Quen wasn’t done yet, though, and Jenks’s wings clattered when the man took several steps closer to the thief. “If you move, I will send fire through your spine and explode your brain from the inside.”

Eyeing him darkly, Nick opened his mouth, and I gasped as Quen lashed out impossibly fast. Ivy jumped, but he’d only slapped him, and Nick’s head was lolling as he struggled to focus. Up in the rafters, the pixies shouted their approval.

“Can I speak to you in private for a moment?” Quen said, dismissing Nick.

Nick was still trying to focus, and I turned to Quen. “I see your magic is back within normal parameters,” I said as we headed to the kitchen. Jenks and Jax were inches away from each other. Neither one was dusting heavily in distress. This was good, right?

Quen’s pace was slow as we entered the hallway. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked, surprising me. Hesitating at the top of the hall, he turned halfway around. “Is anyone hungry? We have time to eat before we go. I want to talk to everyone, and it might as well be over food.”

He wants to eat?

“Pizza, maybe?” Quen said, squinting at Nick.

The pixies in the rafters shouted their agreement, but Ivy’s expression said what I was thinking. Pizza sounded awful, and my stomach was already churning. “Sure, okay,” I said when she shrugged. Maybe Quen wanted a last supper kind of a thing.

Quen’s lips twitched as he glanced at Nick and then away. “Great, can someone else order it? I want to see what Rachel is wearing tonight.” He took my elbow, trying to guide me back into motion. “You picked out something nice, right?”

I shivered at how similar his and Trent’s speech cadences were. I felt like I was being pushed along, and I didn’t like it. “Yes. Newt helped me.”

“Newt?” he said, clearly thinking I was joking, and my feet slipped as I stopped to look behind me. Ivy already had the phone, and pixies were shouting out toppings. Jax seemed better, looking at his dad with something other than fear and shame. Nick was sullen as he sulked in the chair holding a tissue to his lip. He wouldn’t try to go back to Ku’Sox until the last moment.

“Show me what you’re wearing,” Quen said, jerking me into my room.

“Hey!” I exclaimed as Quen shut the door behind him.

Arms over his chest, he exhaled in relief. “I see the appeal of living with pixies,” he said softly, “but do they ever stop talking?”

“Only when they sleep.” Eyeing him, I cocked my hip. “What do you want that you can’t ask in front of everyone?”

He compressed his lips and came forward a step. “Can I see the rings?”