Page 43 of Demon's Bluff
The pixy’s wings pressed against my neck and I stifled a shiver. It was warmer over here, but not by much. “I think he’s trying to establish a name for himself. There are easier ways than this to make a living.” I peered through the trees for any sign of the mountains with which to orient myself. “Walk me home, huh? Good. I have no idea where we are.”
“I do.” Trent followed my gaze, then turned. “Church is that way.” He pushed into motion, his hand finding mine with a comforting sureness. “Unless you’re still up for dinner?”
“At the estate?” Jenks said brightly as he snuggled in between my neck and my collar. “Count me in. I haven’t seen my grand-younglings in months. I bet they’re flying by now.”
Trent’s hold on me tightened as he wove between the trees, awkward at first, then easing into his elven grace, which slipped like smoke through the trees, finding the easier path. “Sorry, Jenks. I’m talking soup over a fire here in the ever-after.”
I stifled a quiver as a tingling energy slipped from him to me, our balances equalizing. He smelled wonderful after all that magic. Like cinnamon and wine. “Soup sounds great,” I said, and he flashed me a smile, part relief, part eager anticipation. I knew he had been in and out of his estate since his buddy Saladan had implicated him in illegal genetic research, but I hadn’t had an opportunity to check out his new digs at Al’s grove in the ever-after yet.
“Where you been, cookie man?” Jenks asked. “You sure as Tink’s aDisney whore aren’t in the garden, are you? I already gots a demon in there.”
Trent’s grin became mischievous. “No. I’m at Al’s old place. Good water there.”
Good water? Perhaps, but I thought it more likely that he had set up there to tap Al as a convenient babysitter and possibly buffer against the other demons. Al had since moved to the line in my backyard to avoid looking as if he liked Trent’s two little girls. But he did. Al would die for them.
“Good water?” Jenks blurted. “You have a ley line running right through your estate as a foolproof escape tunnel. You could be eating someone else’s cooking and taking hot showers, and you’re eating out of a box, sleeping on the ground, and washing your boy bits in a cold stream? In November?”
“Jenks…” I cautioned, but Trent was smiling as he stepped over a fallen tree before extending a hand to help me cross.
“The girls and I do okay.” Trent hesitated, his gaze distant for a moment as he placed himself. “Besides, the estate is empty except for the stables and a small maintenance crew for the gardens. It’s funny. I used to stay months at the estate before feeling the need to go out. Now I can hardly stand being there.”
Our way suddenly opened up onto a worn path, and I leaned my head on his shoulder, our pace easing as the night thickened about us. “True,” I said softly. “But you had a full staff and lots going on then.”
A small noise of agreement escaped him, and I flushed. “Sorry,” I added, and he let go of my hand to slide his arm around my back and tug me closer as the path evened out. His father had died early, leaving Trent a legacy of illegal genetic tinkering needed to maintain his entire species. Now that the elves weren’t in imminent danger of becoming extinct, he’d been free to find out who he wanted to be. It hadn’t left him searching as much as one might think.
His mother had been rather wicked, I was finding out, and Trent had changed in the last few years, evolving in real time in front of me intosomething far more dangerous than his dad had ever been, playing with illicit magic the way he had once played with illegal genetic techniques. Society frowned on both of them. One they might forgive, but both?
But I had to admit his new dexterity with elf magic left him smelling delicious and pegged all my meters.
“It’s okay,” he said, voice intent as his breath shifted my hair. “I enjoy it here. Stop looking at me as if it’s your fault. I’m the one with the genetic labs, not you.”
But Lee never would have targeted him if it hadn’t been for me. The witch had made a play for Cincinnati, going through my friends to get to me. Everyone else rode the wave to the shore, but Trent…His past had swamped him, and now he was rolling along the bottom of the ocean, struggling to find the surface.
My gaze dropped to the plastic basket in his hand. He was buying secondhand clothes for his daughters and used shoes for his feet. Ellasbeth was in her glory, and I worried every time Lucy went to fulfill her visitation rights that her lawyers would find a way to detain both girls.
“Hey…” Trent tugged me into him, trying to shake my bad mood. “I made some changes to the grove when Al left. I think you’ll like it.”
“I can’t wait,” I said, but I wasn’t really listening, more concerned with how the next few days were going to play out. Going into the past to bargain with Newt for a mirror? What if I changed something and came back to find Trent and Ellasbeth married?
“Jenks, I put in some late-pollinator plants on the south end. Help yourself.”
“Great. Thanks,” Jenks said, his wings tickling my neck as a stream of greenish-blue dust sifted down my front.
“And I added an outdoor space,” Trent continued, his pace slowing as the light began to brighten when the forest thinned. “Put in a tub for the girls…”
“Oh, really?” I stepped over a fallen log, recognizing where we were now. It was Al’s old grove, though the protective ring of toadstools was gone, moved to my church, apparently.
“A tub?” Jenks scoffed, and I slowed at the edge of the clearing to take in the changes.
The three cherry trees in the corner were no longer in bloom, the leaves brown and crisping as whatever spell Al had on them had faded with his absence. Tulpa, Trent’s gray horse and familiar, cropped the grass under them, his long, manicured tail swishing and his coat gleaming in the low light. Al’s wagon was gone, but in its place was a large tent set up beside the stream. A patio of flat, rough stone made a pleasant cleared space around the fire. The flat stones continued into the stream to outline a deep basin. The river ran straight through it and on, but there was a nearby rock that could dam the openings, creating, as Trent had said, a tub.
“Oh, my gosh,” I said as I rocked into motion to take a closer look. “It’s a tub.”
Trent grinned, his gaze following Jenks as the pixy went to scope out the place. “Yes. I stop the flow with a rock, and once it’s full, it’s easy to warm it up.” His arm fell from behind my back. “Lucy…” he said, shuddering. “Lucy does not like cold water.”
“She takes after her mom,” I said, and Trent sighed, his fingers tight in mine as we crossed the glen. “Dinner sounds great,” I said as the peace of the crickets took hold of me. I could forget everything for a few hours and just…be. “What can I do to help? Start the fire?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got it.” His attention flicked past me to the stream. “You want to try the hot tub?”