"Me neither." His voice was distant and emotionless. "It should be quite a day."
I ran my gaze down him. "I bet you wanted to get married outside, huh? Under the trees in the moonlight? "
Trent's ears reddened.
"Oh, my God," I said. "You do, don't you!"
His roving eyes never met mine. "It's her wedding, not mine."
Needling Trent was one of my favorite things, and thinking that Al's showing up qualified as trouble and a pay increase, I shrugged, pleased that the day would end with money in my pocket. "I don't think it's her wedding either."
We had made a full circuit, and I was looking at Ellasbeth again. Al had captured her attention, and knowing that Trent didn't like his back to them, I moved freely under his direction until he could see them. I wasn't fooling myself that he loved her, but he clearly took his duties as husband seriously. "Sure am glad I'm not royalty," I muttered. "I wouldn't want to have to bump uglies with someone I can't stand. On a regular basis. And no one else."
"Ow!" I exclaimed, trying to yank my fingers from Trent but finding them caught. Then I colored, realizing what I'd said. "Oh... sorry," I stammered, meaning it. "That was insensitive."
Trent's frown turned into a sly smirk. "Bump uglies?" he said, eyes on the table behind me. "You are a font of gutter slang, Rachel. We must do this again."
The song had ended, and I felt his hand start to slip from mine. I glanced at Ellasbeth, uptight and glaring at me as Al whispered in her ear. The thought of the unending indifference Trent would endure lay heavy on my mind, and I licked my lips in a sudden decision. I tightened my hold on his hand, and Trent eyed me suspiciously.
His attempt to rock away from me turned into a tug, and we seamlessly stepped into "Sophisticated Lady." He spun me, and I caught a glimpse of Ellasbeth, white-faced as she listened to Al. She was a big girl. She could take it.
It was obvious that Trent had felt my desire to keep dancing, and I wondered if he went along with it simply to bother Ellasbeth. My focus blurred, and as Trent kept silent with his own thoughts, I found myself imagining his life with her. I was sure they would be okay. They would learn to love each other. It would likely take only a few decades.
My gut tightened. Now or never. "Ah, Trent," I said, and his gaze sharpened on me. "I've got someone I want you to meet. Can you come over tomorrow about four or so? "
His eyebrows rose, and without a hint showing that I was about to complicate his life beyond reason, he chided me, saying, "Ms. Morgan. Your pulse has increased."
I licked my lips, my feet moving by rote. "Yeah. So can you make it?"
Disbelief shone in his green eyes. "Rachel," he said irately, "I'm a little busy."
The song was at the refrain, and I knew he wouldn't dance another with me. "You know that old card you have in your great room, framed on the wall?" I blurted.
That got his attention, and he took a slow breath. "The tarot cards?"
Nervous, I nodded. "Yes. I know someone who looks like the person on the devil card."
Trent's expression went cold, and his hand pressed heavy on my waist. "The devil card? Is this some sort of deal you've got going?"
"Jeez, Trent," I said, insulted. "Not the devil. The woman he's dragging away."
"Oh." His focus blurred as he thought that over, and then he frowned. "That is in really bad taste. Even for you."
He thinks it's a joke? "Her name is Ceri," I said, stumbling over my words. "She used to be Al's familiar before I rescued her. She was born in the Dark Ages. She's just started putting her life back together and is ready to meet what's left of her kin."
Trent stopped, and we stood unmoving on the dance floor. Shock showed in his eyes.
"And if you hurt her," I added, my hands leaving him, "I'll kill you. I swear I'll track you down like a dog and kill you."
His mouth snapped shut. "Why are you telling me this?" he said, his face pale and the scent of green leaves almost an assault. "I'm getting married in two days!"
I put my hands on my hips. "What does your getting married have to do with anything?" I said, not surprised he would consider himself first and foremost. "She's not a broodmare, she's a woman with her own agenda. And as much as it might surprise you..." I poked a finger at his chest. "... it doesn't include the great and desirable Trent Kalamack. She wants to meet you and give you whatever sample you need. That's it."
Emotions crossed his features too fast to be recognized. Then the wall came down, and I shivered at the icy control. Saying nothing, he turned on a heel and walked away.
I stared at him, blinking. "Hey, does that mean you aren't coming?"
Moving stiffly, he crossed the room to talk to his parents-in-law-to-be, clearly trying to escape.
A prickling at the back of my neck pulled my attention to Quen. His eyebrows were high in question, and I looked away before he decided to come over. Arms clasped about myself, I headed for a back table where I could sit out the rest of the evening. Jenks landed on my earring in a gliding slide of gold sparkles, his almost nonexistent weight comforting and familiar. "You told him about Ceri?" he asked.
I nodded as the music ended, the singer's voice rising beautiful and alone.
Jenks's wings fanned my neck. "What did he say?"
Sighing, I sat down and started fiddling with the sugar packets. "Nothing."