“You’d stop trying to tag me?” Trent said softly, and then went still an unvoiced thought. His lips parted, and he looked at Quen in wonder. “She has the focus,” he said to him, then turned to me, amused. “That’s what you’re going to give Piscary. You have the focus,” he said around his laugh. “I should have known it was you!”

My face went cold, and I felt my stomach drop. Oh, shit.

I stood upright when Quen shifted to stand between us—maneuvering.

“Stop!” I said, my hand outstretched, and he did. Heart pounding, I held him off with my fingers splayed, trying to figure it out. Trent was the one killing the Weres?

“You killed Brett?” I said, seeing him flush. “It was you!” I exclaimed, dropping my hand and warming in anger. Damn it, what had I almost done? What in hell was wrong with me? This couldn’t be happening!

“I didn’t kill him. He killed himself,” Trent said, his jaw clenched. “Before he could tell me you had it,” he finished, hands behind his back.

Quen was balanced with his weight on his toes, his arms loose at his side. As if in a dream, I said to him, “You killed Brett. And Mr. Ray’s secretary. And Mrs. Sarong’s aide.”

Quen’s face darkened with guilt, and his muscles tensed.

“You sons of bitches,” I whispered, not wanting to believe it, cursing myself for wanting Trent to be better than he was, wanting both of them to be better than murderers and assassins. “I thought you had more honor than this, Quen.”

The older elf’s jaw clenched.

“We didn’t kill them,” Trent said, defending himself, and I snorted with derision. “They committed suicide,” he insisted, the devil in his perfect suit and perfect hair. “Every last one of them. None of them had to die. They could have told me.”

As if it made a difference. “They didn’t know I had it!”

Trent took a step forward, finger pointing, and Quen pulled him back. “This is a war, Rachel,” the younger man said tightly, shaking off Quen’s grip. “There will be casualties.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “This is not a war. This is you angling for more power. God, Trent, how much more do you need! Are you so insecure that you have to be king of the freaking world to feel safe?”

I thought of my church and my friends, and I lifted my chin. Yeah, they had killed people, but Ivy was trying to get out, and Jenks had to in order to ensure his and his children’s survival. And seeing as I had pretty much sacrificed Lee in order to survive, I couldn’t claim I was pristine and pure either. But I’d never killed for money or power—and neither had my friends.