The door to Trent’s office smashed into the wall. Adrenaline surged painfully, and I fell into a defensive stance. Quen burst in. “Sa—Sir,” he barked, changing his title Sa’hanu, mid-speech. He jerked to a stop, his eyes narrowing as he took in my tense posture in the corner and Edden sitting in his chair with my phone at his ear, carefully not moving one inch.

The man’s green eyes fixed upon mine. My heart pounded. Our defensive postures eased, and I tugged my skirt down where it belonged. The door arched closed as Jenks darted in.

“Hey, Rache!” the pixy cried, his wings red in excitement. “Someone’s found a ley line and it’s got someone in an unholy snit.” He stopped short, taking in the tense room. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, grinning. Wings clattering, he lit upon my shoulder, quickly abandoning me for Edden and the chance to overhear what Nick was saying.

Trent leaned forward to put his elbows on the desk. A bead of sweat edged his hairline. I tried to swallow, finding my mouth dry. “Ms. Morgan is demonstrating her ley line skills for us,” Trent said. “I’m very interested to see.”

I’ll bet you are, I thought, wondering how deep in the pile I had stepped. Ley line magic was used heavily in security, and Quen had known the moment I found it.

Uneasy, I took the opportunity to examine everyone’s auras with my second sight. Jenks’s was all rainbows, as most pixies’ were. Edden’s was a steady blue tending to yellow about his head. Quen’s was a green so dark as to be almost black, shot through with vibrant orange streaks about his middle and his hands—not good. Jonathan’s was green as well, much lighter and almost bland in its uniformity and shade. Trent’s …I hesitated, faltering.

Trent’s aura was sunshine yellow, streaked with a sharply defined red. The crimson slashes hinted that he had more than his share of soul-marring tragedy in his past. It was unusually close around him, rimmed in silver sparkles, like Ivy’s was. They burst into existence and floated about him when he took a hand and ran it across his head to make his hair lie flat. He was looking for something—the way the sparkles embedded themselves in his main aura indicating that he had dedicated his life to this search. The money, the power, the drive, was all to serve a higher purpose. What was he looking for? I wondered.