Chapter Thirty-Two
Trent's long black car pulled up to the curb, a soft hush in the dark. In an instant, Ivy was reaching for the handle. The front passenger's door opened, and she was standing in the street, her eyes on the church's steeple. Looking back in, she glanced first at Quen, then at Trent, sitting in the back with me and Bis, Lucy in her car seat between us.
"Thanks for the ride, Trent. Quen," she said, her voice low but sincere. And then she was gone, boot heels clicking on the night-cooled pavement, visibly shaking off being too far from home for too long. Vampires truly were the homebodies of Inderland society, and it had been hard on her in ways I could never imagine. That Trent had chartered a specially designed, low-flying jet to get us home in hours, not days, had been a godsend.
"Tell your pilot his pressure control still sucks," Jenks said through the open window in parting, and then darted to join Ivy. Giving me a toothy grin, Bis hopped to the open sunroof, and launched himself after them and into the dark.
I held a hand to my head to keep my hair from flying around in the draft from his wings, and Lucy frowned in her sleep, her hand flashing out as if she was falling. Together, Jenks, Ivy, and Bis ascended the stairs in the dark, pulling the heavy oak doors open to let out a flood of light and pixies. I glanced at the headache-inducing cloud of silk and gossamer, then settled back in the soft leather, reluctant to get out-even as glad as I was to get home.
A flash of liquid light turned into Jenks darting to the steeple as he checked in with the pixy on sentry duty. I heard a sharp wing chirp and a high-pitched harangue start. Jenks wasn't happy about something. More reason to just sit for a moment.
With the sound of clicking metal, Quen undid his seat belt and got out. There were kids shouting somewhere in the next street over, and the revving of a car engine. The trunk whined open, and I shifted my new shoulder bag onto my lap. I didn't know what had happened to my old one. My phone was gone, but at least Vivian had given me my scrying mirror-for what it was worth. "Thanks for the ride home," I said to Trent softly, so as not to wake Lucy. "Don't mind Jenks. The pressure was fine."
Smiling, Trent tucked a blanket with the Disney logo under Lucy's chin. She squirmed, but didn't wake. "It was my pleasure. The honey seemed to do the trick."
"Yup." Ivy was yelling at Jenks, who had dropped back down into the church by the sound of it-something about leaving his kids alone and that they'd done okay. Angels and ass seemed to figure into the conversation. Sighing, I looked at the light spilling from the church. I was tired, and getting out of the car only meant more work.
"I know I've said it before, but thank you. For Lucy," Trent said.
I turned to Trent, then smiled at her, pouting in her sleep. My gaze flicked back to him, and I studied his love for her, honest and irrefutable on his face. He was different, less confident, softer. Or maybe I was just seeing him that way. "She's beautiful," I said, readjusting her blanket.
The thumps from the trunk were obvious, and I reached for the door.
"Ceri is due any day now," Trent said, and I wondered if he was trying to get me to stay a moment longer. "But with Lucy there first, Ceri's baby will be the second born."
I slumped back, curious. "Lucy is the ranking elf of the next generation? Not Ceri's baby?"
His new softness vanished, and he eyed me steadily. "I meant it when I said you'd have a say in it."
Tugging my new jacket closer, I tried to make light of it. "You mean, like I have to babysit or something?"
"I was thinking more like godmother."
My nervous mirth changed to alarm. Oh jeez, a demonic godmother. Feeling ill, I glanced at him. "Okay. Yes. I'd like that. Thank you. It's an honor," I said, not sure this was a good idea but gratified nevertheless. I had Trent's trust, and it was apparently an all-or-nothing affair. And I guess...he had mine.
I jumped when my door opened, Quen standing ready with my two suitcases and garment bag at the curb. They had canceled my brother's wedding since my mom had been stuck in jail while San Francisco rocked and rolled. Robbie was never going to forgive me, and I wasn't invited to the new wedding next month.
Giving Trent a last smile and Lucy a fond touch on her toes, I got out. Quen helped me arrange one suitcase over my shoulder and handed me my garment bag, never unzipped the entire trip. "Thanks, Quen," I said when his pockmarked, weathered face curled up in a smile. "Tell Ceri I said hi." Leaning in, I whispered, "And sorry about the ranking elf-baby thing."
He laughed, making the dark street seem comforting. "She doesn't care," he said. "The two of them are to be raised as sisters, though they don't share a drop of common blood." Hesitating, he looked to the church's open door as a stream of noise flowed out. "Would you like some help getting this in?"
Thinking Trent had to be anxious to get home, I shook my head. "I got it. Thanks." Leaning down, I grinned at Trent through the window, surprised he'd shifted seats and was now in mine. "Thanks for everything." I raised a hand, the circle of charmed silver catching the light. "You're, uh, a lifesaver."
Oh God. I'd said it. And what's more, I think I meant it.
Trent flushed in the dim light of the car's interior. "Thank you. I appreciate that." Then, as if he'd been waiting for the apology, he reached into an inner coat pocket and extended an envelope.
I looked at it suspiciously, shifting the weight of my small carry-on. "What is it?"
"If you don't want it-" he said, and I snatched it. Sometimes Trent's envelopes had money in them. "It's from the Withons," he said as I tore it open and saw a check. A nice check. Six months' worth of check. Damn, it would pay for a new car to replace the one I'd cracked up on the bridge and then some.
"It's restitution for the trouble they put you through," Trent said, bringing my attention up to see him smiling in a rather devious way, and I tucked the money in my back pocket. This would help a lot. Not to mention that it would be the only monetary recompense I was likely going to get for ridding San Francisco of Ku'Sox. 'Course, the demon had destroyed a huge chunk of the Tenderloin, but that area could use a little sprucing up.
"Did you make them do this?" I asked, wincing at the shrill pixy harangue filtering out. Ahhhh, it's good to be home.
Trent's expression went from sly to gratified. "You did good," he said, fingers resting gently on Lucy. "Have you given any more thought-"
"What, you still want me to work for you? I'm pretty much useless," I said, feeling the charmed silver heavy on my wrist.
"That?" Trent said, his eyes flicking to the braided bit of charmed silver. "I told you it was a choice. Just say the word, and I'll tell you the charm to break it. We can talk at Lucy's birthday party. You like clowns?"
My mouth dropped open, and Quen edged away from me. "You are not subjecting that sweet little girl to clowns!" I exclaimed.
Chuckling, Trent settled back in the car. "Take care, Rachel," he said as the window started to go up. "Don't be afraid to call me. We can teach Lucy how to ride."
Riding. Right. "You take care, too...Trent," I said, not knowing if it felt odder saying it or meaning it. The last ten days had been educational. The man was clever, intelligent, and utterly lacking in someone he could just...talk to. He was never himself, even with Ceri. It had to be a lonely way to live.
But it wasn't my problem, and I gave Quen a small wave and turned to the church. I didn't wait for them to leave, just picked up my suitcases and headed for the stairs. Jenks met me halfway up. "Fairies!" he shrilled. "In the garden!"
"Now?" I stammered, heart pounding.
"Yes! I mean, no!" he shouted, flying backward as I hesitated on the steps. "They attacked two days ago!"
"Is everyone okay?" I asked, my gaze going to the steeple, seeing Bis there now, the glint of his red eyes and his relaxed posture telling me everything was fine.
Trent's window rolled down, and leaning out, he asked, "Is there a problem?"
Concerned, I said, "Jenks says we were attacked two days ago."
Quen paused with his hand on the door, exchanging a look with Trent. Was the coven still at it? They'd pardoned me, and even though they were mad at Trent for having released Ku'Sox, they weren't going to do anything about it lest Trent retaliate with something worse.
"I was eating Tink-blasted cotton candy while fairies were attacking my children!" Jenks said, dripping a red dust.
A faint smile touched Quen's face, and giving me a nod, he got in the car. Trent, though, was still leaning out the window. "Perhaps Quen should look over your security before we go," he said, then ducked back into the car.
Quen met my startled gaze, sitting behind the wheel but with the door still open. "Sa'han?"
Jenks was a bright ball of irritation. "My security is fine," he snarled.
But Trent was talking to Quen over the seat. "It wouldn't hurt to look around," I heard him say faintly. "I'll come in in a minute. Lucy needs attention."
He wants to come in? But Quen was getting out of the car, his body language not confused but perhaps...indulgent, and it wouldn't hurt to have Quen look under my bed. "Okay. Sure. I don't care," I said, and Jenks rose up, appalled.
"Rache!" he shrilled.
"We've been gone for almost two weeks," I said as I started up the steps again. "What can it hurt?" But what I was thinking was, What does Trent want?
Quen's door thumped shut, and I waited on the threshold for him, yanking the door shut behind us and dropping the suitcase in the dark foyer. Ivy was casually standing at the pool table sorting almost two weeks' worth of mail, and I relaxed. Something felt like it was missing, though. Pierce.
"We are all fine," Jenks was saying as I breathed in the scent of Quen, seeming all the stronger for the foyer being dark. "We don't need your help."