The Witch With No Name Page 10

  “She is a demon!” Ellasbeth exclaimed, her tone accusing. “Your father made her!”

  “He did not make her. He enabled her to survive. There is a difference.” Trent’s voice was soft in anger, and I stayed where I was, my hand reaching for the back door faltering.

  “Which might get you killed if it gets out,” she huffed, and I stiffened.

  “Is that a threat?” Trent’s voice was hard. “Are you sure you want to do that? Again?”

  Landon cleared his throat, but the words had been spoken. Crap on toast. Trent had a ruthless streak as wide as Jenks’s. He’d once stopped me from killing Nick, claiming he wanted one clean thing in his life—me. I’d since agreed that killing Nick for the hell of it would have left a mark I didn’t want, but Trent . . . He felt as if he was already lost and had no such compulsion against “doing things for the hell of it.”

  And Ellasbeth had just called him out.

  Why is she here? Why now? Wings clattering, Jenks landed on the doorknob, probably to keep me from going in. “Hey. Eavesdropping is my thing, not yours,” he said.

  “Shhh,” I demanded, leaning to the open kitchen window.

  “You are forcing our daughter to associate with a demon!” Ellasbeth exclaimed. “If you were anyone else, Lucy would be mine by the child abuse laws!”

  My lips parted, and I felt my face go white.

  “Lucy doesn’t care what Rachel is,” Trent said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s the world I want her to grow up into, and by God, Ellasbeth, if I find out you said anything to make Lucy or Ray question Rachel’s worth, I will never let you see either of them again.”

  “Then . . .” Ellasbeth’s voice went wobbly. “I thought . . . you were very clear on your stance at the zoo.”

  “Ah, Ellasbeth?” Landon said, as if not liking the hope in her voice any more than I did.

  “You were trying to take her by force, demanding I sell Lucy to you for a birthright that was already mine. Stop pushing me into a corner, Ellasbeth. Stop trying to control the situation. You are not in charge. I am.”

  A cold feeling started in my middle. I knew who Trent was, what he was morally capable of doing, seen it firsthand and tried to pretend it wasn’t there. Don’t call his bluff, Ellasbeth. Don’t. But . . . if Trent and Ellasbeth found a way to make this work . . . Damn it, that was why she was here, I thought, seeing everything Trent and I had found ending far too soon.

  “I just want to see my child,” Ellasbeth pleaded.

  Jenks snorted, his dust shifting to an irate orange. “What a little squirrel sack.”

  “I find that hard to believe when you show up with Landon,” Trent said, and I waved Jenks off the doorknob.

  Jenks flew up, startled. “They aren’t done yet!” he protested, and I tugged the door so it would squeak. “Rache, you need to work on this spying thing. Your timing sucks fairy dust.”

  “I need to get in there before he does something dumb, like open up joint-custody talks again,” I said, and the pixy snickered. From inside came a shuffling of motion. I knew my face was red, and I took a slow breath as I paced through the back living room, trying to get the ugly look off my face before I went into the kitchen.

  But it was obvious I’d heard something. Ellasbeth’s cheeks were a bright red against her straw-blond hair. She sat stiffly at Ivy’s big farm table, her hands clenched on a trendy purse, knees tight together, and a cream-colored skirt showing a respectable amount of leg. Her coat was still on, and it matched her heels. If I had to describe her in a few words, it would be professional, smart, classic beauty, and probably in that order. Devious, backstabbing, and self-serving would also be on the list.

  On the surface, she was a perfect match for Trent’s perfection—except he didn’t love her. It hadn’t mattered before, but after having gotten a taste of freedom, he was resisting going back. I felt a flash of pride that I’d been a part of that. But now . . . I wasn’t sure.

  As if sensing my emotion, Trent looked at me from where he was standing at the sink. The tension rose as the silence stretched. Trent was unusually ruffled, and as soon as he looked from her, Ellasbeth frowned at his casual shoes—then my wild hair.

  “I was fixing the wall,” I said, not knowing why I felt the need to explain myself. “Landon,” I added, trying not to show my distaste.

  Needless to say, I wasn’t going to shake his hand, and I stiffened when the young man started forward from the fridge to do just that. Trent cleared his throat, and Landon changed his motion to stand behind Ellasbeth, placing his unworked, tan hands on the back of her chair. The center counter was more or less between us. I’d rather have it be a continent. God! I’d give a lot to know why Trent trusted him enough to do this.

  Landon looked uncomfortable in a gray suit that set off his blond hair and green eyes. A traditional cylindrical hat of his clergy profession marred his young-businessman look, but it did give him an exotic air. I was sure he had an even more traditional prayer hat under it and probably a ribbon in his pocket. I knew Trent did, though I seldom saw it unless we got into trouble, and that hadn’t happened in almost three months.

  Why are Ellasbeth and Landon here? Together?

  Landon smiled, but the emotion behind it felt dead. “It’s good to see you again, Rachel.”

  Jenks snickered as he landed in the hanging rack. “I’ll bet,” he said under his breath, and Ellasbeth’s forced smile faltered.

  “Ellasbeth,” I said next, reaching for a damp cloth by the sink to clean the dirt from my fingers. “I wasn’t expecting you.” I wasn’t going to shake her hand either.

  “Neither was I.” Trent’s head was down over his phone as he texted something. I’d be willing to bet it was to Quen or Jon to double security on the girls.

  Ellasbeth stood as I tossed the rag into the sink, and I froze when she stood, hand extended. Great. My hands were clammy from the cloth, and I wiped them dry as she crossed the room.

  “My apologies for dropping in on you like this,” she said, and I watched her face as we shook, thinking that her hair looked fake next to Trent’s transparent wispiness, and her voice had lost its musical cadence.

  Her hand slipped from mine, and I said nothing. The last time I’d seen her, she’d been flanked by a dozen magic users and hired guns with the intention of forcibly taking Lucy and Ray. And Ray wasn’t even her child.

  “Well, this is about as comfortable as finding a naked fairy in your eldest son’s bedroom,” Jenks smart-mouthed, a silver dust slipping down and pooling on the counter like mercury.

  Ellasbeth’s eye twitched, and she dropped back a step. “Lucy is my child, too,” she said, gaze darting to Trent as he closed his phone with a snap.

  “Then you shouldn’t have forced that barbaric, outdated tradition on me in the hopes I couldn’t fulfill it,” Trent said, showing more emotion than he usually allowed himself. “You brought this on yourself. The church can’t help you. It’s a legal issue, not a moral one.”

  Landon cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should come back later.”

  “Or not at all,” I said, frustrated. I could figure this charm out. I didn’t need elf magic. I needed someone in the ever-after to pick up the damn phone!

  “Ahh . . . ,” Trent hedged, shifting sideways until he could touch the small of my back. Ellasbeth, too, had a minor panic moment—for a completely different reason.

  “Please,” she said, eyes wide. “I asked Landon if I could come with him.” Her gaze landed on Trent’s hand touching me in reassurance, and she swallowed hard. “You won’t take my calls. You refuse any dialogue. You say I forced your hand, well, you’re forcing mine!”

  I saw Trent’s sigh more than heard it, but what caught my attention was Landon’s sour expression. It was more than watching Ellasbeth beg; he seemed to have an interest here. My eyebrows rose as I suddenly got it. Ellasbeth hadn’t stumbled into this meeting between Landon, Trent, and me. She’d been with Landon when the call had come in. She’d
been with Landon.

  Euuwww, I thought. There should be limits to how far one should abase oneself in the search for power, but if the “prince of the elves” had fallen, perhaps the head religious leader was a good second.

  “I apologize for my actions at the zoo,” Ellasbeth said, pleading with an indifferent Trent. “It endangered both girls and was foolish, but you weren’t listening to me!”

  Jenks sniffed. “As if you could ever hurt them while I’m around.”

  “It was wrong. I was desperate,” Ellasbeth said. “Lucy is my child! I didn’t know what I was risking when I forced you into it. I love her. Please! I’ll do anything you want.”

  Anything? My arms fell from my middle. “Maybe you should talk to her,” I suggested, hating myself for even saying it, but I knew I’d never stop until I got my child back if it was taken from me. That, and I didn’t think Ellasbeth would give anything, and when she balked, Trent could tell her to leave for good.

  Trent turned to me, his hand making tingles on my waist. “I thought you’d be against this,” he said, and Ellasbeth took a fast breath, hope almost painful in her.

  “I’m not for it, no,” I said, nervous when Landon’s eyes narrowed as he realized Trent and I were so close, functioning as a couple. “But I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life. Lucy and Ray shouldn’t either. Find out if she means it.”

  “Of course I mean it!” Ellasbeth’s trendy heels ground the leftover salt from a circle into the linoleum. Her eyes were alight, and the only thing that kept me from taking it back was that it was love for her daughter. She was a tricky woman.

  “I don’t trust her,” Trent said softly, his hands now holding mine. Both Ellasbeth and Landon were seeing more than I wanted them to, but I leaned into him, forcing myself to be more open with our relationship. We’d been hiding our feelings from ourselves and the public for so long, it was hard to show them in front of anyone else.

  “If she’s serious about seeing the girls, she can damn well move to Cincinnati,” I said.

  Ellasbeth’s breath came in a panicked sound. “Cincinnati!” she said, her face reddening. “I am not moving to Cincinnati.”

  Jenks’s wing hum came loud from the overhanging rack, and I swear, Trent almost smiled as he gave my fingers a squeeze and let go. Behind her, Landon rubbed his fingers into his temple. I could nearly see the distaste coming from the woman, but Trent was warming to the idea, if only because Ellasbeth didn’t like it.

  “I thought you said anything.” I put my shoulder to Trent’s to make a united front. “Talk is cheap, which might be why that’s all you do.”

  Her perfectly painted lips parted in outrage, and from the rack, Jenks snickered. Ellasbeth scowled up at him. Her fingers were in a tight fist, and I was glad she didn’t know much magic. “Trent, perhaps we can take a walk,” she said stiffly, clearly wanting to get Trent alone and hopefully sway him where I wouldn’t be around to sway him back.

  Trent’s shoulders slumped as he realized he was going to have to deal with Ellasbeth instead of helping me with the charm. “I’m not leaving Landon alone with Rachel.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I protested, and a faint but real smile eased his features.

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” Trent said, and concern flickered over Landon. Trent brushed past me with the scent of cinnamon and wine. “We can talk in the back room,” he said, taking Ellasbeth’s elbow.

  “It’s not very private,” Ellasbeth protested, but she was moving. “I’d rather take a walk.”

  Trent glanced at me over his shoulder. “Yes, I know,” he muttered, clearly surprised I was okay with this. They left, looking good together, better than Trent and me. Slowly my jealousy evolved into guilt. I’m not self-sabotaging my relationship with Trent, I thought, cursing myself as their voices twined together.

  No one wanted Trent and me together: not the elves, not the demons, no one. I didn’t give a rat’s tail about that, but the guilt . . . Seeing Ellasbeth here, begging to renew her ties with her child? I could do nothing to further Trent’s grand design to save his people, and he was so damn good at it. If there was the chance that he and Ellasbeth could make a go of it, I had to let it happen—if only for the girls.

  But it hurt.

  Jenks was hovering, waiting for direction, and I made a nod to follow them. He darted off, and my focus shifted to find that Landon had caught the motion. Uncaring, I shrugged.

  “Why should Landon not want to be alone with Rachel?” Ellasbeth said faintly.

  “He tried to kill her using the Goddess.”

  Ellasbeth gasped, and hearing it, Landon cracked his knuckles, unrepentant as he sat sideways to the table and pulled his cylindrical hat off his head, leaving his short hair mussed. No spelling cap, but it could have been woven into the top of the ceremonial hat.

  “Jenks?” Trent’s voice came, loud. “Get out.”

  “Aww, for ever-loving toad piss,” the pixy complained as he flew backward into the hallway, an embarrassed green dust slipping from him. “How did you know I was there?”

  “Out!” Trent said again, and Jenks flashed me a grin and vanished down the hallway to the sanctuary. He’d most likely go listen in through the flue, but at least Ellasbeth would have the illusion of privacy.

  The coffeepot sat cold on the counter, an inch of old brew in it. I wasn’t going to offer Landon any. Being tricked into merging my mind with a goddess bent on taking me over had left a bad taste in my mouth.

  Landon seemed to gather himself as the muted, musical voices of Ellasbeth and Trent dissolved into a rise and fall of sound. “You have a nice spelling area. You cook here, too?”

  My attention flicked to his and held. “Not at the same time.”

  Sucking his teeth, Landon shifted his feet. “Bis around?”

  I nodded, glancing at the ceiling. “He’s sleeping, but he wakes up occasionally.” Especially when I was upset, but Landon already knew that.

  From the back room Trent’s voice rose. “I’m willing to die for Lucy’s safety. I’m not about to sell her to you for a little less blackmail or my returned standing. You don’t have anything I want, Ellasbeth. Get used to it.”

  My God, Trent could be callous when the situation called for it, and I propped my elbows on the stainless steel counter between Landon and myself.

  David had once told me I’d saved Trent’s life, not while being his security, but by causing him to grow, to lose his at-any-cost outlook that the needs of the one outweighed the needs of the many, that the ends justified the means. I’d seen it. Hell, I’d lived it while a mink trapped in his office, watching him kill his head geneticist to preserve his secrets and his money flow. But he’d tempered himself. Because of me, if David was to be believed, and it had saved his life because, as David had said, he wasn’t going to make the world live through another Kalamack bent on elven supremacy. Perhaps Landon had risen to fulfill that role instead, and I stifled a shudder at the thought because where Trent had a conscience, Landon did not.

  “Why are you here helping me?”

  Landon rose, his mood guarded as he spun the book Trent had brought over to face him. “Trent told me he thinks the undead will walk into the sun if they get their souls back. I tend to agree with him. I think it’s fitting that giving the vampires what they want will bring about their end. I don’t mind being a part of that.” He hesitated, and my heart thumped at his stillness. “My question is, why are you doing this if you think it will drive them into suncide?”

  “Because Ivy’s life is more important than one lousy vampire who’s already on his way out.” Uneasy, I rubbed a watermark on the counter. Fear that the vampires would take their revenge out on Ivy and me if things didn’t go the way they wanted was never far from my thoughts, coloring my hopes—and my decisions.

  Landon made a sound deep in his throat, and I jumped when he shut the book with a snap. “Trent’s charm won’t work.”

  “Why not?” I
said, not liking that he’d startled me.

  “Because it uses the auratic residue left in the mind and body to adhere itself with, and the undead have completely polluted theirs with the auras they take in to survive.”

  It was exactly what Trent had said, and grimacing, I steadied myself for some major boot licking. “You have another way?”

  Landon pulled his attention back from the soft conversation in the living room. “In theory. The charm dates back several thousand years. I’ve never heard of anyone trying it.”

  He was lying. I could tell in the way he was standing. “So . . . it’s a black charm?” I prompted. Elves were reluctant to label their charms as black and white—but a white charm never went out of style. “I won’t kill anyone.”

  His eyes came up, mocking. “Lucky for you you’re dealing with people already dead.”

  Oh God. It was a black charm. “What does it do?” I asked, my gut tightening. I can do this without trusting him. Hell, I used to work with demons.

  Landon shifted the book between us until it was perfectly square with the counter. He was thinking, and my mistrust deepened. “In theory? It fixes the soul of an elder to a newborn. It was said to have been used to extend our collective knowledge past the grave.” He looked up, jaw set. “I’ll write it out for you.”

  “Let me guess. You have to destroy the newborn’s soul to do it.” Yeah, the demons probably had a version of this. Ugly. It was just ugly the things magic could do.

  Neck red, he didn’t say anything, finally turning to pull a few sheets from Ivy’s printer. “Pretty much,” he said as he took a pen from his pocket and began to sketch a pentagram as I might draw a smiley face. “The original soul must be forcibly ripped away and the old soul fixed into its place. Most times, the recipient became psychotic, which only added to the mystique of being a high priest back then, I suppose.” He looked up, reading my disgust. “I did say there’s no record of this charm being performed for several thousand years.”

  “But you still know how to do it,” I accused.