Ever After. Kim Harrison

hesitated, and then her eyes widened. Sitting atop my horse, I went hot. I don’t know what I want? Had I really just shouted that?

      “What you want . . .” Ceri echoed, the clops of the horses silent beneath us. “By the Goddess, you like him! Mother pus bucket, when did that happen!”

      Hearing Al’s cuss phrase come out of her was a shock, and flustered, I scrambled for something to say. “Uh . . .” I hedged, praying that neither Quen nor Trent turned around. “I think somewhere between him slugging Eloy and pie. But it doesn’t change anything.”

      “It changes everything,” she said, her upright stance returning as she thought the possibilities over. All for the state, yes, but she was a romantic at heart, and I could see where she was going. Damn it, she was thinking again. I had to stop this, and stop it now.

      “Ceri, look at me,” I pleaded. “I’ve had four relationships in two years. One was a thief, one died as a political gift, one walked away because I was shunned, and the last is a slave in the ever-after. I know you think this is perfect, but I come with a lot of baggage, and it would be a mistake to work for him.” I looked up, seeing the concern on her face as deep as her excitement had been. “He’d end up dead because of me, and you know it.”

      A wisp of pity showed in her eyes as she set Lucy’s bonnet straight. “Maybe you’re right.”

      It was what I wanted to hear, but it kind of hurt.

      “It’s simply that Trent is so important,” she said, voice wistful as she stared into space. “I know he feels he can ward off any attack, but he needs to set his pride aside. He’s more than he ever was, more than just himself.”

      There was a lump in my throat, and I wasn’t sure why. Yes, Trent had always been more than just himself. But that wasn’t what he wanted to be. I knew how that felt.

      The flash of Jenks’s dust over Quen and Trent caught my attention, and I wasn’t surprised when both of them pulled their mounts up short. Concern pushed out everything else when Quen’s horse nickered, feeling the tension of his rider. Trent was gazing into the canopy, and both Ceri and I urged our horses into a faster pace to catch up.

      “There’s something in the woods,” the pixy said as we joined them, and a chill dropped down my spine. “The birds are agitated, and the small mammals are hiding.”

      Ceri held Lucy closer. “Quen?” she questioned, and he shook his head, clearly at a loss as he scanned the trees. I shivered, and the sun-dappled shadows became fraught with doubt. Reaching out, I tapped a line, filling my chi and then spindling enough energy in my head to make a circle around all of us.

      “It’s probably just Nick,” I said, but Molly had felt my tension and was now stomping.

      Immediately Ceri seemed to lose her concern. “The slimy little worm,” she said sourly. “Quen, call security to dispatch him immediately. The thought of him here makes me ill.”

      “Ah . . . I talked to Al last night about Nick,” I started.

      Trent bobbed his head as if not surprised, but Quen turned in the saddle to face me straight on, an accusing look in his eyes. “And?”

      “See, I was going to tell you all at once,” I said, fidgeting with Molly’s reins. Jenks had darted away, and both girls were wiggling to find him. “Ku’Sox owns him. Won him in a bet.”

      Tulpa pranced in place, giving away Trent’s tension. “I wondered,” he said softly, eyes on the canopy. “Nick gained the labs once. He could do it again. I know for a fact it isn’t HAPA. Damn. He’s making demons.”

      I didn’t often hear Trent swear, and I nodded uneasily. “That’s what I think, too,” I said quietly. “In twenty years Ku’Sox will have at least eight day-walking demons who look to him for their very survival.”

      Quen glanced at Trent, and Trent nodded. “It’s up to twelve now,” Trent said, and Quen took Ray from him, the little girl settling in before her birth father with a serious air about her. “This is what I was afraid of. Ceri, I’m sorry but we are cutting our ride short.”

      “Trenton,” she protested.

      “You and Quen head back to the stables with the girls. If Nick is here, Rachel and I will draw him out. I’m the one he’s after. I’m the only one who can make the cure permanent.”

      Ceri began turning her horse around, but Quen was unmoving, his horse blocking the path ahead of us. “It’s not your place to draw out danger, Sa’han.”

      I, too, wasn’t keen on this plan, but for another reason. “Ah, I don’t think the cure is what Ku’Sox wants.”

      Trent pulled Tulpa up short, the black snorting at the rough motion. “If Ku’Sox didn’t want the cure, Nick wouldn’t be in the woods,” he said, words clipped. “And yes, it’s my place to draw out danger, just as it’s Rachel’s expertise to crush it.” He looked at me. “We will continue on.”

      Oh, I was all for crushing danger, but this was moving too fast. Maybe I’d picked up more of Ivy’s cautious planning than I’d thought. “Jenks!” I shouted, and got a wing chirp back.

      “Quen, it’s only Nick,” Ceri said, clearly wanting to get the girls out of the woods and possible danger.

      But still Quen stood there. “This is an ill-conceived plan. We don’t know if it’s Nick. What if it’s someone else?”

      The corner of Trent’s eye twitched, and he looked irate as Tulpa trotted in place under him. “You don’t trust Rachel’s skills?” he said, and I winced. “You went behind my back to buy them, Quen.” Clearly angry, he added in a softer voice, “I can’t risk any of you. Go. Let me do my job. Rachel?”

      Easing up on his hold on Tulpa, he let the horse bolt. Quen jerked his horse back from following, his expression as angry and dark as I’d ever seen it. Before him, Ray was silent, but Lucy was wailing her distress. Shrugging, I gave Molly a nudge.

      I glanced behind us to see Quen turning his horse back to the stables, Ceri sitting tall in her saddle with Lucy, waiting for her love to join her. I agreed with Trent. They had a perfect life, a perfect love when they’d both resigned themselves to having neither. It needed to be protected.

      Trent was silent when I joined him, and we continued on. My shoulders were tense, and I listened to the wind in the tops of the trees, their new leaves pale green and rustling. Jenks was up there somewhere. He had my back. The silence stretched, and I glanced at Trent. His jaw was tight, and the sun caught his hair in a come-and-go fashion. Something other than Nick was on his mind, his fierce determination reminding me of his satisfaction when he turned that HAPA member into a deformed, twisted mockery of a demon. Here, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky . . .

      Tulpa was a larger horse, and he was stepping out farther than Molly could comfortably walk. Trent was too distracted to notice. Jenks dropped down, and Trent absently corrected the uptight stallion when he shied. Used to it, Molly contented herself with flicking an ear.

      “Something is in the woods, huh?” I said as Jenks landed on the saddle pommel. “Do you know how creepy that is?”

      His sword was loosened in its scabbard, but he hadn’t pulled it. “I don’t know how else to say it, Rache. I’m going to do a Z axis until I see Quen and Ceri make it out of the woods. There’s nothing ahead of you for another quarter mile.”

      Trent shook himself out of his funk. “You couldn’t have scouted a quarter mile that fast.”

      “That’s right,” Jenks said, grinning. “You just keep thinking that.” He turned to me as he took wing. “I’ll stay within earshot. Something isn’t right.”

      “Thanks, Jenks.” He zipped straight up to rise high enough to see when Quen and Ceri broke free of the trees, and I nudged Molly into a short canter to catch up with Tulpa.

      Sighing, Trent drew Tulpa into a slower pace,