The roar of fire washed over us, eating away at the bubble Trent had thrown up.

And then it was gone, the pulse of heat vanishing into the hum of the lines and then evolving into the shush of water on a beach. Bis had jumped us, and I had no idea where we were.

My heart thudded as we slowly stood from our crouch. It was dark, hours before dawn. My feet sank into cool sand. We were on the West Coast? Behind us was the great blackness of the Pacific, before us the extravagant lines of a modern two-story home, wall-to-wall windows facing the beach. The wind lifted through my hair and pulled the heat from the bomb away.

My church, I thought, forcing the lump down. Everyone I loved was safe.

“Ah, where are we, Bis?” Trent said, and I let go of his hand.

Bis shifted his claws, and I winced, not wanting him to know he’d broken skin. “Uh, I hope you don’t mind,” the clever kid said, his wings arching up behind my head in his version of a shrug. “I had to pick somewhere the sun hadn’t come up yet.”

“It’s not Lee’s,” Trent said, and a knot of worry eased as I heard a piano playing the same phrase over and over until something sounded right.

“Alice, what do you think about this?” a familiar voice called out, faint over the surf as the phrase was hammered out again, and I smiled.

“It’s my mom’s,” I said, starting forward, eager and trying not to cry. Bis had taken me home. He’d taken me to my mom.

Chapter 12

I woke for the second time in the same day with a smile on my face. Eyes closed, I stretched a foot down to find Trent’s, feeling his arm over me tighten as I nudged him awake. My mom was cool. The thought of offering us two rooms hadn’t even occurred to her as she fussed and burbled over getting us settled, finding us toothbrushes and me a nightgown. The shower had been heaven, and the cool sheets better than death, as Ivy would have said.

My eyes opened. A deliciously masculine arm was resting on me. Beyond the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, the sun was nearing noon by the slivers of light leaking in past the half-open blinds. Trent, too, was just waking up, having spent some of his morning talking to Takata before slipping in behind me for a couple of hours. Our usual sleep schedules weren’t compatible at all, but that didn’t seem to matter when you were fighting time-zone shifts and an all-nighter.

All I cared about was that I woke up with Trent beside me for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, and it felt . . . right.

Warm and content, I rolled to face him. The silk of my mom’s nightgown was a soft hush, and when Trent pulled me close, I snuggled in, wishing I had more mornings like this.

“Hi,” I said softly, and his eyes opened. They were brilliant green from behind his tousled hair, clear and rested even if his stubble was thick. It made me feel good to see him that close. His thumb traced tingles down my bare arm, and I tilted my head, finding the soft skin under his throat with my lips and giving a gentle pull.

Suddenly he was a lot more awake. The bed shifted as he found my mouth with his, the kiss lighting through me with a shocking pulse. His hand pressed my shoulder, and my fist tightened at the back of his neck. I was suddenly a lot more awake, too.

“Donald?” echoed in the hallway. “Do we have any more strawberries? They’ve got to come out of there eventually. It’s after noon!”

Breathless, I pulled back. Our lips parted with a sharp smack, and I realized his leg had slipped between mine, almost pinning me—not that I minded. His smile was content as we listened to Takata’s rumbling voice answer my mom, and I snuggled into him. I didn’t particularly want to get up, but even as my mom might have bunked us together, she also wouldn’t have any hesitation about knocking on our door.

My pulse slowed. I listened to Trent’s heartbeat, breathing him in and reluctant to move. I liked waking up like this, but was it realistic to even hope it could last? As in a permanent situation? I knew better than to look for a happily ever after. My track record spoke for itself.

“Still can’t see it?” Trent said.

My lips quirked. “How do you do that?” I asked softly, and his hand traced tingles on my shoulder as he slipped the thin strap down.

“It’s inevitable,” he said, as sensation raced from his touch. “We do well together. For example, what do you want to do today?”

My schedule was already full of handling the unknown, but I sat up, willing to play the game. “Oh, I don’t know,” I said, knowing Trent would be recognized anywhere the moment he set foot in public. “Have strawberries for breakfast, lay out on the beach, maybe do some bikini shopping. A little light dinner on a boat. Go to bed before the sun comes up. Wake around noon and do it again.”

Propped up on an elbow, he smiled and tucked my snarled hair behind an ear. His stubble caught the light, and I wanted to feel its roughness. “See what I mean?” he said, the sheet slipping to show a new and very nice angle of him. “That’s exactly what I want to do.”

Smirking, I scooted down and tucked myself next to him. My real list was a lot different: check the news to see if our fake death gamble worked, make a soul bottle for Ivy, dodge uncomfortable questions from my mom.

Suddenly I realized Trent’s hand was moving, ever moving, against me, running behind my ear with a comfortable security, as if he’d been doing it for years. “There’s absolutely nothing I can do,” he said around a sigh, gazing past me to the private beach. “And a hundred things I should.”

He was worried about his girls, but I couldn’t resist letting my fingers drift downward over his chest. His body tensed, and I smiled. “We should play dead more often. This is the nicest morning I’ve had in a long time.”

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“There’s always room for improvement.” Trent’s weight shifted as he leaned over me. His hand made a delicious path of tingles as it slipped up under the hem of the short nightie, settling in a tight grip on my waist. I smiled and reached for him, pulling him down into another kiss.

My eyes closed as I breathed him in. The hint of my mom’s soap made him even more familiar, and my hand made steady progress down his side and thigh before I drifted inward to find him. His breathing changed, and I lingered as his lips left mine, skating down my neck and to my breast.

“Alice, they’re still asleep.” Takata’s voice jerked through me, and Trent jumped.

“They’re three hours ahead of us,” my mom protested. “We’ve got to go, and I’m not going to sneak out of here and leave them a note!”

“So you knock on their door,” Takata grumbled. “Why are you making me do it?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I’ll do it,” she said, and the sound of her steps rang loudly on the tile. “Watch the waffles, will you? They need to get up.”

Trent looked down at me, his interrupted passion shifting to amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I am up. They need to go away.”

“Sorry,” I said with an apologetic wince, and he rolled to sit up, settling himself beside me with the blankets pulled across his lap.

“Good morning, Ms. Morgan!” Trent said loudly as he stared at the ceiling, and I gave him a backhanded smack.

“See, they’re awake,” I heard her admonish Takata. “Go check the waffles.”

She barely knocked before pushing the door open, and I yanked the blanket up as she peeked in, bringing the scent of maple syrup and cooked batter with her. “Good morning!” she called happily, her hair pulled back and looking more like my sister than my mom in casual jeans and a classy sweater. “Breakfast is ready. You can eat it while it’s hot or let it get cold, but I didn’t want to leave without at least saying good morning.”

“You’re leaving?” I said, grabbing the blanket when Trent threatened to drag it off me.

My mom bustled forward, heels clicking as she went to open the blinds all the way. Sunshine poured in, and my eyes hurt. “We’re catching a flight out this afternoon. Big day today!” She turned, beaming at us. “Damn, you look good together. Rachel, if you screw this up, I’m going to be pissed. Trent has—”

“Mom!” I shouted, and she blinked, turning a slight shade of red. Trent wasn’t helping, and I gave him a pinch to keep quiet when he opened his mouth, presumably to ask what she thought he might have that I might be interested in.

“Sorry,” she said, surprising me. “I just wanted to see you before we left.”

“Where are you going?” I asked again. “I’ve got some spelling to do, and I thought you might be able to help. With the shopping if nothing else.”

“A-A-A-Alice?” Takata shouted. “Where’s the cinnamon?”

Her eyes lit up, and then she frowned, clearly torn. “Oh, I can’t, sweetheart,” she said as she scooped up my jeans from the floor and folded them. “Donald and I have a flight to Cincy in a few hours. I’ve got your funeral to plan.”

“It worked!” Trent exclaimed, and I smiled as my mom’s eyes glowed in anticipation.

“This is going to be fantastic!” she gushed as she fiddled with the fringe on the seventies lamp they had stuck in here. “If I can’t plan your wedding, I can at least arrange your funeral. Donald has a song and everything. You’re going to love it!”

Oh God, she was going to do the eulogy. “Ah, Mom?”

“Get yourself up,” she said as she backed out of the room. “We leave in ten.”

The door clicked shut, and I thumped my head back. I’d never be able to leave my church again. If I had a church to go back to.

Trent threw the covers back and swung his feet to the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as he stood, every yummy inch of him catching the light from the beach. “Your mom is . . .”

“Is what?” I looked at the slowly rising spot in the bed where he’d been and sighed. Just twenty minutes more. Was that too much to ask?

“Fun,” he said, stretching.

“Uh-huh.” I sat up and wrangled my hair back into a scrunchy. “Picture fun on prom night or a PTA meeting. My mom was an active parent.”

Head down, I scuffed past Trent toward the attached bathroom. I’d told Ivy we were bugging out, and I hadn’t called her since, not wanting to blow our story of being dead. But now, after a handful of hours, I probably should tell her we were okay. Even the six hours it would take for my mom to get there was too long to have her worry.

I gasped when Trent snagged me, pulling me, bouncing, back onto the bed. My breath came in fast as his weight pinned me, and I gazed up at him, feeling desired as the entire length of his body pressed into me. “I like you in the morning the best,” he said, eyes on my hair as he tucked it away from my face.

I’d give just about anything to have this forever, and I smiled up at him, liking him the best when he was relaxed and happy, stubble and all. “Maybe we should just keep playing dead.”

Silent, his worry slid back behind his eyes. “I’m sorry you saw that yesterday.”

“Saw what?” My fingers played with the rims of his ears. I knew what he was talking about, but sometimes it was better to pretend.

Propped up on his elbow, he took my fingers in his and kissed them. “With the vampire.”

My breath came in fast, and I tilted my head, trying to catch his eyes with mine. “It wasn’t anything I didn’t know was there.”

“It . . . I promised myself—”

“Trent.” I pulled him to me, finding his lips with mine, feeling a thrill coil down through me and rebound against his own desires. Slowly I eased back into the pillow, but his eyes were just as worried, just as furtive. “I know who you are. And I love you.”

His eyes darted to mine, and the first hints of a smile eased his worry. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, sitting up and pulling me into a heartfelt embrace. “I love you, too,” he whispered, his warmth tingling between us as he held me close.

“Waffles are out!” came faintly through the walls.

My throat was tight. I gave him a final squeeze and his arms eased their grip. I wanted this to last, but even now I knew better than to hope. Trent gallantly held my robe out for me to shrug into, tying it with a suggestive firmness before finding his own robe. Disheveled and feeling odd, I followed him out of our tiny space and into the world again, my hand loosely in his as if I was afraid that if I let go, I’d lose him right then.

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I’d gotten the full tour last night, or this morning rather, but seeing Takata’s home in the daylight only accentuated the clean lines, spacious rooms, and sparse but comfortable furnishings. It didn’t look much like my mom’s old house, but my mom didn’t look much like herself either. She was wearing trendier clothes and had a far more relaxed smile. Losing the emotional baggage in Cincinnati suited her.

The kitchen was bigger than mine, with rich wood and gleaming metals. It opened up to a lower living room, three sides of which were glass looking out onto what had to be a private beach since I hadn’t seen anyone on it yet. The ceilings were high, and the second story where the bedrooms were overlooked it. A piano took up one bright corner, and a small library the other. Between them, a TV was turned to the news, and as we entered, Takata muted it from behind the kitchen counter.

Takata smiled as he took off his apron, still shy over my finding out he was my birth father. Most of his more famous songs had their inspiration in what he’d lost by giving me and my brother to his best friend and the only woman he’d ever loved. Now my father was dead, and though my mother missed him, it was good to see her in love again.

“Morning,” he said, pointing to the eat-at bar and two place settings.

“Thanks, Donald,” I said as I slid up onto the seat, feeling both welcome and awkward. My mom was out of the room, and I leaned in across the bar. “Hey, try to keep her from making my funeral into a circus, okay?”

Trent snorted, turning it into a cough as he took the chair beside me. The waffles steamed, but he reached for the coffee instead. Takata smiled, his big teeth and wide lips almost a shock as I saw myself mirrored in him. “I’ll try, but you know how she gets.”

I sighed, my wandering gaze finding three bags and Takata’s guitar sitting next to the door. “Enthusiastic,” I muttered, then blinked when Trent took his fingertip out of his mouth, smiled, and poured a dollop of syrup into his coffee. Must be the real stuff.

“You get your drive from her,” Takata said, and I met his eyes when he reached across the counter and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly, not sure if it was enthusiasm or desperation that kept me going. I usually didn’t put syrup on my waffles, but seeing Trent enjoying himself, I dribbled some on, needing to shove my robe sleeves back out of the way as I cut dough into pieces.

Takata hustled to take Mom’s bag, and from the corner of my eye I saw the front of Trent’s main building on the TV. The banner, KALAMACK PIE SLICING UP SOUR, ran below it before it went to commercial. It was official, then. We were dead.

I took a bite of waffle, leaning forward as the syrup dripped. If this was dead, then sign me up.

“About time you got out of bed, sweetheart!” my mom called cheerfully, then gave Takata’s orange pants and striped shirt a disparaging look. A pang went through me as I saw the little clues we learned as children telling us that our mother was leaving to do grown-up stuff: her hair was brushed into a professional topknot, her heels clicked smartly on the tile, there was a blush of heavier makeup, and her jewelry was just shy of extravagant. Her expression was eager and her motions deliberate. I knew when I gave her a hug good-bye that she’d smell of her favorite perfume. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry.

“What are your plans for today?” my mom said as she fixed her scarf, not oblivious to my mood but ignoring it like always. “Use the house as if it’s yours,” she said before I could even frame an answer. “There’s a boat at the club, and the sweetest row of shops in town.”

“Ah, I need to do some spelling,” I said, giving Trent a thankful glance when he gave my fingers a supportive squeeze under the bar.

“Mmmm.” My mom paused, then strode forward to take a key from a rack behind the pantry door. “I’ve got a studio upstairs. It’s nice and sunny up there. Help yourself.”

I took the smooth, small key thinking it looked like it would open a file cabinet, not a door. “You keep it locked?” I asked hesitantly, remembering my mom liked to experiment. She was quite good, and I’d been told on more than one occasion that if it hadn’t been for Robbie and me, she could have been one of Ohio’s premier spell spinners, the elite few who have the knack of creating new spells by modifying existing ones.

“Just the expensive stuff.” My mom’s eyes were on Takata as he came back in, this time wearing something a little more subdued but still clearly “retired rock star” with metallic socks and red shoes. “Thank you, dear,” she said as she adjusted his wide collar, then turned to me. “Ah, ignore what’s under the sink, okay? I’ve been meaning to take care of it.”

“Sure . . .” I tucked the key in the robe’s pocket, exchanging a questioning look with Trent before I spun on the stool to watch her getting ready to leave. My plate was on my lap, and I picked at a piece of waffle. “I’m working on something for Ivy. God knows when I’ll have another day off again from saving the world.”

I had meant it to be sarcastic, but my mom nodded, totally serious. A car had pulled up outside, and Takata headed for the bags. “Use what you need,” my mom said as she checked inside her purse. “That woman needs a little goodness in her life. If you can’t find what you want, I’ve got an account in town at Jack’s Imagineering.” She looked up, breathless and alive, and I set my plate down and went to give her a hug.

“You’re the best, Mom,” I said as my arms went around her, and I was a little girl again, watching her leave for a job interview or rare overnight trip. “Thank you.”

She blinked fast, eyes bright as she pulled away. “Just looking after my little girl. Gotta go! See you later, sweetheart. Enjoy! Don’t show up until after the funeral, okay? Oh, and I’ll tell Robbie. Don’t worry about it. He’s going to be pissed.” She hesitated. “That you played dead, not that you’re really alive.”

Good to have that clarified. I glanced at Takata. He was laughing. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Trent stumbled as my mom jerked him into a loud, noisy hug, and I edged sideways over to Takata. I’d hugged him only a couple of times, and he still felt tall and awkward to me, his arms holding me with a hesitant firmness before he rocked back, face having a touch of sadness for opportunities lost even as he stood in my life again. “You’re doing good.”

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“So are you,” I said, meaning it. “She’s happy, and I’d love you for that if nothing else.”

Head down, he smiled as he looked at my hands in his. “Don’t wait too long to come out of the woods,” he said, his gaze coming back to mine with a wise wariness. “Too many people depend on you to stand between them and the rest.”

I knew what he was saying, and I nodded even as Trent reached between us and shook his hand. The two of them exchanged words that really didn’t matter apart from the meaning behind them. It was weird and sort of uncomfortable as Trent and I stood in white robes and with sticky fingers in an extravagant house that wasn’t ours and watched my parents leave.

The car drove slowly through the winding curves until it was lost behind skinny evergreens and boulders the size of my car. The silence of the house soaked in, and I heard the wash of the water for the first time. No one knew we were here except for Bis, and he was sleeping. It felt like Sunday, but no Sunday I’d ever had.

“Well?” I said as I turned, startled at the figure Trent cut before me. I saw him so rarely with such a thick stubble. He had the remote in his hand, and I wasn’t surprised when he pointed it across the huge room and unmuted the TV. It was showing a mix of familiar and unfamiliar reporters in front of Trent’s gatehouse. The big names were there this time along with the local, and I frowned. Even the Washington Inderland Press.

“. . . the continuing investigation into Kalamack’s supposed death,” the woman was saying, and I followed Trent back to the sunken living room and the cushy white couches. I recognized some of Trent’s security people, and I felt bad for their stricken expressions.

“Longtime associate Rachel Morgan has been called into question as the I.S.’s main suspect, despite claims that she perished along with Kalamack during an organized vampire hit.”

“What!” I exclaimed, bouncing back up before my butt had even hit the cushions. “Me?”

Trent shushed me, upping the volume.

“But until a body can be found, or Rachel Morgan herself, this theory will remain a wishful thought by I.S. personnel.”

My breath puffed out. The press knew it was bunk and that was half the battle.

“Oh, Rachel. I’m sorry,” Trent whispered, and my head jerked up, my stomach clenching at the image of the church now on the TV. It had been taken from across the backyard and it showed the entire back end burnt and black. The original stone of the church was covered in soot. Ivy’s grill still stood sadly under the big tree beside the picnic table.

“I think the original structure is okay,” he said, and I realized he’d taken my hand and I was sliding into him as our weight pushed on the cushions. “I’m so sorry. You know we’ll rebuild it. Before the first snowfall.”

No one was in there, I thought, eyes closing as I remembered my spell books. Those would be hard to replace. And the picture of Jenks and me in front of the Mackinac Bridge. All my ley line stuff. Everything that Trent hadn’t stuffed into my shoulder bag—gone.

“I’m okay,” I said, though I felt like throwing up. At least I hadn’t done it. It had been someone else. Landon . . .

“Though the I.S. denies allegations that Morgan and Kalamack were the victims of backroom deals and assassination, it’s interesting to note that the deaths of Morgan and Kalamack fall closely alongside the elven dewar coming forth with a magical-based method to restore souls to the undead, something Morgan and Kalamack publicly touted as dangerous.”

“We did?” Surprised, I glanced at Trent. He was flushing, his lips pressed in irritation.

“I issued a statement,” he said, eyes riveted to the TV. “Your name came up, but I never said anything about you agreeing or disagreeing.”

I was used to the press getting things wrong, either through carelessness or intentional bashing, and I turned back to the TV. A frown pinched my brow at Landon being interviewed before the FIB building. The banner ELF HIGH PRIEST, SA’HAN, LANDON ALEXANDER scrolled under it. The sky was bright and his hair was shifting wildly under that funny ceremonial hat. The sun in his face made him look older. My eyes narrowed. Now that I thought about it, that hat of his looked a lot like one that Newt favored. “Son of a bastard,” I muttered, and Trent grimaced, trying to hear.

“The newly evolving elven community is pleased to offer a way for a long-suffering demographic to find peace and wholeness.”

“Bull!” I shouted, and Trent pointed the remote again, upping the volume.

“I’m personally delighted that with a collective show of union and direction we can help another species find a permanent, healthy balance that we’ve only recently found ourselves, in great part due to Kalamack’s efforts.”

I tensed. “Did he just say the vampires killed us because we stabilized the elf population, and that he’s trying to make up for us shifting the vampires down a rung on the power ladder?”

Trent nodded, his elbows on his knees, making his robe fall open. “Be careful, Landon.”

Again I was reminded of David’s threat, and I stifled a shiver. Landon had the backing of the dewar and enclave, but Trent . . . Trent had practice at doing the ugly thing.

The reporter had taken the center of the screen again, clearly wrapping up. “The sudden disappearance and probable death of Kalamack has left lawyers from many fronts scrambling for control of Kalamack’s continually dwindling assets, a prospect that promises to be tied up in the courts for years as obscure contracts and entitlements suddenly emerge.”

The rims of Trent’s pointy ears turned red. “But ask for their silence, and you have to buy it. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

I glanced at him, knowing he loved the power plays, the intrigue. “Meanwhile,” the announcer said as the TV went back to a shot of the newsroom, “daughter Lucy Kalamack will remain in the care of Ellasbeth Withon at the Kalamack estate.”

“What!” we both shouted, and Trent reached for his phone, his hand slapping into his robe instead.

“Ellasbeth Withon has been fighting for legal custody of Lucy for nearly a year, since Kalamack secured custody of the then three-month-old. Ms. Withon is also a person of interest in Kalamack and Morgan’s disappearance.”

“She has the girls,” Trent rushed, and I felt his fear slip through him, turning him tense.

“Trent, breathe,” I said, pulling him back down when he tried to stand. “Look at me. It’s okay.” Panic rimmed his eyes as they finally met mine. “It sounds as if they haven’t left the compound,” I said, scrambling to keep him thinking, not reacting. He was safer to be around when he was thinking. “It might not even be true. Quen might have Ellasbeth locked in a closet for safekeeping and just be feeding that tripe to the press to explain why she’s there.”

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“Ellasbeth Withon had this to say when she invited us onto the grounds,” the newscaster said, and we both turned to the TV, our hands joined.

“Or maybe not,” I breathed as I saw Ellasbeth sitting in the greenhouse, Lucy eating a cookie on her lap and Ray patting the table and the sparkle of pixy dust there. “I will not believe that Trenton is dead,” she said, her chin raised and her professional speaking skills making her seem just scared enough and deserving of sympathy. “He was with Morgan at the time of the fire, and if anyone can keep him alive, she can. Until he comes back, I will keep our girls safe.”

She was looking right at the camera, and I shivered. She was talking to Trent.

Trent was as pale as his robe, and he sat back, almost vanishing into the cushions. I knew he wanted to call Quen. It might destroy the illusion that we were dead. We’d never be able to flush Landon out. We had to wait.

“Maybe she had nothing to do with it,” I suggested, remembering her silence when I told her not to call back for at least four hours. She hadn’t called back at all. Had she been trying to give him the room I told her he needed, or had she been trying to keep him asleep until the sun rose and we couldn’t jump out?

Trent silently fumed, and I gave his hand a squeeze. “You don’t know she’s working with Landon,” I said, and his eyes finally came back to me.

“No, but she can play it very cool,” he said. “She won’t move until she’s sure we’re dead or her lawyers have a way to take Lucy.”

I remembered Jenks telling me how Ellasbeth had tried to kill Trent when he had abducted Lucy. Part of me was outraged, but another part knew I’d do anything to stop someone from breaking into my house to steal my child, too. Stopping is different from killing . . .

People change, I mused, still wanting to believe Ellasbeth wasn’t involved. “Maybe we should have left little pieces of our DNA on the ceiling.”

“There was no time.” Trent’s response was so fast I knew he’d been thinking about it, too.

The TV was back to commercials. “I was kidding,” I said. “At least she can’t take Ray.”

The mention of his adopted daughter seemed to bring him back, and Trent worked himself out of the cushions. “Quen would kill her if she tried,” he said, clearly uncomfortable. He stood, turning the TV off and frowning at the newly black screen.

Sighing, I wiggled my way to the front of the couch and managed to get up. My God, the thing was a comfort trap. “Come on,” I said as I took his hand and tried to lead him away.

“What? Where?” he demanded, following obediently.

I shrugged as I looked over my shoulder at him. “We can’t do anything, and playing dead was the entire point. Let’s go look at my mom’s studio.”

His fingers slipped from mine, and he set the remote down, reluctantly turning from the TV. “They aren’t even at the airport yet, and you’re in her spelling cabinet?”

Somehow I found a smile. “You never poked around in your mom’s spelling cabinet when she was gone?”

My heart seemed to melt when Trent smiled. It was laced with worry, distracted, but it was real, and it meant a lot. I knew how hard it was to want to fix something and have to wait.

“I stole all my best revenge spells from my mom when I was in junior high,” I said as I hiked up my robe and took the carpeted stairs. “I swear, I think she left some of them out for me to find. Like the one that gave you zits or made your voice break?”

“Clever.”

“And hard to trace since hormones were already jumping around,” I said, hesitating when we reached the top step. It was a huge, open corridor, windows letting in the light and the sound of surf. My mom was cool, and she believed in plausible deniability as a way to find justice in the dog-eat-dog world of teen angst.

Trent eased to a halt beside me. “Which way?”

I felt a light pull to the right. I couldn’t even tell you what it was. The scent of ozone, maybe? The faint vibration of an uninvoked circle? “Here,” I said, following my nose past open windows all the way to the end of the hall. The sound of surf became louder, and quite unexpectedly the outer side of the hallway opened up to a sun-drenched corner room.

“Wow,” Trent said as we slowly crossed from the carpeted hallway back onto tile, the floor a beautiful mosaic of white, black, and teal laid out in spirals and circles. It would be my favorite room just for that, but it got better. Several benches, each having an overhead rack or fume hood, gave it the look of a lab. There were several built-in burners, a waste zone, and one corner devoted to live plants. One tinted-glass cabinet against the interior wall held herbs, and another books. I assumed the ley line stuff was in cupboards. An open, ultramodern-looking hearth took up a corner. From the hook hanging down from the high ceiling it was functional, but I think Takata used it as a place to sit more than my mom to stir spells at by the number of magazines piled up beside the pair of comfortable chairs between it and the wall. There was an empty coffee cup on the table between them, and a sheet of music half hidden under the rug.

“This is fantastic,” I said, fingers running enviously over the magnetic chalk-ready slate counters as a smile of delight eased the tension from my forehead. I could tell there were no electrical lines, no pipes, no phone, no TV, nothing to break a circle. It was a fortress by way of lack, like an island.

“So, you think you can work here?” Trent said, beaming at my awe.

I nodded, eyes on the open notebooks with works in progress carefully detailed in my mom’s handwriting. She was spelling again, and it made me feel good. “Absolutely.”

Trent went to the spelling library, his fingers running over the spines with the fondness he reserved for the horses in his stable. “Rachel, your mom has been sandbagging. She has a fabulous collection.”

I fingered the key in my robe pocket, knowing that anything I could ever want would be here. Trent knew the charm, and I could tweak it so Ivy could invoke it as needed. The rest would fall into place. Finally something was going our way.

“It’s going to take some trial and error, though,” Trent said, surprising me anew with his stubble and disheveled appearance.

Smiling, I leaned against the counter, hardly able to wait to get started. It was a beautiful room, a pleasure to work in. “Maybe we should get dressed first if we want to save the world.”

Trent’s grin was wide as he came back, tugging me to him. “And a shave, maybe. Sounds good to me. I love watching you work.”