“Yes, way!” Jenks was saying, and Pierce sighed, dropping back a step. “I about crapped my pants when I found out. No wonder Trent wouldn’t spill. That’s his kid. His and Ellasbeth’s. That’s what he was doing, Rache! We were baby snatching! Like elves used to in the old days!”

Trent had done the nasty with Ellasbeth? Ewwwwww.

Pierce seemed bored by it, but my mother was melting into a puddle of anticipation, her hands almost outstretched, as Trent made his way to us.

“It was some ancient elf quest to prove himself and become a man. He had to steal a baby and not get caught,” Jenks said, still too excited to land anywhere, and I couldn’t look away. No. Friggin’. Way. Trent had a kid?

“He stole her!” Jenks said, finally landing on my shoulder. “Right out of her crib. Like in the old days when they would leave changelings, but Trent only left a crumpled bit of paper in the crib. Rache, he sang this weird little song, and she just woke up and loved him.”

I had to admit that Trent seemed to know what he was doing as he patted the little girl to make her stop fussing. He looked up, his eyes meeting mine still holding a blissful happiness tempered with a severe protectiveness. “He traveled three thousand miles to steal a baby?”

“His baby! Not just any brat,” Jenks said, wings fanning my neck. “His and Ellasbeth’s. You got fairy farts in your ears? She was pregnant when you broke up their wedding. Lucy is the first elf baby to be born perfect, even before Ceri’s. The first without the demon curse, and every baby born after her will be perfect. Because of you.”

I licked my lips, and Pierce moved to make room for Trent. The next elf generation. Lucy was the beginning. That’s what Trent had meant. And it was because of me? No, it was because of Trent, Jenks, Ivy, and me. We’d done it together.

The noise of the auditorium seemed to fade as Trent scuffed to a halt before us, his ears red as he met everyone’s eyes. “Trent?” I managed, and then my mother broke down.

“Ohhh, let me hold her!” my mom exclaimed, hands reaching out.

Immediately everyone relaxed. Trent’s attention fell from me, focused entirely on his little girl as my mother came close. “Ms. Morgan,” Trent said, his hands changing position as he carefully moved his…daughter? “She’s a temperamental little thing. She might not like you.”

“Of course she’ll like me,” my mother huffed. People were watching, and onstage, the last of the coven members had assumed their places. My mother took Lucy, and the little girl began to cry, green eyes spilling over as she refused to look at my mother, searching until she found Trent, then making a face as if she’d been betrayed.

“Oh, dear,” my mother said, jiggling her carefully, knowing that it was a lost cause. “Such a beautiful thing you are. Don’t cry, sweetie. Your daddy is right there.”