“Rachel …”

My eyes narrowed. “Don’t mess with me, Glenn. Trent asked for this meeting.”

The faint worry lines around Glenn’s eyes deepened. I could see his thoughts warring among themselves. I wouldn’t have bothered telling him at all except he probably would have called in everyone from his dad to the bomb squad when he saw me with Trent.

“Are we clear on this?” I asked belligerently, and he stepped off the toilet.

“If I find out you lied to me—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I turned to go.

He reached for me. I felt his hand coming and jerked away, spinning. I shook my head in warning, but his eyes were wide at how fast I had moved. “You just don’t get it, do you?” I said. “I am not human, this is Inderland business, and you are in way over your head.” And with that thought to keep him awake at night, I strode back out into the sunlight, trusting he would keep an eye on me and not get in my way.

My arms swung as I attempted to dispel the last of the adrenaline, and my skin seemed to prickle as Jonathan’s eyes fell on me. Ignoring him, I tried to spot where Quen had hidden himself as I made my way to the concrete bridge. On the other side of the twin ponds was Trent upon his blanket. He still had that book in his hand, but he knew I was here. He was going to make me wait, which was fine by me. I wasn’t ready for him yet.

Deep in the shadows of the bridge ran a wide ribbon of fast water connecting the two ponds. My foot hit the bridge, and the puddle of purple amidst the current shuddered.

“Heyde-hey,” I said, stopping just shy of the bridge’s apex. Yeah, it was kind of stupid, but it was the traditional greeting between trolls. If I was in luck, Sharps would still have possession of this bridge.

“Heyde-ho,” said the dark puddle of water, pulling itself up in a series of ripples until a dripping, craggy face showed. Algae grew on his otherwise bluish skin and his fingernails were white with the mortar he scraped from the bottom of the bridge to supplement his diet.

“Sharps,” I said, truly pleased as I recognized him by his one white eye, blinded by a past fight. “How’s the water flowing?”

“Officer Morgan,” he said, sounding tired. “Can you wait until sundown? I promise I’ll leave tonight. The sun is too bright right now.”

I smiled. “It’s just Rachel now. I quit the I.S. And don’t move on account of me.”

“You did?” The puddle of water sank back down until only a mouth and good eye showed. “That’s fine. You’re a nice girl. Not like the warlock they have now, coming at noon with electric prods and clangy bells.”

I winced in sympathy. Trolls had extremely sensitive skin that kept them out of direct light most of the time. They tended to destroy whatever bridge they were under, which was why the I.S. continually chased them out. But it was a losing battle. As soon as one left, another took his place, and then there was a fight when the original troll wanted his home back.