“You know I want to go,” she said, and I nodded. Quen had been bitten by a vampire and had an unbound scar. To ask him to overlook Ivy’s presence wasn’t going to happen.

“I’ll call you when I know something,” I said. I hesitated before her, not knowing what else to say, and when Jenks landed on my earring, I headed down the stairs. Seeing me going to the carport, Trent rolled down his window and called, “I’ll drive you out, Morgan.”

“I’m taking my car,” I countered, never slowing. “I’m not going to get stuck at your compound with no way home.”

“Suit yourself,” he said dryly, then rolled the window up. The hazard lights flicked off, and he waited for me.

I looked to Ivy, who was standing beside Jenks’s pumpkin. Somewhere between me opening the door to find Trent and me getting to my car, it had gone out. She didn’t look happy, but neither did I. “I hope she’s okay,” I said as I opened my car door.

“I’m more worried about us, Rache,” said Jenks.

Getting in, I slammed the door and settled myself. “Tom’s a weenie,” I said softly. “He’s not going to call Al.”

Jenks’s wings cooled my neck. “What if someone else does?”

I started the car, the engine rumbling to life with the sound of security. “Thanks, Jenks. I really needed that.”

Twenty

The long road just off the interstate to Trent’s house/corporate office was busy. The two-lane road wound and twisted its way through a sprawling, planned old-growth forest. Having run for my life through it once with dogs and horses chasing me, it had lost much of its appeal.

The ride out here had been fast and quiet once we got out of the city. Jenks had maintained a pensive silence after I suggested he peacefully stay at the outer gate and meet me inside when he managed to slip the guards. That had been a mere five minutes ago, and I missed the pixy already. Worried, I glanced at my shoulder bag on the seat beside me. I’d leave it open so he could duck in when he showed up. I’d be stupid to think Trent didn’t expect Jenks to try to circumvent their security, but it would be one way to prove to Trent he was doing himself a disservice by shunning pixies as security specialists. With Quen dying, he was going to have to come up with something.

Quen is really dying? I thought, feeling guilty for not taking Trent seriously yesterday. And why does he think it’s my fault?

My gaze dropped to the speedometer, and I tunked it down to keep from running into Trent. And as the multistory, sprawling complex of offices and business research buildings came into view, I slowed to a crawl, surprised.