your expression that they did?'
My head bobbed loosely. 'Ley line magic?' I questioned.
A smile, almost shy, flickered over him. 'I specialize in misdirection. Quen thinks it a waste of time, but you'd be surprised what a person will do for a pair of those.'
I pulled my eyes from the headphones. 'I can imagine.'
Trent sipped his tea, leaning back in speculation. 'You don't…want a pair, do you?'
I took a breath, frowning at the faint taunt in his voice. 'Not for what you're asking, no.' Setting my mug of coffee at arm's length, I stood. His earlier behavior of mimicking my motions was suddenly abundantly clear. He was an expert in manipulation. He had to know what signals he was sending. Most people didn't—at least consciously—and that he had tried to lay the groundwork to try to romance my help when money wouldn't buy it was contemptible.
'Thanks for dinner,' I said. 'It was fabulous.'
Surprise brought Trent straight. 'I'll tell Maggie you en joyed it,' he said, his lips tightening. He'd made a mistake, and he knew it.
I wiped my hands off on my sweatshirt. 'I'd appreciate that. I'll get my things.'
'I'll tell Quen you're ready to go.' His voice was flat.
Leaving him sitting at the table, I walked away. I caught a glimpse of him as I turned and went into Ellasbeth's rooms. He was touching the headphones, his posture unable to hide his annoyance. The bandage on his head and his bare feet made him look vulnerable and alone.
Stupid lonely man, I thought.
Stupid ignorant me for pitying him.
Twenty-eight
I scooped my shoulder bag up from the bathroom floor, making a slow circuit to be sure I'd gotten everything. Remembering my garment bag, I went to retrieve it and my coat from the changing room. My jaw dropped at the open phone book on the low table and my face flamed. She had it open to escorts, not independent runners. 'She thinks I'm a hooker,' I muttered, ripping the page out and jamming it into my jeans pocket. Damn it, I didn't care that we both did legit escort service occasionally, Ivy was going to take it out. Ticked, I shrugged into my ugly coat with the fake fur about the collar, snatched up my unworn outfit, and left, almost running into Trent on the open walkway. 'Whoa! Sorry,' I stammered, taking two steps back.
He tightened the tie on his robe, his eyes empty. 'What are you going to do about Lee?'
The night's events rushed back, making me frown. 'Nothing.'
Trent rocked back, surprise making him look young. 'Nothing?'
My focus blurred as I recalled the people scattered where they fell past my saving. Lee was a butcher. He could have gotten them out but had left them so it would look like a hit by Piscary. Which it was, but I couldn't believe that Kisten would do that. He must have warned them. He had to have. But Trent was standing before me, his green eyes questioning.
'It's not my problem,' I said, and pushed past him.
Trent was right behind me, his bare feet silent. 'He tried to kill you.'
Not slowing, I said over my shoulder, 'He tried to kill you. I got in the way.' Twice.
'You're not going to do anything?'
My gaze went to the huge window. It was hard to tell in the dark, but I thought it was clear again. 'I wouldn't say that. I'm going to go home and take a nap. I'm tired.'
I headed for that six-inch-thick door at the end of the walkway. Trent was still behind me. 'You don't care he's going to flood Cincinnati with unsafe Brimstone, killing hundreds?'
My jaw tightened as I thought of Ivy's sister. The jarring from my steps went up my spine. 'You'll take care of him,' I said dryly. 'Seeing as it touches your business interests.'
'You have no desire to seek revenge. None whatsoever.'
His voice was thick with disbelief, and I stopped. 'Look. I got in his way. He's stronger than me. You, on the other hand…I'd just as soon see you fry, elf-boy. Maybe Cincinnati would be better without you.'
Trent's smooth face went blank. 'You don't seriously believe that.'
Shifting my garment bag, I exhaled. 'I don't know what I believe. You aren't honest with me. Excuse me. I have to go home and feed my fish.' I walked away, headed for the door. I knew the way to the front, and Quen would probably catch up with me somewhere in between.
'Wait.'
The pleading tone in his voice pulled me to a stop, my hand touching the door. I turned as Quen appeared at the foot of the stairway, his face worried and threatening. Somehow, I didn't think it was because I was about to go wandering through the Kalamack compound, but of what Trent might say. My hand fell from the doorknob. This might be worth staying for.
'If I tell you what I know of your father, will you help me with Lee?'
At the ground floor, Quen shifted. 'Sa'han—'
Trent's brow furrowed defiantly. 'Exitus acta probat.'
My pulse quickened and I adjusted the fake fur collar of my coat. 'Hey! Keep it English, boys,' I snapped. 'And the last time you said you would tell me about my dad, I came away with his favorite color and what he liked on his hot dog.'
Trent's attention went to the floor of the great room and Quen. His security officer shook his head. 'Would you like to sit down?' Trent said, and Quen grimaced.
'Sure.' Eyeing him warily, I retraced my steps and followed him to the ground floor. He settled himself in a chair tucked between the window and a back wall, his comfortable posture telling me this was where he sat when he was in this room. He had a view of the dark waterfall, and there were several books, their ribbon bookmarks giving evidence of past afternoons in the sun. Behind him on the wall were four tattered Visconti tarot cards, each carefully protected behind glass. My face went cold as I realized that the captive lady on the Devil card looked like Ceri.
'Sa'han,' Quen said softly. 'This is not a good idea.'
Trent ignored him, and Quen retreated to stand behind him, where he could glower at me.
I put my garment bag over a nearby chair and sat, my legs crossed at the knees and my foot bobbing impatiently. Helping Trent with Lee would be a small thing if he told me anything of importance. Hell, I was taking the bastard out myself as soon as I got home and whipped up a few charms. Yeah, I was a liar, but I was always honest with myself about it.
Trent edged to the end of his seat, his elbows on his knees and his gaze on the night. 'Two millennium ago, the tide turned in our effort to reclaim the ever-after from the demons.'
My eyes widened. Foot stilling, I took my coat off. This might take a while to get to my dad. Trent met my gaze, and seeing my acceptance of this roundabout way, he eased back in a squeak of leather. Quen made a pained sound deep in his throat.
'The demons saw their end coming,' Trent said softly. 'In an unusual effort of cooperation, they set aside their internal squabblings for supremacy and worked to twist a curse upon all of us. We didn't even realize it had happened for almost three generations, not recognizing the higher fatality percentage of our newborn for what it was.'
I blinked. The demons were responsible for the elves' failure? I thought it had been their habit of hybridizing with humans.
'Infant mortality increased exponentially each generation,' Trent said. 'Our tenuous grip on victory slipped from us in tiny coffins and the sound of mourning. Eventually we realized they had twisted a curse on us, changing our DNA so that it spontaneously broke, each generation becoming progressively worse.'
My stomach roiled. Genetic genocide. 'You tried to repair the damage by hybridizing with humans?' I asked, hearing the smallness of my voice.
His eyes flicked from the window to me. 'That was a last ditch effort to save something until a way could be
