That just ticked me off. And I wasn't happy he'd been keeping Ceri away from me like I was the plague. Even if I was.
"We've shared a cell in the ever-after," I said. "I think we ought to be on a first-name basis, don't you?"
A single pale eyebrow rose. "They're dressing the help nicely this year," he said, and Edden disguised a laugh as a cough. It was all I could do to not give the FIB captain a backhanded swat.
The distinctive click and whine of a shutter snapping pulled my head around and I froze. It was the Cincinnati Enquirer, the photographer looking odd dressed in a full-length sequined gown with two cameras draped over her. "Councilman Kalamack," she said enthusiastically. "Can I get a picture of you, the lady, and Captain Edden together?"
Edden shifted closer, hiding a smile as he muttered for me alone, "She ain't no lady. She's my witch."
"Stop that," I whispered. Then I stiffened as Trent sidled closer, slipping his hand about my waist so that his fingers would show for the camera. It was possessive, and I didn't like it.
"Smile, Ms. Morgan," the woman said brightly. "You might make the front page!"
Swell. Trent's touch was light compared to Edden's heavy pressure on my shoulder. I sucked in my gut and turned a little sideways to put my back to Trent to balance out his hand on my waist. He smelled like the outdoors. The shutter clicked several times, and I stiffened when I spotted Quen, Trent's bodyguard, watching. Jenks zipped over us to talk to Quen, and the woman snapped another picture when his dust glittered upon us. My tension eased; Jenks was back.
"Wonderful," the photographer said as she looked at the back of the camera. "Thank you. Enjoy the party."
"Always a pleasure to talk to the press," Trent said as he started drifting away.
The woman looked up. "Captain Edden, if I could get a picture of you and the dean of the university? I promise I'll leave you alone after that."
Edden gave me a severe look that told me to behave myself, then smiled benevolently as he talked to the woman about the FIB's annual fund-raiser while she led him away.
Trent was gazing at nothing in the hope that either I would go away or someone would come rescue him, but the photographer had given everyone the idea that we were here together and they were leaving us alone. I wanted to talk to him about a Pandora charm to possibly return my memory, but I couldn't come right out and ask. Cocking my hip, I tapped my heel once, then turned to him.
"How is Ceri?"
He hesitated, and still not looking at me, he said, "Fine."
His voice was beautiful, and I nodded as if waiting for more. When he remained silent, I added, "My calls are being stopped at the switchboard."
He didn't even twitch. "I'll look into it." His eyes were mocking when they met mine, and then he started to walk away.
"Trent," I said as I jumped to keep up with him.
"Don't touch me, Morgan," he said without moving his lips, waving pleasantly at someone across the room.
Jenks made a noise of affronted surprise, and angry, I got in front of Trent. The man rocked to a halt, clearly bothered. "Trent," I said as my heart pounded. "This is stupid."
Again his eyebrows rose high. "You are a demon. If I could, I'd have you jailed on that alone. Shunning is hardly justice."
My expression became stiff, but I wasn't surprised he knew I'd been shunned. "Take me down and you go with me, eh?" I said as Jenks landed on my shoulder in support.
Trent smiled mirthlessly. "That's about it."
"I'm not a demon," I protested softly, aware of the people around us.
The man sniffed, as if smelling something rank. "You're close enough for me."
He started to push by me again, and I muttered, "It was your dad's fault."
At that, he jerked to a stop. "Ooooh," Jenks mocked, sparkles sifting down my front as his wings made a draft, "don't you talk about my daddy!"
"He saved your life," Trent said, clearly affronted. "It was a mistake that cost him his own. My father didn't make you. You were born what you are, and if you need any more proof, just look at who you settled into an apprenticeship with."
I felt that keenly, but I swallowed my anger. I'd been trying to talk to him for months to clear the air, but he wouldn't take my calls, wouldn't let me talk to Ceri. This might be my last chance to explain myself.
"You just don't get it, do you?" I said, leaning close since my words were barely above a whisper, and Jenks took off. "I did what I did to save your life. Laying claim to you was the only way to get you out of there, and to do that, I had to agree to a very tight tie to Al."
"Tight tie?" he mocked under his breath. "You're his student."
"I did it to save your damned freaking life!" My knees were shaking, and I locked them. "I don't expect any thanks from you, as you're so irritatingly unable to thank anyone when they do something you're afraid to do, but stop taking your guilt or shame out on me."
I was done, and kissing good-bye my chance at getting a Pandora's charm or him to understand, I turned my back on him and stomped to the window. The restaurant had shifted, and I was looking right down at the square. Damn it, why wouldn't he at least listen?
The familiar wing hum of Jenks brought my head up, and I wiped an eye an instant before he landed on my shoulder again. "You have a way with him, don't you," the pixy said.
I sniffed, wiping my eyes. "Look at that," I muttered. "The bastard made me cry."
Jenks's wings made a cool spot on my neck. "Want me to pixy him?"
"No. But now I don't have the chance of a ghost's fart in a windstorm to get that Pandora charm." That's not really what was bothering me, though. It was Trent. Why did I even care what he thought?
The soft scuff of a shoe on flat carpet and Jenks's soft oath brought me around, shocked to see Trent. He had a glass in his hand, and he extended it. "Here's your water," he said loudly, his jaw clenched.
I looked him up and down, wondering what the devil was going on. Behind him, Quen was doing his security thing, arms crossed and expression severe. It was obvious that Quen had made him come over. Sighing, I took the glass, turning to look out the window in the attempt to divorce myself from everything. I needed to find a quiet place, out of the way. "Jenks, could you see if the bathroom is clear?"
The pixy's wings buzzed a warning, but he lifted from my shoulder. "Sure, Rache."
In an instant he was gone, leaving in his path delighted coos of sound from some of the older ladies. "I don't have anything to say to you right now," I said softly to Trent.
Trent shifted to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. Together we looked over the edge to the mass of people down below. I should have just taken my chances in the parking garage as I had originally planned. This was starting to have all the signs of one of my famous backfires.
"I don't have anything to say to you either," Trent said, but tension was showing. I could play this game. I'd already lost, so it didn't matter.
"You need a Pandora charm?" the man said casually, and I jerked. Cripes, he heard me?
Pretending indifference, I breathed on the glass to fog it up. "Yes."
Trent put a shoulder against the glass and faced me. "That's a rare branch of magic."
Why does he have to be so insufferably smug? "I know. Elven, my mother says."
He was silent while the band took a break. "Tell me what you need to remember, and maybe I'll look into it."
I'd been down this path with him before and had gotten burned every time. I didn't want to owe him anything, but what harm would it do if he knew? Sighing, I faced him, thinking that leaning against the window like that looked really dangerous. "I'm trying to remember who killed Kisten Felps."
Trent's jaw unclenched. It was a small move, but I caught it. "I thought you'd want to remember something from the make-a-wish camp, or your father," he said.
I looked out the window again. They had a band down there. Ivy was probably having a lot more fun than me. "What if it was?" I whispered.
"I might have said yes."
Behind us, the party continued, excitement growing as the serving people started distributing champagne for the upcoming toasts. My eyes searched the ceiling for Jenks. I had to move. No one would be in the ladies' restroom when the clock ticked over.
Nervous, I tightened my grip on my bag. "What do you want, Trent?" I asked, trying to hurry this up. "You wouldn't offer if you didn't want something. Other than me dead, that is."
He smiled with half his mouth, then became serious. "How do you figure I want something? I'm just curious as to what makes you tick."
My head tilted, and for the first time all night, I felt in control. "You've approached me twice. You've touched your hair three times. You had a drink in your hand when we had our picture taken. That will be a first if it goes to press. You're nervous and upset, not thinking clearly."
Trent's face lost all expression. He dropped his head as if in irritation, and when he pulled it back up, there was a new tightness to his eyes. He glanced at Quen, and the older man shrugged.
"Is it Ceri?" I asked. Mocked almost.
His brow furrowed, and he looked out the window.
"You want to know what she really thinks of you." Still he said nothing, and I felt a sloppy smile come over me. Hiding it, I took a sip of water and set it on the tiny railing. Slowly it started to move away as the restaurant turned. "You won't like what I say."
"I don't like a lot of things."
I sighed. I couldn't do this to him. I really couldn't. Much as I would like to see Trent hurt, betraying Ceri's trust was not going to happen. I didn't think he had a Pandora charm anyway. "Ask Ceri. She'll tell you a pretty story that will save your pride."
Okay, so I wasn't above a little dig.
"Rachel."
He was reaching out, and I pulled back a step. "Don't touch me," I said coldly.
Jenks flew up, the glow of his dust reflected in the black glass. He hovered uncertainly, and he tapped his wrist like he'd seen Ivy do when we were running late. He had his sword bared, and though it looked like a shiny olive pick, it could be deadly. My pulse jumped. It was almost time.
"If you will excuse me," I said tightly. "I have to use the little girls' room. Happy New Year, Trent."
Without a backward glance, I walked away, my head high and my bag in my grip. Jenks landed on my shoulder almost immediately.
"Get on the elevator," he said, and curiosity filled me. People were getting out of my way with whispers and stares, but I didn't care.
"Elevator?" I echoed. "Why? What's wrong?"
He took off, flying backward so I could see him grin. "Nothing. There's a maintenance floor where they store the tables. I wouldn't have been able to find it if they hadn't left the key wedged atop the frame holding the inspection notice." He grinned. "I sat on it when I took Ivy downstairs."
Arms swinging, I smiled at the elevator man as I entered the lift, and with no regret, shoved him out with a well-planted foot. The poor guy hit the carpet face-first, his loud complaint cutting off as the doors shut. Excited, I held my hand out, and the key dropped into it.
"Thanks, Jenks," I said as I keyed the panel and hit the button he indicated. "I don't know what I would do without you."
"Probably die," he said, grinning.
Maybe I could pull this off yet.