“My situation,” I scoffed. Agitated, I slid from the counter to throw the coupons away. Pizza had the appeal of cardboard right now. “There aren’t any laws for demons,” I said, fidgeting. “And if there aren’t any laws for demons, I can’t break them. I don’t need a license to practice magic. I’m not shunned. I can sell stuff now. People can sell to me.”

“But will they?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he gave voice to my real worry.

Probably not. “The I.S. is off my case, and the vamps. Jeez, Trent. For the first time, there is no one gunning for me, including you!” I protested.

“I’ll give you that.” Trent was smiling, Lucy drowsing on his lap. “But along with no legislation on the books for demons and their magic, there are no laws protecting you, either. If Rynn Cormel wanted, he could drive over here, shove you in his trunk, and drive away.”

I leaned back against the counter and crossed my arms over my middle. “That’s the last thing he is going to do,” I said, not sure I believed it.

“Probably, but he could.” Trent was looking at Lucy, but talking to me. “Anyone could. A stray dog has more legal protection than you.” His eyes met mine, and I stifled a shiver, knowing he was right. “That band of silver around your wrist makes you almost helpless, and anyone with enough smarts will know it. There are no laws that pertain directly to demons, and until there are, you are vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable.” There was that word again, and it rang through me like a warning bell. The stronger I got, the more vulnerable I was.

“You take favors from me,” he said, “but you are not on my payroll. You claim to be protected by a master vampire, but you have no ties of blood, and you saw how deep Cormel’s word went when he was confronted by the coven. Ivy can’t protect you from everything, either. You’re the alpha female of a Were pack, but you don’t live with David and refuse to take a tattoo to show affiliation.”

“What if I get the tattoo?” I said, hearing the truth in his words. “I didn’t before because it wouldn’t last through a transformation curse, but I don’t have to worry about that now.”

“A tattoo isn’t going to fix this,” he said, his eyes intently on mine. “You are a demon, but you can’t perform the magic to back yourself up. I’m not telling you that you need to take that charmed silver off to survive, but I’m asking you to stay out of trouble for a while. Lay low for about six months. I’m trying to get some legislation protecting you pushed through, but it’s going to take a while.”

Stunned, I looked at him sitting in my kitchen with a baby on his lap, his dress pants wrinkled and his shirt almost untucked. I didn’t know what to say. He was helping me? For nothing? “Why?” I asked, and he stood, agitated as he began to pace with a sleeping Lucy.