This is a mess, I thought, washing the pastry down with a swallow of cold coffee. Ceri could decide what she wanted to do. And if Trent used her, I’d freaking kill him. And because I was gaining his trust, I could probably get close enough to do it. Which was a terrifying thought.

My heart beat faster, and I wiped my fingers on a napkin. “Ceri?” I said, and she looked up expectantly. Rex was still on her lap, and her fingers were gentling the animal. Taking a steadying breath, I said, “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Her green eyes met mine, and a smile grew. “Who?”

I looked at Jenks, but he was out of it, sleeping under the napkins. “Uh, Trent.” My chest clenched, and I prayed I was doing the right thing. “See, he’s an elf.”

Beaming, Ceri pushed Rex to the floor so she could lean across the table. The cat stalked out of the room, and the scent of wine and cinnamon filled me when Ceri gave me a quick hug. “I know,” she said as she leaned back and smiled at me. “Thank you, Rachel.”

“You knew?” I said, warm from embarrassment. God, she must think me an insensitive boob, but she settled herself in her chair and smiled as if I had just given her a pony. And a puppy. And then the freaking moon. “Kalamack, right?” I stammered. “We’re talking about the same Trent? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You gave me back my soul,” she said, her hair drifting. “And with it the chance to redeem my sins. I look to you for guidance. Until you approved of him, it would have caused problems. You made no attempt to hide that you don’t like him.”

She smiled shyly, and I stared. “You knew he was an elf?” I asked, still not believing it. “How? He doesn’t know about you!” At least I don’t think he does.

Embarrassed, she pulled her feet up under her to sit cross-legged, looking both wise and innocent. “I saw him in a magazine last winter, but you didn’t like him.” Her eyes flicked to mine and then back down. “I knew he had hurt you. Keasley told me he controls the Brimstone trade, and, like anything in excess, it’s damaging. But, Rachel, how can you condemn all the good for a little bad?” she said, not a hint of pleading in her voice. “It’s been illegal for thirty-two years out of five thousand and is a blatant way for humans to try to control Inderland.”

When you put it like that, Trent almost sounded respectable. Bothered, I leaned back. “Did Keasley tell you he blackmails people using illegal genetic research? That his Make-A-Wish camps are underground genetic labs where he helps children in order to blackmail their parents?”

“Yes. He also told me that Trent’s father cured your blood disease because your father was his friend. Don’t you think you owe him a debt of gratitude?”