It was going to be a long night, and I almost cried when we finally got to Trent’s office. Dali was in there, and I tried not to lean on Trent as he opened the door. The couch Trent had put in last week for short catnaps never looked better, and I gave Dali a swift nod, heart pounding as I moved as fast as I could and almost fell into it. Leather-scented air puffed up around me, and I thought it smelled wrong without a little vampire incense in with it.

“Dali,” Trent said cautiously, and the older, somewhat fat demon turned from where he’d been looking at the colorful saltwater fish in the wall tank behind Trent’s desk.

“How very elven,” Dali said softly, eyes flicking behind Trent to Al and Newt. “Keeping all his beautiful captives on display.”

The rims of Trent’s ears went red. “Everything in that tank was captive bred. Nothing came from the wild.”

Simpering, Dali settled himself behind the desk as if it was his. “That makes it worse.”

I could tell Dali sitting at his desk bothered Trent as he rubbed the side of his nose and went to feed the fish, his motions slow as he took a canister of food from a drawer inches from Dali’s foot. “Why are all of you here?” Trent said, his back to everyone as he sifted the food in and the rest of his fish came out of hiding.

Newt settled herself gracefully in the remaining chair, leaving Al and Trent standing. “Last in, last out,” she said cryptically. “Dali’s line was the last formed, so it was the last to go.”

I tried to shift my leg up off the floor, deciding to let it stay where it was when I almost passed out. “What about my line?” I asked when I could think again.

Al harrumphed, fists at the small of his back as he stood before the big vid screen showing an empty paddock at night. “Last line formed while fleeing the ever-after,” he explained. “Which might be why you are able to perform magic, and we can’t.”

“My line still exists?” I said, and Al shook his head. The lines were dead. There was no question as to how I could still do magic, and Dali wasn’t happy—even with Al’s lie as to why.

“Now, Gally,” Newt almost pouted, shifting her robe to hide the welts the makeshift cuffs at the square had given her. “You know that’s not why Rachel was able to do magic.”

“It wasn’t mystics,” Dali growled.

“I didn’t have any choice,” I said in a rush, seeing Al stiffen. “They’re dead. All the lines.”