He was afraid, and I shoved my own fear aside. I knew I’d seen Bis and Buddy with my eyes closed, both of them on the floor as Trent carried me out. It had been a compilation vision of at least a dozen mystics, cobbled together and presented to me in a way that my mind could interpret naturally—sophisticated and practiced. They weren’t the Goddess’s mystics, but the ones that Newt trapped in reality so they couldn’t poison the Goddess. They were alone and unable to become, but the alternative was their complete obliteration. But had I heard them? No, the connection had not been that deep.

“No,” I said softly, and Trent breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good,” he said, his fingers finding mine in the dark as we walked to the church, lights flickering on inside to show where Ivy was. “I don’t think you should do wild elf magic.”

I gave him a sideways look as I opened the door. “You think?” The warmth and light spilled out, and I squinted as we went inside. Trent’s hand was on the small of my back, and I listened for not-there voices telling me about the scatter pattern of the photons, but my thoughts were silent. Safe? I thought, then, with a touch of melancholy, a more certain empty.

“Oh, Rachel,” Trent said, somehow knowing as he pulled me into a hug right there in the foyer. “I’m so sorry.”

He wasn’t talking about tonight, and I tucked my head against his shoulder, breathing in the spicy scent of wine and cinnamon under the reek of burnt amber. I refused to cry, even though I ached. It was stupid to cry over something that would hurt me if I had it. It hadn’t been a choice between the mystics and Trent, though that’s how Newt saw it. Keeping them would have destroyed the Goddess and changed me beyond what anyone could handle.

“I’d give them up again in a heartbeat,” I said, and he tilted his head to give me a kiss. My eyes closed as our lips met. Tingles followed by a swath of warmth plinked through me, and I pressed into him as my arms went around his neck. Even if it had been a choice between them and Trent, I would’ve taken Trent. I didn’t have to explain things to him, and he knew how tight to hold, when to go along with an idea, and when to slow me down so I could think.

The vibrating hum of his phone was almost unheard, but I dropped back to my heels. Too bad I’ll only drag him down from what he could be.