Jenks’s wings made spurts of cool wind on my neck, and the tension escalated. Ceri tapped a line, and her hair shifted in a breeze that touched only her. I thought I sensed a metallic taste on my tongue. My face cold, I looked over the sanctuary as if expecting a demon to melt into existence, but then my gaze fell upon Ceri, and I blanched.

“Holy crap…” Jenks breathed, his wings going absolutely motionless.

Ceri had gone deathly still, gathering intent and power about her as if supplementing her damaged aura. Her undeniable beauty was like that of a fairy, savage and pale, face hollow, hard, and unyielding. Quen didn’t move as she closed in on Trent, near enough that her hair mingled with his. Near enough that she could pull his aura into her as she breathed.

“I am black,” she said, and a shudder rippled through me. “I am foul with a thousand years of demon curses. Don’t cross me or I will bring you and your house down. Rachel is the only clean thing I have, and you won’t sully her to further your high ideas. Understand?”

A hard expression replaced Trent’s shock, reminding me of who he was and what he was capable of. “You’re not who I though you would be,” he said, and Ceri let a cruel smile curve the corners of her mouth.

“I’m your worst nightmare come to walk this side of the lines. I’m an elf, Trent, something you’ve forgotten how to be. You’re scared of black magic. I can see fear shimmering under your aura like sweat. I live and breathe black magic. I’m so tainted with it that I will use it without thought, without guilt, and without hesitation.”

She stepped forward into his space, and Trent moved back. “Leave Rachel alone,” she said, the words soft as rain and as commanding as a god’s.

Ceri reached to touch him, and in a blinding fast motion, Quen bolted forward.

I took a breath to shout a warning, but Ceri spun, hurling a black ball of ever-after. “Finire!”

“Ceri!” I exclaimed, then cowered when it hit the circle Quen flung up and exploded into black sparkles.

Clearly ticked, Ceri strode to Quen, Latin spilling from her like black smoke. “Quis custodiet ipsos custodies?” she said wrathfully, then plunged a tiny white fist into his circle.

Quen stared in shock as his circle fell.

“Finire,” Ceri said tightly, reaching for him, and when Quen grasped her wrist to do something, he froze, then dropped to the hardwood floor, out cold.

“Holy crap!” Jenks chirped from the rafters, and Ceri looked away from Quen. Anger made her pale beauty terrible.

“Ceri,” I coaxed, then stopped when she rounded on me.

“Shut up!” she said, long hair flying. “I’m angry at you, too. No one has ever shoved me before in my entire life.”