“Of course I will honor it. Go file the papers. Come back in three months.” Ku’Sox’s eyebrows were mockingly high. “Unless you want to settle this a different way?”

Trent paled, and in the corner, Nick shifted to make himself look smaller. If I could free Lucy, then Trent might be free to act when I got that line cleared of the sludge in it. “I’m a reasonable man,” Ku’Sox said, bouncing Lucy, which made her cry even harder. “I’m sure we can come to a mutually agreeable arrangement. I want my freedom, Rachel. Now.”

I backed up, remembering the feel of Ku’Sox’s breath on my skin, his grip on my body, the way his eyes touched me. I shook my head, and Ku’Sox smiled knowingly.

“Down, down, down!” Lucy raged, and his gaze never leaving mine, the demon let her slip from him. Immediately she got to her feet, running awkwardly to Trent. My heart seemed to break as Trent dropped down to meet her, holding her tight as his eyes closed, his hand covering the back of her head and his arm around her, lifting her to him. His eyes opened, and I saw his fervent surety that nothing short of death would ever convince him to let go of her again.

Son of a bitch, I thought, looking at Ku’Sox’s soft smile of satisfaction. We were his playthings, dancing to his whim. To say no now would start a bloodbath none of us would survive. Trent would never let Lucy go back to Ku’Sox again. “What do you propose?” I said flatly, having a pretty good idea. He had killed Ceri and Pierce. I wouldn’t give him the chance to kill Lucy.

“Rachel!” Bis complained, wincing when Ku’Sox raised a hand.

Trent looked up, his arms still about Lucy. The little girl was complaining fretfully to him, her words unclear but serious. Behind Ku’Sox, I could see the women and children beyond the glass. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t save you all.

“I want my freedom,” Ku’Sox said with a disturbing lightness. “I want that putrid elven curse you put on me lifted, and I want it lifted now.”

“I want Bis and Lucy, and a trip home,” I said, and he laughed, wiping a spot of baby drool from his sleeve.

“What horrid things babies are. Leaking from every orifice.”