I took a breath to answer, but Jenks was way ahead of me. 'Go suck a slug egg,' he snarled, unusually defensive. 'Rachel doesn't owe Quen anything.'
Actually, I sort of did—seeing as he saved my butt last year with Piscary—and the beginnings of shame trickled through me. Damn it. If I didn't go visit Quen, I was going to feel guilty the rest of my life. I really hated this growing-up thing.
Ivy crossed her arms and cocked her hip. Trent dropped his gaze, steadying himself. When he brought his attention back to me, I saw a glimmer of fear, not for himself, but for Quen. 'He isn't going to live through the night,' he said, the calling children in the street a macabre contrast to his words. 'He wants to speak to you. Please.'
Jenks saw me hesitate, and in a burst of anger, he lit my shoulder with gold sparkles. 'Hell no, Rachel. He just wants to get you off hallowed ground so Al can kill you.'
I winced, thinking. Quen had given me information before, and people did weird stuff on their deathbed. Last confessions, that kind of thing. I knew I should stay on hallowed ground, but I'd been on and off it all night. I was going to go. I had to. Quen had known my dad. This might be my last and only chance to find out about him.
Ivy saw it in my face, and she grabbed her coat from the peg. 'I'm going with you.'
My pulse quickened, and Trent's expression turned confused at my change of heart.
'I'll get your keys,' Jenks said.
'We'll take my car,' Ivy countered, turning to get her purse.
'No,' Trent said, stopping her cold. 'Only her. No pixies. No vampires. Just her.'
Majorly ticked, Ivy looked him up and down.
The two were going to be at each other's throats before we hit the sidewalk, even if Trent did give in and let her come. 'None of you are coming,' I said firmly. 'Trent doesn't live on hallowed ground—'
'Which is exactly why we are going,' Ivy interrupted.
'And I can take care of myself easier if I'm not worrying about you.' I took a deep breath, my hand coming up to forestall another protest. 'Tom isn't going to summon Al. He's afraid I'll send him right back at him.' Trent blanched, and I shot him a dry look. 'I'll get my stuff,' I said, then darted to the kitchen.
Ivy and Jenks were having a hushed argument in the corner when I returned to the foyer, and while Trent watched in silence, I made a point of pulling out my splat gun, checking the hopper, then sliding it into the small of my back. There was a stick of magnetic chalk and the amulets from my run with David earlier, and as Ivy flung her hand in the air and scowled at Jenks, I looped the cord of the heavy-magic detection charm over my head. It would give me a few seconds if Al showed.
'I'll call you in a few hours,' I said, and jingling my car keys, I stepped past the threshold and firmly outside the church's influence.
My heart pounded. I heard the excited kids, felt the night. The smell of burning pumpkin was strong, and I waited for a 'Hello, Rachel Mariana Morgan' or 'Trick or treat, love' in a proper English accent. But there was nothing. Al wasn't going to show. I had taken care of it myself. Yay, team.
Jenks landed on my hoop earring, flying up and away when I reached for him. 'You're staying, Jenks.'
'Smelly green grass farts, I'm not,' he said, darting to Trent and forcing him back a startled step. 'Ivy and I discussed it, and I'm going with you. You can't stop me, and you know it. And who's going to help you circle Al if he shows up? Trent? He should be begging me to come with you. He can't stop a demon.' The pixy got in the elf 's face. 'Or do you have some special talent we aren't aware of?'
Tired, I looked at Trent. The young man frowned. 'He can come to the front gate, and that's it,' he said. With a smooth grace, he turned and started down the stairs.
'Front gate, my dragonfly's green turds,' Jenks muttered.
Worry tightened my chest, and my gaze went to Ivy standing alone with her arms over her middle just inside the door. God, I was so stupid, running off to Trent's stronghold to sit with a dying man. But the guilt, and maybe curiosity, were stronger than my fear.
'You know I want to go,' she said, and I nodded. Quen had been bitten by a vampire and had an unbound scar. To ask him to overlook Ivy's presence wasn't going to happen.
'I'll call you when I know something,' I said. I hesitated before her, not knowing what else to say, and when Jenks landed on my earring, I headed down the stairs. Seeing me going to the carport, Trent rolled down his window and called, 'I'll drive you out, Morgan.'
'I'm taking my car,' I countered, never slowing. 'I'm not going to get stuck at your compound with no way home.'
'Suit yourself,' he said dryly, then rolled the window up. The hazard lights flicked off, and he waited for me.
I looked to Ivy, who was standing beside Jenks's pumpkin. Somewhere between me opening the door to find Trent and me getting to my car, it had gone out. She didn't look happy, but neither did I. 'I hope she's okay,' I said as I opened my car door.
'I'm more worried about us, Rache,' said Jenks.
Getting in, I slammed the door and settled myself. 'Tom's a weenie,' I said softly. 'He's not going to call Al.'
Jenks's wings cooled my neck. 'What if someone else does?'
I started the car, the engine rumbling to life with the sound of security. 'Thanks, Jenks. I really needed that.'
Twenty
The long road just off the interstate to Trent's house/corporate office was busy. The two-lane road wound and twisted its way through a sprawling, planned old-growth forest. Having run for my life through it once with dogs and horses chasing me, it had lost much of its appeal.
The ride out here had been fast and quiet once we got out of the city. Jenks had maintained a pensive silence after I suggested he peacefully stay at the outer gate and meet me inside when he managed to slip the guards. That had been a mere five minutes ago, and I missed the pixy already. Worried, I glanced at my shoulder bag on the seat beside me. I'd leave it open so he could duck in when he showed up. I'd be stupid to think Trent didn't expect Jenks to try to circumvent their security, but it would be one way to prove to Trent he was doing himself a disservice by shunning pixies as security specialists. With Quen dying, he was going to have to come up with something.
Quen is really dying? I thought, feeling guilty for not taking Trent seriously yesterday. And why does he think it's my fault?
My gaze dropped to the speedometer, and I tunked it down to keep from running into Trent. And as the multistory, sprawling complex of offices and business research buildings came into view, I slowed to a crawl, surprised.
His visitor lot was crammed and overflowing onto the grass. To one side were several white-painted school buses clashing with the ranks of expensive cars and what was clearly a band's tour bus. I looked at the back of Trent's head in the car ahead of me, disgusted. Quen was dying, and he was having a party?
I slowed further, rolling my window down to hear the chatter, hoping Jenks would swoop in. People in costume were everywhere, their movements fast with excitement as they milled around before heading to the expansive front entryway. Trent's brake lights flashed, and adrenaline surged when I hit my own brakes to avoid rear-ending him. I was ready to lose it when I glimpsed a three-foot-tall ghost darting between cars, a harried woman with a clipboard chasing him or her.
It was Trent's yearly Halloween extravaganza, thrown for the obscenely wealthy to mingle with the tragically unfortunate, hoping to tug at heartstrings and make a bold political statement as much as genuinely help them. I hated election years.
My fingers tightened on the gearshift and I crept forward, watching for both people and a parking spot. I couldn't believe there weren't valets, but apparently part of the fun was pretending you were slumming it.
Trent's arm came out the window to point to a service entrance. It was an excellent idea, and I took the left
