I didn’t have anything to do until about six, when I would start getting ready for my run, so after putting the top back on Jenks’s honey, I pulled a foot up onto my chair and clasped an arm around a knee. “Sure. What?”

A faint hint of pink on her cheeks, she asked, “Did it hurt when Ivy bit you?”

I stiffened, and Jenks—his eyes closed—started mumbling, “No, no, no. Damn vampire made it feel good. Ah, crap, I’m tired.”

Swallowing, I met her eyes. “No. Why?”

Her lower lip turned in, and, biting it to look charming, Ceri grew solemn. “You should never be ashamed of loving someone.”

My blood pressure spiked. “I’m not,” I said defensively.

I was belligerent because I was afraid, but instead of responding with an equal amount of ire, she unexpectedly dropped her eyes. “I’m not finding fault with you,” she said softly. “I…envy you. And you need to know that.”

My fingers laced about my knee tightened. Me? She envies my screwed-up life?

“You say you don’t trust people,” Ceri rushed to explain, her vivid green eyes pleading for understanding. “But you do trust. You trust too much. You give everything even when you’re afraid. And I envy that. I don’t think I could ever love anyone without fear…now.”

Jenks hiccupped. “Aw, Ceri. It’s okay. I love you.”

“Thank you, Jenks,” Ceri said, sitting primly in her chair. “But it would never work. Your body is not as big as your heart, and much as I’d like to think I am a soul and a mind, I have a body that needs to be satisfied as well.”

“The hell I’m not big enough!” he protested, lurching up. Only one wing was working, and it almost knocked him over. “You just ask Matalina.” The pixy went pale. “Never mind.”

Ceri poured out some tea, the amber liquid gurgling with the sound of contentment to stand at contrast with my unease. I slowly pulled my second knee up to my first. “Jenks, sit down,” I murmured when his staggering path toward the honey went off track and he angled for the table’s edge. Glad for the distraction, my thoughts drifted to Trent and Ellasbeth’s marriage. I was reaching for Jenks when he collapsed into the napkins and pulled one over his head.

Why hadn’t I told Trent about Ceri? Or Ceri about Trent? I was a lousy judge of character, but even I could tell that the two seemed made for each other. Trent wasn’t that bad. Though he had kept me caged as a mink. And put me in the fights. And tricked me into trying to take Piscary down by myself, though some of that stupidity was my fault.

I pulled another ribbon of pastry from a roll. Trent had treated me with respect the night I’d been his paid bodyguard, then kept me alive during the aftermath. He’d trusted me to take care of Lee on my own instead of killing him like he wanted to. Though if I had let Trent kill his friend, I wouldn’t be playing bodyguard at his wedding…probably.