Chapter 10

Chapter

10

I stepped from the line, little drifts of energy pulling from me to fall back into the humming energy stream in a delicious sensation of loss and promise to return. Jenks lifted from my shoulder in a burst of mystic-enhanced dust, wings humming as he darted into the ever-after darkness to do a quick recon. The shadows were thicker in this reality, the sun having been lost behind a distant cloud bank and a thicket of old-growth trees. I pulled the clean air in deep, glancing at Trent as he made sure we still had everything. The adrenaline rush of escaping Laker was like a roller-coaster ride—all thrill, no real danger—and I relished it even as I knew I shouldn't discount the wizard. I wouldn't say we were lucky, but if he had been, things might have gone differently.

Trent tucked the basket over his arm. "Laker knows every time I put a toe into reality. It has to be a spell."

His voice rippled over me, the low, almost musical tones going perfectly with the sound of late crickets and the wind in the trees. "Probably." I unfocused my attention and brought up my second sight, seeing Laker like a ghost among the outlines of buildings and shop fronts as he stomped away, phone to his ear. "You, ah, want to go back?" I asked, my thought hesitating when I eyed Trent. His aura, usually a brilliant gold with flairs of red, was showing more than a hint of smut. Now that I thought about it, there had been a whisper of black on his thrown spells, too. "Ah, I wouldn't suggest my car," I added as I dropped my second sight and his aura seemed to vanish. "But we could call a cab." What have you been doing, my love? I mused, worried. A smutty aura wouldn't get you in Alcatraz, but it would gain the interest of the coven, and that was often the same thing.

Oblivious to my thoughts, Trent shook his head. "I need to find out how he's tracking me," he said, red plastic basket in hand. "Until I do, I should probably limit my excursions to reality. I'll walk you home, though. On this side of the lines."

The rasp of Jenks's wings sounded as the pixy dropped to my shoulder. "That wizard should take the hint. Everyone else has."

The pixy's wings pressed against my neck and I stifled a shiver. It was warmer over here, but not by much. "I think he's trying to establish a name for himself. There are easier ways than this to make a living." I peered through the trees for any sign of the mountains with which to orient myself. "Walk me home, huh? Good. I have no idea where we are."

"I do." Trent followed my gaze, then turned. "Church is that way." He pushed into motion, his hand finding mine with a comforting sureness. "Unless you're still up for dinner?"

"At the estate?" Jenks said brightly as he snuggled in between my neck and my collar. "Count me in. I haven't seen my grand-younglings in months. I bet they're flying by now."

Trent's hold on me tightened as he wove between the trees, awkward at first, then easing into his elven grace, which slipped like smoke through the trees, finding the easier path. "Sorry, Jenks. I'm talking soup over a fire here in the ever-after."

I stifled a quiver as a tingling energy slipped from him to me, our balances equalizing. He smelled wonderful after all that magic. Like cinnamon and wine. "Soup sounds great," I said, and he flashed me a smile, part relief, part eager anticipation. I knew he had been in and out of his estate since his buddy Saladan had implicated him in illegal genetic research, but I hadn't had an opportunity to check out his new digs at Al's grove in the ever-after yet.

"Where you been, cookie man?" Jenks asked. "You sure as Tink's a Disney whore aren't in the garden, are you? I already gots a demon in there."

Trent's grin became mischievous. "No. I'm at Al's old place. Good water there."

Good water? Perhaps, but I thought it more likely that he had set up there to tap Al as a convenient babysitter and possibly buffer against the other demons. Al had since moved to the line in my backyard to avoid looking as if he liked Trent's two little girls. But he did. Al would die for them.

"Good water?" Jenks blurted. "You have a ley line running right through your estate as a foolproof escape tunnel. You could be eating someone else's cooking and taking hot showers, and you're eating out of a box, sleeping on the ground, and washing your boy bits in a cold stream? In November?"

"Jenks…" I cautioned, but Trent was smiling as he stepped over a fallen tree before extending a hand to help me cross.

"The girls and I do okay." Trent hesitated, his gaze distant for a moment as he placed himself. "Besides, the estate is empty except for the stables and a small maintenance crew for the gardens. It's funny. I used to stay months at the estate before feeling the need to go out. Now I can hardly stand being there."

Our way suddenly opened up onto a worn path, and I leaned my head on his shoulder, our pace easing as the night thickened about us. "True," I said softly. "But you had a full staff and lots going on then."

A small noise of agreement escaped him, and I flushed. "Sorry," I added, and he let go of my hand to slide his arm around my back and tug me closer as the path evened out. His father had died early, leaving Trent a legacy of illegal genetic tinkering needed to maintain his entire species. Now that the elves weren't in imminent danger of becoming extinct, he'd been free to find out who he wanted to be. It hadn't left him searching as much as one might think.

His mother had been rather wicked, I was finding out, and Trent had changed in the last few years, evolving in real time in front of me into something far more dangerous than his dad had ever been, playing with illicit magic the way he had once played with illegal genetic techniques. Society frowned on both of them. One they might forgive, but both?

But I had to admit his new dexterity with elf magic left him smelling delicious and pegged all my meters.

"It's okay," he said, voice intent as his breath shifted my hair. "I enjoy it here. Stop looking at me as if it's your fault. I'm the one with the genetic labs, not you."

But Lee never would have targeted him if it hadn't been for me. The witch had made a play for Cincinnati, going through my friends to get to me. Everyone else rode the wave to the shore, but Trent…His past had swamped him, and now he was rolling along the bottom of the ocean, struggling to find the surface.

My gaze dropped to the plastic basket in his hand. He was buying secondhand clothes for his daughters and used shoes for his feet. Ellasbeth was in her glory, and I worried every time Lucy went to fulfill her visitation rights that her lawyers would find a way to detain both girls.

"Hey…" Trent tugged me into him, trying to shake my bad mood. "I made some changes to the grove when Al left. I think you'll like it."

"I can't wait," I said, but I wasn't really listening, more concerned with how the next few days were going to play out. Going into the past to bargain with Newt for a mirror? What if I changed something and came back to find Trent and Ellasbeth married?

"Jenks, I put in some late-pollinator plants on the south end. Help yourself."

"Great. Thanks," Jenks said, his wings tickling my neck as a stream of greenish-blue dust sifted down my front.

"And I added an outdoor space," Trent continued, his pace slowing as the light began to brighten when the forest thinned. "Put in a tub for the girls…"

"Oh, really?" I stepped over a fallen log, recognizing where we were now. It was Al's old grove, though the protective ring of toadstools was gone, moved to my church, apparently.

"A tub?" Jenks scoffed, and I slowed at the edge of the clearing to take in the changes.

The three cherry trees in the corner were no longer in bloom, the leaves brown and crisping as whatever spell Al had on them had faded with his absence. Tulpa, Trent's gray horse and familiar, cropped the grass under them, his long, manicured tail swishing and his coat gleaming in the low light. Al's wagon was gone, but in its place was a large tent set up beside the stream. A patio of flat, rough stone made a pleasant cleared space around the fire. The flat stones continued into the stream to outline a deep basin. The river ran straight through it and on, but there was a nearby rock that could dam the openings, creating, as Trent had said, a tub.

"Oh, my gosh," I said as I rocked into motion to take a closer look. "It's a tub."

Trent grinned, his gaze following Jenks as the pixy went to scope out the place. "Yes. I stop the flow with a rock, and once it's full, it's easy to warm it up." His arm fell from behind my back. "Lucy…" he said, shuddering. "Lucy does not like cold water."

"She takes after her mom," I said, and Trent sighed, his fingers tight in mine as we crossed the glen. "Dinner sounds great," I said as the peace of the crickets took hold of me. I could forget everything for a few hours and just…be. "What can I do to help? Start the fire?"

He shook his head. "I've got it." His attention flicked past me to the stream. "You want to try the hot tub?"

Mmmm? "Sure, I don't mind warming the water." A quiver of anticipation shivered through me as I recalled his thickening layer of smut. Perhaps this was where it was coming from. Soaking in a puddle of hot water watching the stars come out would be a little slice of heaven. The only thing to make it better would be a fire, and he had that, too. "I'll find some wood for the fire first."

"No need. I got it. You can take a soak while I finish the soup."

"You sure?" I asked, and he gave me a gentle push.

"You, naked in my river? Absolutely," he said, and I grinned.

Jenks's wings clattered in annoyance. "Oh, for ever-loving, troll-humping fairy farts," the pixy said. "If you need me, I'll be with the horse."

Twenty minutes and a singed finger later, I had shimmied out of my clothes and was easing into a warm puddle of water, moaning as I settled my bare ass on a flat rock now radiating a gentle warmth. The sound of Trent fussing over a pot above the fire was incredibly soothing, and I felt my eyes slip shut. It was obvious now that—much like demons—his darkening layer of smut had been not from illicit spells but from him replacing his tech-rich luxuries with magic-based fineries. The entire glen felt safe, what with the lingering scent of burnt amber and the zing of elven magic.

My breath eased in and out, as relaxed as the day I was born, while the crickets sang their song of insect seduction. Trent was making me dinner, and I drowsed, lulled by the heat of the water and the peace of the place…

Until a soft ripple of water splashed, and the cool of the night hit me, startling me awake.

"Oh, hey!" I said, sitting up as Trent eased himself into the makeshift bath across from me, the water rising higher to rub out the chill the lapping water had left. His naked body was little more than a shadow, and I looked up, surprised that the stars had shifted. The fire, too, was now only embers. "Crap on toast," I whispered as he beamed at me. "I fell asleep?"

Moving slow to keep the ripples at a minimum, Trent eased closer until our shoulders touched and our feet intertwined. "You were tired." His arm slipped behind me. "I had to reheat the water."

My gaze went to the water, then back to his lightly stubbled face. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Don't worry about it. The soup will hold." A sigh sifted from him, and he stared up at the sky. "This is very nice."

Behind him, a burnt-out candle sat between two covered bowls and a bottle of opened wine on a small table. "You should have woken me."

Trent's eyes closed. "I'm not going to wake you up for soup."

"Yeah, but you made it for me." I scanned the silent campsite for Jenks, finally spotting a faint glow over by the horse. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

His eyes opened and he tugged me closer, his fingertips tracing a suggestive circle on my shoulder. "You fell asleep in my wooded garden," he said, voice low. "That's dangerous, you know. Falling asleep in an elf's garden?" Water trickled as he shifted to give me a kiss, his lips tasting of broth and wine. "You might never escape," he whispered.

Escape wasn't exactly on my mind at the moment, and a wry feeling of disappointment rose through me when he eased back to settle more firmly beside me. I was naked. He was naked, and his eyes were shut again. What's wrong with this picture?

"Escape? I should be that unlucky," I said, even as I wondered again why I was trying so hard to remain in reality. Al clearly wanted me in the ever-after until his synapses healed and he could do magic again. Trent was in exile, accessible and wonderfully bored. The coven was after my ass. I could wait them out. A hundred years was all it would take, and as a demon, I had that to spare.

And yet I couldn't leave Cincy to the mercy of whoever was strongest. Not when they fought only for themselves, not the weakest. I hated a bully, and that's what many undead vampires were. Most had to be incredibly selfish to survive in the first place, and that carried over when they died their first death.

Trent's breath was slow and even, and I shifted, water sloshing. "I had fun tonight." Sideways to him, I played with his hair, my entire side going cold. "Evading Laker?" His skin was perfect, glistening with a sheen of water, the firelight turning him into silver and gold under my touch. "Elven magic is so…earthy," I whispered, smiling as I saw goose bumps rise behind a finger trailing down his neck. "Every time you pulled on a line, I could feel it."

"Mmmm," he said, drowsy, and I sent a little surge of ley line energy into the water.

Trent shuddered, a wrinkle of water echoing from him as his eyes opened wide. They were almost black in the dim light, glints of firelight making him a dangerous shadow under my touch. The softness of sleep was gone, and a shiver traced down my spine when his gaze found mine. "I didn't know you could sense me pulling on a line. Is that an issue?" he said, voice full of question.

I snuggled closer, my hand finding him in suggestion. "Only because it gets me more randy than a goat. Are you sleepy?"

"Ah, not anymore." Water sloshed as he shifted to tuck his arm behind my head, pillowing it. "What time do you need to be at the church?"

Sensation rippled over me as his hand found my thigh, tracing up and down in a gentle rhythm. "Hours ago." Tilting my head, I found his ear with my teeth, nibbling, tugging. "Ivy will be frantic."

A small sound escaped him, and under my hand, he became hard, his breath quickening. "I'm incredibly busy tonight," I whispered.

"I can see that." Again water sloshed, and suddenly he was over me, a heady, delicious feeling suffusing me as he nudged my thighs and I moved to make room for him. "This was not on my agenda, but I'll see if I can work you in."

Warm, he pressed into my entire length, and looking up at him, I could see only love. "That's my line," I whispered, then gasped when his reaching fingers sent little jolts of ley line energy into me, sparking against my skin and delving deep. My hold on him spasmed, and he leaned in, lips finding my neck.

"Oh, God," I groaned as he drew the smallest thread of ley line energy through me, running from my neck to my groin. It was almost too much, and I arched into him, reaching to guide him in. Foreplay? The entire evening had been foreplay, and I wrapped an arm around him, holding him close as a thrill flowed through me when I felt him enter me, the water making everything rougher than normal.

My breath left me in a rush, and I arched into him again, demanding more as he moved with me, slow at first, each motion meeting mine with an almost savage grace. My fingers grasped his shoulder, and when his teeth found my old vampire scar, I groaned, gasping as he worked it in time with our joined motion.

Water sloshed, and his hand cradled my head, cushioning me even as his lips and teeth savaged my scar, relishing the way he could make me feel. Sensation built upon itself, threatening to break. My breath came fast, and wanting everything, I sent a dart of my thought into his chi, smothering myself in him until I pulled the energy in his chi to me with a whip-crack snap.

Trent shuddered, jaw snapping shut on my ear.

Mine, I felt echo between us, but I wasn't sure whose thought it was first as a tingling rippled over us both, luring us into a deeper motion. Groaning, he arched forward to meet me, and with a sudden ping, I felt him climax, pushing deep into me with a sound of relief.

Wild with abandon, I shuddered, my hold on him spasming as his stolen energy snapped back to him, pulling a moan from me as it seemed to spark through the water like fire.

"Oh, God. Rachel," he whispered, as we clung to an electrifying bliss, each pulse of our hearts sending another jolt of passion through us both.

Until something went kersploot and a surge of cold water cascaded over us.

I gasped, my eyes flashing open as Trent swore, his weight coming down upon his elbow as he held my head in one hand and fumbled to replace the rock he'd knocked free with the other. He pulled from me in a sudden motion, biting back a yelp of pain as my muscles hadn't let go yet.

The mood utterly broken, he struggled to keep the freezing water out, rocks clattering and a muttered word of Latin joining the cricket-filled night until a warm wash of water blossomed once more and he looked down at me, water glistening to show every beautiful curve of muscle.

"I am so sorry."

Laughing, I pulled him down to me, holding him where he belonged until the water warmed us both again. "I don't know what for. That was amazing," I whispered, head against his shoulder, and an annoyed sound escaped him.

"I knocked the rock lose," he complained. "Completely broke the mood."

"And almost your manhood," I whispered, and he winced. Content, I played with the damp hair about his ears, liking the way the stars glinted past him and the way the water made glistening shadows against us. "Your aura is getting smutty."

"Is that a bad thing?"

I shook my head. "No. It, ah, might attract the wrong attention, though," I said, and his shoulders slumped in relief.

"Mmmm." Finally he eased himself back down next to me, and the world became even more right as his fingers traced a loving circle on my skin. "I've been doing a lot of magic lately. To take the place of technology." His eyes slowly slipped shut, and his motions slowed. "You sure it doesn't bother you? You're right that once I settle this and return to reality, there will be consequences. It's not as if I can hide a smutty aura."

"No." I studied the lighter dark against the top of the tree line. "Maybe you can convince someone to take it in lieu of giving you money."

He sighed, his muscles relaxing one by one. "It's possible, but I need the money more. And I kind of like it." A smile twitched his lips as he settled deeper into the warm water. "The smut, I mean."

Water drippled from my arm as I put it across his chest and rested against him. "It does give you a bad-boy flair."

He chuckled, eyes still closed. I wasn't sure I believed him, though as I looked over his camp, I saw nothing immoral here. Less businessman, more elf warlord suited him.

"Just missing a few things," he said, drowsy as his fingers' motion against me stopped. "You. The girls. But I get it. Living out in the woods is not for everyone."

A sigh shifted me, making little slices of cold skin as the water fell and lifted. "Yeah. As nice as this is, I would miss…"

Trent's eyes opened, their green lost in the dark. "What? Fighting for your right to exist? Your life on the line every day for someone else's problem?"

I snuggled closer, feet twining with his. "Honest? I'd get bored with this every day. Though tonight?" I sighed again, my focus on the stars beyond the dark trees. "This is perfect."

The water sloshed as Trent's arm tightened about me. "You're right. It's a pleasant exile, but I'm missing the game as well." He was silent a telling moment. "And my mother's library. Seeing a new generation of breeding cross the finish line. Coffee at the top of Carew Tower with the sun turning everything gold and black."

Guilt pulled through me as I lay twined with him, the soft noises of Tulpa and the ever-present crickets a soothing balm. Trent's arm around me was proof that I was loved, and that I loved in return, in so many ways. It made me wonder why I was trying so hard to stay in reality.

"Wow," Trent said, a hint of pride in his voice. "Did you know they did that?"

"What?" I said, and he took my hand in his, showing me our twin pearl rings glowing against each other. He'd spelled them himself, and if either of us took our ring off, the other ring would become black. Worst case, the ring was a call for help, but he'd made them to be a live-time reassurance that we were both all right. If my life wasn't in danger every four months, I'd say he was being overprotective, but I'd personally found a huge sense of relief in them every day.

"Oh, yeah." I felt myself warm as I snuggled closer. "They do that when we, ah, do that."

"I never noticed." A frown crossed him. "That reminds me. Don't move. I want to give you something before I forget."

I stiffened when he pulled away, water falling from him in a sheet as he stood and made his graceful way to his inlaid-stone patio. Fast from the cold, he padded to his tent, giving me an excellent opportunity to ogle his well-toned body lit by the dying fire until he vanished inside.

But his hands were empty when he came back out. "What is it?" I said when he quickly slipped into the warm water, exhaling as if he'd been holding his breath. One of his hands was clenched into a fist, and I sat up, scooting closer when he opened it.

"It's for you," he said as I looked at the small, child-size ring lying in his wet palm. "I want you to take it with you."

"Oh!" I glanced between the rings. "It's tiny," I said as I picked the new one up, smiling at the red stone and the whisper of hidden magic prickling my fingers. "What does it do?"

A smile quirked his lips. "I have no idea. I want you to trade it for the mirror."

My hand closed around it. "I'm not going to give it to Newt. Especially if I don't know what it does."

"If she wants it, give it to her." His hand took mine, opening it to take the ring and put it on my pinky, where it fit perfectly. "It was my mom's. I know it will last the trip."

The tiny red stone glinted wetly on my finger. "You think Newt might know what it does?"

He shrugged. "It's possible. I have a sneaking suspicion that my mother knew Al. There have never been many demons who let their summoning name be known. And, ah, if you run into me, seeing it on your hand might slow me down enough for you to escape."

I reached to tug it off. "Right after you accuse me of stealing it. Trent, I'm not trading your mother's ring for a mirror."

But his hand curved about mine, stopping me. "Yes, you will. If I don't know what it does, it's just a pretty ring." He paused. "And I like seeing it on your hand."

I angled it until the light made it shine. "Your mom had tiny fingers."

"Not really. She wore it on her pinky, too." He hesitated. "I could resize it if you want."

A flash of worry spiked through me. "No, pinky is fine," I said, and he tugged me closer and gave me a kiss.

"You're funny," he whispered. "If I was going to propose, I wouldn't do it naked in the middle of a forest."

"Trent…" I started, and he leaned in to give me another kiss.

"Give it to Newt," he whispered when our lips parted. "I can't sit here and watch you leave without trying to help. You wearing my mother's ring doesn't mean anything is changing."

But that's not what it felt like. Change was inevitable, especially if I couldn't fix things with the coven, and I forced myself to smile as I eased back into his arms and stared up at the stars. What he had here was wonderful. I knew Al wanted me to abandon reality, exchanging my chancy existence and the stress of balancing a city's wants for the pleasant expansion of knowledge. The coven would forget about me, and Ivy would be okay. Jenks, too.

But as I sat beside Trent and traced glyphs of protection on the palm of his hand, I knew that wasn't my path. I wasn't going into the past to keep the coven off my case. I was going because I had cursed someone, and it was my responsibility to uncurse him even if I lost everything in the process.

Full stop.