"Black?" Jenks yelped, darting up in a wash of yellow dust.
"Go ahead, ask them who sent them," Trent said, standing stiffly as he gestured to them. "I know who did, but you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Not in time, anyway. Go on. It doesn't last long."
Well, that was one bit of good news. "And then what?" I said harshly. "Do you know how illegal those are? This is my kitchen, and I'm the one who's going to be blamed for this. Or is that your idea?" I said with a sneer, and Ivy caught my arm, thinking I was going to cross the room and smack him.
"You need to hurry up," he said, tossing his hair back in a rare show of nervousness. "I have this under control. I'll hit them with another charm so they don't remember."
I shoved Ivy's hand from me, shaking as I stood there. "Is that your plan? Make them forget? God, Trent. This is, like, six times illegal!"
Trent tugged his sleeves down as if unbothered, but his eyes were squinting. "True, but no one gets hurt this way. And I'd think you'd be the last person worrying about what's legal. You've got thirty seconds. Tick tock, Rachel."
As I stood there fuming, Jack started to blink. Ivy took my arm again, this time in encouragement, but I couldn't do it. It was wrong!
"Oh for Tink's little red shoes," Jenks said suddenly, and he darted down to hover before the man. "Who paid you to attack Rachel?" he barked, his hand on his sword hilt.
"No one," Jack said, and I turned to Trent, my brow furrowed.
Jenks's dust turned green. "You mean you don't know, or you weren't paid for it?"
Trent shifted his weight to his other foot. "They weren't attacking Rachel, they were attacking me. Try again."
Giving me an apologetic shrug, Ivy slipped past me and crouched before Jill, lifting her chin to force her to look at her. "Who told you to attack Trent?" she asked calmly, and I crossed my arms over my chest. I wanted to know, but I'd rather scare it out of them than use black magic.
"Walter Withon," they said together, and a knot tightened in my gut.
"This was a warning," Trent said with a sigh, his shoulder easing to make him look somewhat embarrassed. No, guarded.
"Ellasbeth's dad?" I dropped back a step, my anger fizzling. Crap on toast. Ellasbeth was the woman Trent had been going to marry-until I'd arrested Trent at his own wedding. It was something Trent thanked me for later in a weird bit of honesty when we thought we were both going to die. Yeah, the Withons had the means for a hit, and they might be a little mad. But enough to take potshots at him?
"Now will you help me?" Trent said, and I took a breath, snapping myself out of my funk. Seeing my eyes on his, Trent smiled wickedly, hands moving in a ley-line charm.
"Trent, wait...," I said.
But it was too late, and I could do nothing when I felt the line he was connected to give a lurch and he whispered, "Memoria cadere."
Again, I jerked back, setting up a protection circle around myself since I didn't know what the man was capable of anymore. Seeing its creation, Ivy flung herself almost under the table, and Jenks darted to the ceiling. I stood tall, heart pounding as a wash of my gold-tinted aura lapped over the circle with all the subtleties of a shadowy pearlescence. Bis, on the fridge, stirred, his bright red eye cracking open to find me before it slid shut again with a little sigh.
"Damn it, Trent!" I exclaimed, furious as the assassins sat, wide-eyed, and stared at me, bewildered but clearly no longer enthralled. "What in hell are you doing?"
"You're kidding," he said in disbelief. "You weren't going to ask them anything, worried it might be ille-e-e-e-gal."
He drawled it, mocking me, and I squinted at him, fear of the Withons mixing with the worry of what the assassins could have told us before but now couldn't. "You did that on purpose!" I shouted.
His head bowed slightly, and his lips quirked as he eyed me, looking both mischievous and polished. "I told you I was going to."
Anger grew in me, but I stayed where I was beside the table, sullen. It couldn't be undone. Not easily, anyway. "Dr. Anders teach you that?" I muttered. Memory charms weren't black; they were simply illegal as all hell. It didn't make me feel any better, though.
On the floor, the woman felt her chin, shocked when her fingertips came back wet with blood. "Um. Whoa," she said, looking tense but harmless. "I guess that explains why I have no idea who you people are or how I got here."
Her companion nudged her to be quiet, clearly not remembering anything, either, but knowing enough to keep his mouth shut. Bad. This was so bad. Two illegal charms, and if Trent got to the West Coast, he'd probably try to pin them on me if I didn't become his indentured servant. Damn it back to the Turn! I wasn't going to play this game!
Jenks dropped from where he'd been checking on his kids. His hand was on the butt of his sword, and he looked ready to give Trent a lobotomy. "I had more to ask them, even if she didn't."
"You wanted to know who sent them. Now you do. It was wearing off," Trent insisted, but I could see a hint of unease in him. "Our only other option was to kill them."
"Our?" I barked sarcastically. "There is no 'our.' This is your doing, not mine." I spun as Jill started to get up, her alarm obvious. "Park it, Jill!" I said, but it wasn't until Ivy cleared her throat that both of them checked their upward motion and slid back down.
"My name isn't Jill..." the woman started.
"It is today. So sit down and shut up until I tell you that you can leave. Got it?"
"Shit," the man said sourly as he thumped his head back against the fridge and eyed me in mistrust. "I don't know who was supposed to pay us. Do you?" Jill shook her head. She looked too confused for it to be an act. "Awww, man!" the guy added. "I don't even know where I left my stuff. This sucks."
"See?" Trent said confidently, but that worry wrinkle above his eyes was still there. "It worked. Now we can let them go and be on our way with their employers still thinking we are here." He smiled, and I hated him. "They won't be expected to check in for twenty-four hours. We could be long gone by sunset."
Jenks's wings hummed, and Ivy's face lost its expression. "Sunset?" she said, and I grimaced. She wasn't going to like this, but it didn't matter. I wasn't helping Trent. Not after this. He had stood in my kitchen and performed two illegal charms, one of them black. Ceri was rubbing off on him and not in a good way.
"I'm not going anywhere with you, you little shoemaker," I said, trying to figure out what to do with these two. "Especially after that little stunt. Not in a plane, not in a car, not on a train...you've gone too far." I blinked. What the hell?
"Ah, Rachel?" Ivy touched me, and I jumped. "What's this about Trent needing your help. Help for what?"
Jenks hummed his wings for her attention, smirking at Trent as he said, "Trent wants Rachel's help. Quen won't do it. Trent says it's because Quen won't leave Ceri, but I think the little cookie maker plans to speak out against Rachel at the, uh, big meeting to get her under his thumb again, and Quen refuses to be a part of it. Trent won't have anything on her after she nullifies his familiar mark, so he has to move fast."
Jenks smiled at Trent, and Trent sighed. "It's not like that at all," he said, but his confidence was wearing thin.
Ivy glanced quickly at me before turning back to Jenks. "Not going to happen."
Shrugging, Jenks landed on the center counter where he could watch everyone. "Or Trent's telling the truth, and he's afraid of the weenie assassins here."
Jack scowled, and Jill made a little huff of sound, but I was glad Jenks hadn't dropped any names. They'd forgotten who had sent them and didn't need any reminders.
Trent frowned, one hand behind his back as he turned to me. Shoulders stiff, he asked, "Will you do it?"
I could not believe this, and I pointed at the two assassins sitting in front of my fridge. "No!" I said firmly. "I'm not helping you. Especially now."
Trent shifted, his confident poise lost when his hand slipped from behind his back. "They tried to kill me," he said, his brow furrowed as he glared at them. "You saw them!"
"Yeah?" I spouted off. "They weren't very good at it!"
Jenks was laughing, but I was mad and ready to throw Trent out. Throw them all out. Standing by the table, I dropped my forehead into my hands and rubbed at my temples. From the floor Jack sighed. "My old lady is going to be pissed. Her, I remember."
I pulled my head up. "Get out," I said bluntly. "Get up and get out. Both of you."
For a moment, Jack and Jill stared at me, but when Jenks clattered his wings threateningly, they slowly got to their feet. Okay, I knew who'd sent them, and it only solidified in my mind that I wasn't leaving Cincinnati on Trent's private jet. He was still lying to me. Son of a bastard.
"I don't feel so good," the woman said as she held her stomach and limped forward.
Jenks laughed bitterly. "That's because we beat you up. You cried like a baby."
The two people shuffled toward the door, feeling body parts as they began to complain. Jill looked at the weapons on the counter, but when I shook my head, they filed out under a pixy escort. Ivy seemed surprised that I was simply letting them go, but I had to be on a plane tomorrow at eight. I didn't have time for an extended smackdown.
"Jenks, you'd better tell your kids to leave them alone unless they come back," I murmured, and he flew up on a column of silver dust.
"Yeah-h-h-h-h," he drawled, his focus vacant as he imagined it. "I'll be right back."
He was gone in an instant, and from the front of the church, I could hear him shrill something, and then the door opening and closing. I turned to look at my kitchen, defiled by elven black magic. It wouldn't leave a visible mark, but it left me uneasy just the same. Al might be able to smell it.
"You, too, Trent," I said, listlessly picking up the roll of paper towels and trying to wipe the pixy footprints off the stainless steel. Trent's curse lay assembled on the counter, but he could just suck my toes and die for all I cared.
"I'm not leaving until you untwist the curse," he said stiffly. "It's all there. Do it now."
I hesitated in my motions to clean the counter. Ivy cleared her throat, and I felt more than saw her take up a stance. Still not looking up, I continued to clean the counter, picking up the scrying mirror and setting it down. Then the magnetic chalk, the five candles, the stick of redwood. He could go to hell. "Good-bye, Trent," I muttered, my head starting to hurt.
"Excuse me?"
His voice was harsh, and I balled up the paper towel, standing with my fists on the counter so I wouldn't jump over it and strangle him. "I don't trust you," I said softly, my knuckles going white from the pressure. "If I take that curse off now, you won't want me for anything and will speak out against me at the coven's meeting. You're going to have to wait. I'll do it after, not a moment sooner."
From the street came a faint "Is that our car?"
Trent grimaced when his car alarm began beeping, and he looked ready to murder someone as he fished a key fob out of his pocket and pointed it at the street. The alarm cut off, and he turned back to me. "That wasn't the deal," he said. "Take the mark off. Now."
"Neither was your coming over here trailing assassins," I said, letting go of the balled-up paper towel. Behind him, Ivy went to her stash of chocolate on the counter, opening a box and leaning against the counter. She was behind Trent, between him and the door, and he shifted to keep us both in his sight.
"Rachel," he warned, looking pissed.
"I'll do it," I said flippantly. "But you're going to wait until I'm safe. You don't like it?" I said, voice rising. "Then kill me. Right now. Go on!" I shouted. "Do it! Here I am!" I flung my arms wide to make a bigger target. "But if you do, you'll never get the mark off you! You slimy little thug!"
Jenks buzzed in with worried wing chatter, seeing me screaming at Trent and Trent looking like he'd swallowed a bug. The pixy exchanged a look with Ivy, who was now leaning idly against the counter, completely unworried as she ate a chocolate-covered orange slice. Her apparent indifference seemed to make Trent only more pissed.
Trent took a breath and held it. Saying nothing, he turned to the door, his stance stiff. Jenks snickered, and the man spun back around, even with Ivy there. His face was white with anger, and his eyes almost seemed to glow. "You are the most...unprofessional, irritating, frustrating person I have ever had to deal with," he said, and I shrugged. "I don't need your help. I'll get to California without you."
"Like I care," I said, and he turned on his heel and strode from the kitchen.
"Good riddance," I said, then, in a wash of self-preservation, I followed him to the hallway, leaning out into it as I shouted after him, "Go on! Leave! I'll get that mark of yours taken care of, but not until I get my freedom! You son-of-a-bitch elf!"
He never slowed, his dark silhouette flashing into a blinding whiteness when he found the sanctuary. More light poured in when he opened the church's door. It boomed shut behind him, and I pulled myself back into the kitchen.
Ivy was still slumped at the counter. Her eyes were hooded, and she looked...rather sexy from the anger Trent and I had been giving off. Grimacing, I stalked across the kitchen to the window, shoving it high to let in the breeze. Birdsong drifted in, and my hair tickled my neck. From the fridge, Bis sighed, his wings shifting as he settled back to sleep. I hadn't realized I'd woken him up. Peeved, I stared out at the bright afternoon, seeing the dark spot of the spell on a tree. I'd have to take care of that before the pixies got into it, even with Jenks's admonishment.
Beside me, Ivy casually took another piece of chocolate, succinctly biting through it with a snap of chocolate and sugar crystals. Jenks hummed closer, landing next to the brandy snifter on the windowsill. It was turned upside down to keep his cat, Rex, from eating the chrysalis Al had given me last New Year's Eve. Jenks's wings were unmoving and his expression worried as he looked at me, not the garden.
"What?" I said as I edged toward Ivy, leaning close to take a chocolate and then retreating. I looked down, seeing the dirt and grass clippings on my feet. My robe had come undone, and I tightened it back up. So much for getting a tan.
Ivy licked her lips and stood upright. "Do you think calling his bluff was the smartest thing to do?"
I exhaled, shaking as I leaned against the center counter. "No," I admitted sourly. "No, it wasn't, but I'm not going to give him what he wants until I know he's not going to give me to the coven." I bit into the chocolate, feeling the sudden give and the crunch of crystallized orange on my tongue. From the front of the church, Trent's car engine was racing harshly.
"It's the first smart thing she's done," Jenks said, making the short flight to the chocolate and using his sword to cut off a slice the size of his hand.
"Maybe, but something isn't right," Ivy said, clearly not convinced, and I followed her gaze as she took in the assembled ingredients for Trent's curse, next to the assassins' splat guns and knives and my broken sunglasses. An unsettled feeling tightened around my chest, and I fidgeted. I was glad I'd said what I had, and I wasn't going to "escort" Trent to the West Coast, but if truth be told, I agreed with Ivy. Something wasn't right, and I didn't think it was over yet.