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.

I couldn’t see my aura. Unless I was standing on a scrying mirror—which I would never do again. But I was sure Trent was looking at it, and I didn’t like that he could see the demon mark on my wrist pulsating with a nasty black smear, or that my aura, too, had those same ugly red streaks, or that apart from his sparkles, our auras were almost identical.

Edden looked warily between us, knowing something was going on but not what. Brow pinching, he shifted to the edge of his chair and had a terse, hushed conversation with Nick.

“You have a ley line running through your office?” I said, light-headed.

“You have one in your backyard,” Trent answered flatly. Jaw tightening, he glanced at Edden. I could almost see his wish that the FIB captain wasn’t there. His expression was laced with a threatening warning. It wasn’t publicized that only humans and witches could manipulate ley lines, but anyone could figure it out, and I knew he wanted me to shut up about them. I was more than willing to, knowing that having the information was like holding a cobra by the tail.

My fingers were trembling from adrenaline, and I clenched them into fists as I turned to the three-foot-wide smear of ever-after running through Trent’s office. It made an east to west swath before his desk, more accurate than any compass, and I imagined it probably ran through his back office, too. As soon as I stepped into it, I could make an educated guess.

Sweat broke out on the small of my back as I eyed the line. I’d never put myself in one before. Unless you made the effort to tap into a line, you could walk right through it and feel nothing. I took a breath, willing myself to relax. If Algaliarept did show up, all I’d have to do was step out of the line. It couldn’t get out of the ever-after as long as the sun was above the horizon.