“Where do you want it?” the demon asked, and I wondered why, unless it was more degrading to look at it every day knowing you asked for it, rather than have it forced on you. I felt the raised circle on the inside of my wrist, thinking I had to get rid of one of these soon.

His eyes never leaving Minias’s, Trent shoved his sleeve up to show a lightly muscled arm, toned and sun-darkened. Minias grabbed his wrist, and Trent flinched at the knife the demon suddenly held, jerking only once as he scribed a circle bisected with a single line into him. I thought I smelled the acidic scent of blood and the rich aroma of cinnamon. I glanced at Ivy—her pupils were dilating as Quen looked at her in disgust.

“Tell me of Rachel’s father,” Minias said, his hand still around Trent’s wrist. The mark had stopped bleeding, and Trent was staring at it, shocked that it looked old and long healed.

“Give me the way to cross the lines,” he said, his gaze jerking up to Minias’s.

The demon’s eye twitched. “It’s in your head,” he said. “Just say the words of invocation, and you and whoever is with you will cross the lines. Now tell me of Rachel’s sire. If I don’t think it worth the imbalance of four trips through the lines, I’ll simply upgrade your mark and give you a second slash.”

I fidgeted, and my mother shook off Marshal’s restraint. Damn it, Takata. I’m sorry. Trent was a bastard. I was going to get him for this.

“The man who raised her was human,” he said, staring at Minias. “I found out when he came to my father asking for a cure. I have Morgan’s father’s medical records, but there’s no name on them. I don’t know who he is.”

Keasley and Marshal looked shocked that my dad wasn’t a witch, but my lips parted in wonder. Trent had…lied? My mother was sagging in relief, and I reached behind me until I touched the wall of ever-after, leaning my hand against it for support. He hadn’t told. He hadn’t told Minias. Trent had lied.

Minias’s attention flicked to me and back again. His grip on Trent tightened. “Who’s her birth father?” he asked, and Trent’s gaze grew wild.

“Ask her,” he said, and my heart seemed to start beating again. “She knows.”

“Not enough,” Minias said, knowing he was lying. “Tell me…or you’re mine.”

My fear redoubled. Did he expect me to save his ass by blurting it out?