Chapters (39)
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- About the Author
- Also by Kim Harrison
- Credits
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
“Relax, Jenks.” I took Trent’s hand and turned it palm up so I could gently pry his fingers open. “You’re not going.” My eyes met Trent’s, and I took the rings. “You either.”
Trent’s expression cascaded through about six different emotions, all finally vanishing under a cold calm. “I am a part of this,” he warned me.
“Obviously,” I said as I backed up out of his easy reach. He was still wearing the matching pinkie ring, and something in me felt like it was a victory. “I’ll get the rings working, not you. I know you. You’ll get over there, and you’ll do something noble and throw everything off plan.”
“I will not!”
“You will!” I affirmed. “Besides, if I’m over there slumming in the mall looking for Pierce, everyone will think I’m taking care of Al. If you’re there, it will be noticed.”
Looking as if he were eating slugs, Trent dropped his head, making his bangs fall into his eyes. He knew I was right, and it was killing him.
“Those are my rings and my door,” Trent said, his head coming up and holding his hand out. “I’m going.”
Chin high, I refused to back up—but my hand was in a tight fist, hiding them. I had a fleeting memory of having done something like this before involving a key and the counselor’s locked office. “It’s my old boyfriend, so you stay. I’ll get the rings working, and then we can go out to the line and see what we can do. Deal?”
“Ah, Sa’han?” Quen interrupted.
At the we, Trent’s entire mien shifted from frustration to sour acceptance. Backing off, he licked his thumb and held it out, a challenging slant to his expression. My heart pounded. “Deal,” he said, and I licked my thumb and we pressed them together.
Quen hunched into himself in disgust. Jenks was on his shoulder shedding a weird purple dust, but I was ecstatic. “You won’t follow me,” I insisted, and Trent looked up from under his bangs again, making my heart stop with his half smile.
“I just thumb promised, didn’t I?”
Yes, he had thumb promised, and that he wouldn’t dare break. Or I’d throw him down the camp well and leave him there for three days.
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve