Silent, Trent shifted in his seat as he angled the vents away from himself. Sighing, I looked in the back at Vivian, slumped between my vampire roommate and my black-magic-using, shunned, demon-familiar beau whom I didn’t trust.

All the black magic that I’d done in front of Vivian—asked her to help with; maybe now that she’d seen what they faced if they ignored the coming problem with the demons, they might think more kindly of me. Maybe having Ku’Sox attack us would help my case. Would they really try to kill me if there were worse uglies out there, uglies they couldn’t handle? People had died in the last few days, but not because of my magic, and more would have died if I had feigned ignorance and let Ku’Sox do whatever the hell he wanted.

“You sure you know what you’re doing, Trent?” I whispered, hoping he knew I was talking about Ku’Sox, and his fingers stiffened slightly. “I won’t say it’s not like you, because using dangerous things like they’re flash paper has you written all over it, but do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Jenks was basking in the new warmth, but his eyes flicked from mine to Trent.

“Is it Ceri?” I guessed. “Are you trying to impress her? Be the elf she thinks you should be?”

Lips twitching, Trent ran a hand over his head to get his vent-blown hair to lay flat. It was one of his tells, and he caught himself, lowering his hand to grip the wheel. “I have my reasons,” he said simply.

“Yeah, because you don’t trust me to keep you alive.” I set the bottle in the cup holder and put my boots on the dash, knees bent as I tried to find a comfortable position.

“Trust has nothing to do with it,” Trent said as he glanced at my boots, and Jenks made a rude noise. “I trust you, Rachel. I never would have left Cincinnati if I didn’t. I trust you, though you’re quick tempered and jump to conclusions too fast. God knows why.”

My brow smoothed out, and I took my feet down. “Really?”

He gave me a sidelong glance. “It’s important to you, isn’t it?”

I looked out at the world starting to go from black to gray. “Yes, it is. No one likes to be given a compliment, then find out it’s fake.”

A small noise came from Trent, and he frowned. “I never thought of it like that. Sorry.”

“Tink’s a Disney whore,” Jenks swore from the ashtray. “Did he just say he was sorry?”

Trent glanced at him in irritation, but I was grinning. “Shhhh, don’t ruin the moment, Jenks,” I said. “It might never come again.”

Trent chuckled, his good mood returning. I could fix that, though, and after a moment, I asked again, very softly, “So why did you do it?” You little goober, I added in my head.

Eyes on the mountains, he was silent. “I didn’t do it because I didn’t trust you. I did it because he’s part of my…quest,” he finally said, clearly embarrassed.