I moved to close the door, shocked when Trent put his foot in the way. I stopped Ivy’s reach to shove him back, and Trent’s tanned face reddened. Then, with what must have been a Herculean effort, he pulled his foot back and said in a much softer voice, “Why do you have to be difficult?”

“It keeps me alive,” I shot back, “but in this case it’s fun, too. I’m busy tonight. Get off my front steps so the kids can get up here.” How on earth had Jonathan let him come out here on his own? Trent seldom had an entourage, but I’d never seen him alone.

I shooed him off the steps, and his face took on a whisper of fear. “Please.”

Jenks rose up in a column of gold sparkles. “Sweet daisies, I think I’m going to crap my silk undies. The cookie maker said please.”

Trent’s eyes glinted in annoyance. “Please. I’m asking. I’m here for Quen, not myself, and most definitely not you.”

I took a breath to answer, but Jenks was way ahead of me. “Go suck a slug egg,” he snarled, unusually defensive. “Rachel doesn’t owe Quen anything.”

Actually, I sort of did—seeing as he saved my butt last year with Piscary—and the beginnings of shame trickled through me. Damn it. If I didn’t go visit Quen, I was going to feel guilty the rest of my life. I really hated this growing-up thing.

Ivy crossed her arms and cocked her hip. Trent dropped his gaze, steadying himself. When he brought his attention back to me, I saw a glimmer of fear, not for himself, but for Quen. “He isn’t going to live through the night,” he said, the calling children in the street a macabre contrast to his words. “He wants to speak to you. Please.”

Jenks saw me hesitate, and in a burst of anger, he lit my shoulder with gold sparkles. “Hell no, Rachel. He just wants to get you off hallowed ground so Al can kill you.”

I winced, thinking. Quen had given me information before, and people did weird stuff on their deathbed. Last confessions, that kind of thing. I knew I should stay on hallowed ground, but I’d been on and off it all night. I was going to go. I had to. Quen had known my dad. This might be my last and only chance to find out about him.

Ivy saw it in my face, and she grabbed her coat from the peg. “I’m going with you.”

My pulse quickened, and Trent’s expression turned confused at my change of heart.

“I’ll get your keys,” Jenks said.

“We’ll take my car,” Ivy countered, turning to get her purse.

“No,” Trent said, stopping her cold. “Only her. No pixies. No vampires. Just her.”

Majorly ticked, Ivy looked him up and down.