“Good enough,” I said, hearing Trent’s exasperated sigh from the back.

My hand went to the handle, but Ivy’s was already there.

“I am not sitting in the back with Trent,” she said, eyes narrowing in warning. Behind her, Jenks pantomimed being hanged.

“Oh, for Tink’s diaphragm!” the pixy said. “What is wrong with you women?”

The trunk popped open with a slow whine, and I went around back to stow the garment bag nice and flat. Quen met me back there, and I handed it to him. “Thanks,” I said softly as Ivy and Jenks got in the front seat, arguing. The door slammed, and Quen gently put my dress into the trunk, already holding a bland but expensive-looking piece of luggage. We had only a moment. Time for only one question. Licking my lips, I blurted out, “Did Trent send those elves yesterday to persuade me to help him?”

Quen met my eyes, a lifetime of nobility in them. “No,” he said simply. “I’d feel better if he had, though.”

My shoulders slumped, and I didn’t move as he eased the trunk closed and the power lock whined as it shut. Squinting, I looked up at a plane taking off, roaring overhead to who knew where. Portland, maybe. My gaze dropped to the bustle of people. Life was going on, and no one but a handful of people cared if I lived or died.

“Yeah. Me, too,” I said with a sigh. Feeling trapped, I went to the door that Quen opened for me and slid into the leather-scented darkness.

Four

If looks could kill, my face would show the imprint of Jenks’s thoughts. The irate pixy was sitting on the rearview mirror of Trent’s big black car, heels thumping the glass and scowling at me as a green dust sifted from him, sparkling in the sun before it hit the dash to make an evil puddle, then spilling to the floor. Ivy was in the front passenger seat, talking softly to Quen about the success he’d had with Trent’s highly experimental treatment to make vampire neurotoxins dormant. I could tell it bothered Trent that they were discussing the illegal, high-risk procedure, and the only reason it didn’t bother me was because it wouldn’t help Ivy in her quest to be free of her vampirism. She was a vampire, and making the neurotoxins dormant in her wouldn’t save her soul when she died.

No, she expected me to do that.

Crossing my knees, I looked out the tinted window. We were passing through a weird mix of airport and industry on our way to long-term parking, and I felt cut off. The light making it through the tint was ugly, and it made me uneasy. No one was looking at us. We were just another black car. That made me uncomfortable, too.

From the far side of the backseat, Trent said, “Quen, could we have the roof open?”

Their conversation never hesitated as Quen touched a button and the small square of roof slid back to let the wind and sun roll in. I couldn’t stop my sigh of relief, and I settled back into the comfortable leather. I hadn’t meant to telegraph my unease, but I thought it telling that Trent was trying to make me more comfortable. Taking a deep breath, I tucked a stray curl behind my ear and looked at him. I’d called his bluff and was still alive. It must irritate him to no end.