Trent shrugged to shift from powerful drug lord to frustrated fiancé. “She hasn’t decided between the two of them. You’re an eight tall, right? Long in the sleeves?”

I was, and it was flattering he remembered. But then so was Ellasbeth. “What color are they?” I asked, curious.

“Ah, she’s narrowed it down to a modest black shift and a full-length sea green,” he said.

Unflattering flat black and cucumber-puke green. Grea-a-a-a-at. “No.”

Quen gently applied the brakes and put the car in park. We were at the church. I grabbed my bag to look into it and make sure I still had the focus. They were elves. I didn’t know what they could do. “Thanks for the ride, Trent.” The tension rose as I unbuckled myself. “It was nice seeing you, Quen,” I said, then hesitated, meeting his green eyes as he sat with his hands on the wheel and waited. “You…ah, aren’t going to show up tonight to convince me, are you?”

Breaking his stoic expression, he met my gaze levelly. “No, Ms. Morgan. The danger is real this time, so I respect your decision.”

Trent cleared his throat in a nonverbal rebuke, and I gave Quen a thankful nod. The security expert had enough clout to defy Trent if his reasonings were sound, and it made me feel good that someone could say no to him—though I doubted that it happened very often.

“Thanks,” I said, but instead of feeling relieved I only found myself more worried. “The danger is real this time”? Like it wasn’t last time I worked for Trent?

The moist heat and the sound of cicadas hit me when I got out, the old trees that blocked the sun serving to trap the moisture as well. I glanced across the street to Keasley’s house, hoping Trent and Quen would just leave. I didn’t like them being this close to Ceri. I didn’t know anything about elves. Hell, they might be able to smell each other if they got close enough.

I pulled my attention back to Trent as I hitched my bag higher and started for the church. There was a van at the curb, and I frowned at the sign proudly proclaiming WE SPECIALIZE IN EXORCISM. Great. Ju-u-u-u-ust great. Now the entire street knew we had a problem.

I spun when the sound of a car door closing thumped through the muggy air. Trent was out and was circling to the limo’s back. My blood pressure spiked. “I said no,” I repeated loudly.

“Having a problem with your church?” he asked, lifting the trunk when it popped open.