My pulse was hammering. I recalled Trent pulling Nick off me, the power that had flowed through me when he’d broken the charm hiding me from Al, waiting until I knew what I would lose if I turned my back on my future, and finally that kiss we had shared. It had only been a kiss—no feelings behind it but my own selfish pleasure. Then I thought of Ellasbeth. He had a duty there, one I knew he would sacrifice everything for. “But . . .”

“I wasn’t sure until now, but I know you’ll be what he needs.”

What he needs? “What about me? Who is going to risk their life for me?”

Quen’s eyes came back to mine. “He will, of course.”

His voice was confident, and I could do nothing but stare with my mouth hanging open.

“I have to go before she learns how to drive,” he said, seeing my confusion. “I’ll talk to the owners of that charm again.”

“I haven’t said yes, yet,” I said, and Quen turned in the threshold, not in the kitchen, not in the hall.

“It’s said that the reason the elves and demons began their war is because of a broken alliance,” he said, the world-weary damage to his face making him look wise. “I’ve always found it to be true—that the best of friends make the bitterest of enemies. Elves and demons, forever fighting. Who is to say that demons weren’t the slaves of elves first?”

My eyes were wide as he inclined his head, spun slowly on a heel, and went down the hall. “Don’t worry about reinvoking the charms,” he said loudly, his steps going faint. “Your dad was a good man, but cheap. The silver is too frail. You’ll be able to fix the good ones.”

I dropped back against the counter, crossing my arms as I listened to him pass through the sanctuary and into the late afternoon sun. Work with Trent? With that dragon in the background watching me? Was he nuts?

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

My boots thumped dully on the sidewalk before the church, and with a bag of groceries on my hip, I smiled as I passed the red Mercedes parked at the curb, looking gray in the new dark, but still sexy. Ivy was back early.

Ivy didn’t have a car, much less anything as flamboyant as a red Mercedes, but Nina did, and if Ivy had caught an earlier flight, Nina would have offered to pick her up at the airport. Which was good, seeing as my car was still at Trent’s gatehouse.