My trial was Sunday night, and I met Jenks’s and Ivy’s eyes. This had all the earmarks of the tip of an iceberg. Trent was in trouble with the biggest elf family on the West Coast. And though he hadn’t blamed me, I might have had some part in it. Guilt licked at my soul. I had a really bad feeling about this.

“Will you do it?” Trent asked. He sounded angry but not at me, and I could hear a whisper of past arguments with Quen in his tone. Though Trent was the boss, Quen ran Trent’s life, had since Trent’s father died. It had to rankle when the only way Quen would let him go would be with me.

“No,” I said, sitting up straighter. “The last time I worked for you willingly, the boat blew up. That water was cold.”

“Atta girl, Rache!” Jenks exclaimed, and Ivy leaned over to whisper a question to Quen.

Trent’s expression was empty. “I kept you alive, didn’t I?”

“Only so you could pound my head into a tombstone!”

“I was upset,” he said, avoiding my glare as he gazed at the parking lot we’d turned into. The sun shifted to him, making his embarrassment easy to read.

“I had just saved your life!” I said. “And you try to kill me for something I hadn’t done and wouldn’t do. No, I don’t think so. You’re spouting pretty words like ‘trust,’ but you don’t give it. I’m not going to help you get to the West Coast so you can run your personal errand. Especially if you are playing around with black magic.”

Trent’s eyes fixed on mine, his anger easy to read as he put one ankle on his knee, looking both cold and professional. “Ceri does black magic. You like her.”

I squinted at him. “Ceri has morals,” I said, and Quen winced. “I might not understand them half the time, but she’s got them. You…” I almost poked Trent in the chest, turning the motion into a quick point. “I don’t trust you.”

“You need me,” Trent said, playing it like it was his last card, desperate despite his attempts to hide his stress. “If I’m with you, the coven will be less inclined to take potshots at you. I’ll admit that my dealings with you to date have been less than aboveboard.” His jaw clenched. “I’m trying to change that. If not for me, you wouldn’t even have this chance to clear your name. I swear, Rachel, that my business on the West Coast has nothing to do with you.”

My foot braced against the carpet as the car gently halted. I looked up, seeing the back of my mom’s car. Finally.

“Thanks. I have it from here,” Ivy said with her usual calm control. Opening her door, she slipped out. Jenks followed her, shrilling something about his kids. Quen, too, got out, and the trunk whined as it opened. Ivy had a set of keys to my mom’s Buick, and she opened the trunk, taking my garment bag as Quen handed it to her. Reaching for the door, I picked up my shoulder bag.