a thump. 'Does Trent know you saw it?' she asked, her eyes black in the dimmer light.
'Oh, I'd say he does.' I went to get another cookie to subtly put some space between us. 'Seeing as I had to use the line to find the body.'
Her lips pressed together and her lanky stance went tight. 'You put your head on the block again. You, me, Jenks, and his entire family. Trent will do anything to keep this quiet.'
'If he was that worried about it, he wouldn't have risked putting his office on the line,' I protested, hoping I was right. 'Anyone looking would find it. He could still be Inderlander or human. We're safe, especially if I don't say anything about the ley line.'
'Jenks might figure it out,' she insisted. 'You know how he'll blab it. He'd love the prestige of finding out what Trent is.'
I snatched a cookie. 'What am I supposed to do? If I tell him to keep his mouth shut about the line, he'll only try to figure out why.'
Her fingers drummed on the counter as I ate the short-bread and cream. In an unnerving display of strength, she used one hand to lever herself up to sit atop the cabinets. Her face had come alive, her thin eyebrows creased with the chance to solve the long-running mystery. 'So what do you think he is? Human or witch?'
Returning to the sink, I ran hot water over the frozen meat. 'Neither.' It was a flat admission. Ivy remained silent, and I turned the water off. 'He's neither, Ivy. I would stake my life that he isn't a witch, and Jenks swears he's more than human.'
Is this why I stayed? I wondered, seeing her eyes alight and her mind working with mine. Her logic, and my intuition. In spite of the problems, we worked well together. We always had.
Ivy shook her head, her features blurred in the blue-curtained dusk, but I could feel her tension rising. 'It's the only choices we have. You eliminate everything, and whatever remains, no matter how improbable, is the answer.'
It didn't surprise me she was quoting Sherlock Holmes. The anal logic and brusque nature of the fictional detective fit right in with Ivy's personality. 'Well, if you want to entertain the improbable,' I muttered, 'you can lump demons in with the possibilities.'
'Demons?' Ivy's tapping fingers stilled.
I shook my head in bother. 'Trent's not a demon. I only mentioned it because demons are from the ever-after and so can manipulate ley lines, too.'
'I'd forgotten that,' she breathed, the soft sound sending a shiver down my spine, but she was intent on her thoughts and had no idea how creepy she was getting. 'That you're related, I mean. Witches and demons.' An affronted snort slipped past me, and she shrugged apologetically. 'Sorry. Didn't know it was a sore spot.'
'It isn't,' I said tightly, though it was. There had been a flurry of controversy about a decade ago when a nosy human in the field of Inderland genealogy got hold of the few genetic maps that had survived the Turn, theorizing that because witches could manipulate ley lines, we had originated in the ever-after along with demons. Witches aren't related to demons. But much to our embarrassment, science forced us to admit aloud that we had evolved right along next to them in the ever-after.
Finding funding with that unsavory tidbit, the woman then went beyond her original theory, using the rates of RNA mutation to properly place the time of our en masse migration to this side of the ley lines about five thousand years ago. Witch mythology claimed that a demon uprising had prompted the move, leaving the elves to foolishly wage a losing battle, since they wouldn't leave their beloved fields and woods to be raped of their natural resources and polluted. It sounded like a viable theory, and the elves had lost all their history by the time they gave up and followed suit a measly two thousand years ago.
That humans had developed skill in ley line magic about that time was blamed on the elves' practice of using their magic to hybridize with humanity to stave off the extinction the demons started and the Turn finished. My thoughts turned to Nick, and I slumped. It was just as well witches were so far from humanity that even magic couldn't bridge the gap. Who knew what an uninformed witch/human hybrid skilled in ley lines might do? That the elves had brought humanity into the ley-line-using family was bad enough. The elves' dexterity with line magic had slipped into the human genome as if it belonged. It was enough to make you wonder.
Ivy looked up, her swinging legs stilling as she took in my expression.
'He's an elf,' I whispered, the thrill of discovery bubbling up making my pulse race. 'They didn't die out in the Turn. He's an elf. Trent is a freaking elf!'
'Whoa, wait a minute,' Ivy warned. 'They're gone. If any were alive, Jenks would know. He'd be able to smell it.'
I shook my head, pacing to the hallway to look for winged eavesdroppers. 'Not if the elves went underground for a pixy/fairy generation. The Turn pretty much did them in, and it wouldn't be hard to hide what survived until the last pixy who knew what they smelled like died. They only live about twenty years or so, pixies I mean.' My words tumbled over themselves as I rushed to get it out. 'And you saw how Trent doesn't like them or fairies. It's almost a phobia. It fits! I can't believe it! We figured it out!'
'Rachel,' Ivy cajoled as she shifted atop the counter. 'Don't be stupid. He's not an elf.'
Arms crossed, I pressed my lips together in frustration. 'He sleeps at noon and midnight,' I said, 'and he's most active at dawn and dusk, just like elves were. He possesses nearly vamplike reflexes. He likes his solitude but is damn good at manipulating people. My God, Ivy, the man tried to ride me down on horseback like prey under the full moon!' I tossed my arms as I gestured. 'You've seen his gardens and that artificial forest of his. He's an elf! And so are Quen and Jonathan.'
She shook her head. 'They died. All of them. And what would they have to gain by letting even Inderland think they were gone if they weren't? You know how we throw money at endangered species. Especially intelligent ones.'
'I don't know,' I said, exasperated with her disbelief. 'Humanity was never keen on their history of stealing human babies and substituting their own failing infants. That would be enough for me to keep my mouth shut and my head down until everyone thought we were dead.'
Ivy made a noise of doubt deep in her throat, but I could see her belief shifting. 'He works ley lines,' I insisted. 'You said it yourself. Eliminate the impossible, and what's left, no matter how improbable, is the truth. The man isn't human or witch.' My eyes closed as I remembered biting both Jonathan and Trent when I had been a mink, struggling to escape. 'He can't be. His blood tastes like cinnamon and wine.'
'He's an elf,' Ivy said, her voice shockingly flat. I opened my eyes. Her face was alive and alight. 'Why didn't you tell me he tasted like cinnamon?' she said as she slipped from the counter, her black ankle boots hitting the linoleum without a sound.
Self-preservation pulled me a step from her before I knew I had moved. 'I thought it might have been from the drugs he had knocked me out with,' I said, not liking that the mention of blood had jerked her into motion. The brown of her irises was shrinking behind her widening pupils. I was sure it was from discovering Trent's ancestry and not me standing in her kitchen with my blood pounding and my palms sweating. But still…I didn't like it.
Mind whirling, I gave her a warning look and put the island counter between us.
'You aren't going to tell him you know,' Ivy said, giving me an apologetic look before putting her back against the counter in a blatant show of keeping her distance.
'I have to talk to Trent. He'll talk to me if I drop this on his plate and serve it up with gravy. I'll be okay. I have that blackmail on him.'
'Edden will slap you with a harassment suit if you so much as call him,' Ivy warned.
My eyes lit upon the bag of sandwich cookies with their little oak tree and clapboard sign. Moving slowly, I slid the bag closer, picking out a figure with all his limbs intact. Ivy's eyes dropped to the cellophane, then rose to me. I could almost see her thoughts aligning themselves to mine. She gave me one of her few honest smiles, letting slip only the barest glimmer of teeth as a wicked yet almost shy look brought her alive.
A shiver laced through me, pulling my insides tight. 'I think I know how to get his attention,' I said, biting the head clean off the chocolate-covered cookie and wiping the crumbs from my lips. But in the back of my head, a new question niggled, incited by Nick's constant worry. Was the thrill of anticipation I felt rising through me from my
