He was wearing black, his outfit suggesting a uniform, but its design supple enough for ease of motion and comfort. He looked good, in a late-forties way, and if I ever needed a role model, Quen would do nicely. If he hadn’t been working for Trent, that is.

“So how you doin’?” I asked Quen, and the usually stoic man let slip a glimmer of a smirk. Trent wouldn’t be able to see it from his angle, and I wondered if Quen had a sense of humor I hadn’t guessed at.

“I’m fine, Ms. Morgan,” he said calmly, his voice as rough as his pockmarked skin. “You’re looking…” He hesitated, taking a long glance at me as he slowed in bridge traffic. “What have you done to yourself? You look…glowing with health.”

I flushed. He had noticed I’d lost my freckles along with every imperfection my soon-to-be-twenty-five years of living had bestowed on me, an unexpected benefit of shifting forms by way of a demon curse. “It’s a long story,” I said, not wanting to go into it.

“I’d be interested to hear,” he prompted, his rough voice taking on a hint of accusation.

From the back came Trent’s calculated sigh. Thinking I’d pushed him enough—and not wanting to continue this conversation with Quen—I pulled a dirt-stained knee up and twisted around so I could see Trent. “Look, Trent,” I said dryly. “I know you want me to work security during your wedding, and the answer is no. I appreciate the ride home, but you’re nuts if you think that’s going to soften me up enough to get stupid. I’m not one of your fawning debutantes—”

“I never said you were,” he interrupted. It was a soft protest, as if he liked the fact.

“And I’m not going to be a freaking bridesmaid in your wedding. You couldn’t pay me enough.” I hesitated, cursing my fate that he always seemed to show up when I needed large sums of money. Is it luck, or does he wait until I’m short? “Ah, it is a paying position, right? I mean, the dresses are generally god-awful, but you usually don’t have to pay the bridesmaids to put them on.”

Trent reclined in the back of the limo, relaxed and sure of himself, knees crossed and looking like he was at the top of his game. “It would be if you took it.”

My jaw ached, and I worked to ease my tension as my thoughts returned to my church and the cost of resanctifying it. Trent had pockets so deep he wouldn’t blink an eye. It wasn’t fair to ask Ivy to shoulder so much of the financial burden when it had been my fault.