It was hard, but I managed to keep a somewhat pleasant expression on my face as I slumped in the seat. I suddenly felt like I was being lulled, lured into places that I once vowed I’d never go: places like working for Trent, sex with a vampire, crossing the street without looking. All of them you could get away with, but eventually you were going to get blasted by a bus. What in hell was I doing in a limo with Trent?

We had passed into the Hollows, and I sat up, taking more interest. The holiday lights were thick, primarily green, white, and gold. The silence stretched. “So-o-o, who is Ellasbeth?”

Trent shot me a poisonous look, and I smiled sweetly. “Not my idea,” he said.

How very interesting, I thought. I found a nerve. Wouldn’t it be fun to stomp on it? “Old girlfriend?” I guessed brightly. “Live-in? Ugly sister you hide in the basement?”

Trent’s expression had returned to its professional emptiness, but his restless fingers were ever-moving. “I like your jewelry,” he said. “Maybe I should have had Jonathan put it into the house safe while we were gone.”

I put a hand to his necklace, feeling it warm from my body. “I was wearing crap, and you know it.” Damn it, I had enough of his gold on me to make a set of false teeth for a horse.

“We can talk about Nick, then.” Trent’s soothing voice carried a derisive edge. “I’d much rather talk about Nick. It was Nick, wasn’t it? Nick Sparagmos? He’s moved out of the city, I hear, after you sent him into an epileptic seizure.” Hands clasped at his knee, he gave me a telling look, pale eyebrows high. “What did you do to him? I never could find that out.”

“Nick is fine.” I pulled my hands down before they could play with my hair. “I’m watching his apartment while he’s away on business.” I looked out the window, reaching behind me to pull the shawl back up over my shoulders. He could sling mud better than the best rich-bitch at school. “We need to discuss what it is I’m supposed to be protecting you against.”

From the driver’s seat came Jonathan’s snort. Trent, too, chuckled. “I’m not in need of protection,” he said. “If I was, Quen would be here. You’re a semifunctioning decoration.”

Semifunctioning… “Yeah?” I shot back, wishing I could say I was surprised.

“Yeah,” he said right back, the word sounding odd coming from him. “So sit where you’re put and keep your mouth shut.”