My gaze went to Jon, who was grinning as if my saying yes would please him immensely. Quen’s expression had gone dark. He was mad, but what had he really expected me to do? Still, I did want to get out of here on my own power and not at the end of an I.S. leash, arrested for harassment…or whatever Trent wanted. He might own the I.S. now that Piscary was gone.

“Take it any way you want,” I said. “You are scum. Absolute scum, and the world would be better without you.” I wasn’t sure I truly believed that, but it felt good saying it.

Trent thought for all of three seconds. “Sylvia, if we might have the room?”

I stood, smug, as the room emptied with soft murmurs of apologies given and reassurances offered.

“Jon,” he added as Sylvia headed out, “see that we are not disturbed.”

Sylvia hesitated by the open door, then vanished into the hallway to leave the door open. The older man’s craggy face went pale. He was being gotten rid of, and he knew it.

“Sa’han,” he started, cutting it short when Trent’s eyes narrowed. What a sissy-pants.

Jon’s thin, long hands clenched as he shot me a look and left. The door shut softly behind him, and I turned to Trent, ready to blast him. I wasn’t about to air Ceri’s dirty laundry where it might get into the tabloids, but now, I could really say what I thought.

“I can’t believe you knocked Ceri up. God, Trent! You are unbelievable!” I said, gesturing. “She is just starting to rebuild herself. She doesn’t need this emotional crap!”

Trent glanced at Quen. The security officer had taken a wide-footed stance before the closed door, his arms loose at his sides and his face lacking emotion. Seeing his nonchalance, Trent stepped back onto the stage and began sifting through the charms. “None of this is your business, Morgan.”

“It became my business when you romanced information from my friend, knocked her up, then asked me to do something you’re afraid to,” I said, taking offense at his cavalier attitude.

Trent bent over the metallic ley line charms as he watched me through the mirror. “And what have I asked you to do?” he said, his voice rising and falling like a gust of rain.

My blood pressure spiked, and I stepped forward, halting when Quen cleared his throat. “You are despicable,” I said. “You know the chances that I’d go into the ever-after to help Ceri are a hundred times better than me going to help you. I’d hate you for that if nothing else. How cowardly is that? Manipulating someone into doing something you’re afraid to do yourself. A stinking coward, not willing to help your kin except for when you’re safe and secure in your little underground labs. You’re a mouse burger.”