He was going to take me home because I couldn’t do it myself. It hadn’t seemed to matter much until Bis and I had done it.
“Why?” Trent said, eyes wide. “I was hoping that we could keep each other awake tonight. We have a lot of research to do.”
“I’m in,” I said, but Quen’s jaw was clenched. I didn’t care if we’d made his night more difficult. I didn’t want to go back to that empty boat.
“As you wish it, Sa’han. If you will excuse us?” Quen said stiffly. “Zack, it’s this way.”
“Quen, be sure to tell Zack the Wi-Fi password,” Trent said as he stood and took first my bowl, then Zack’s. “I doubt his phone will work out here.”
“I ditched my phone last week,” Zack said sourly as he stood and scuffed his feet. “Who would I call? Everyone I know is on the other side of the continent.”
He was alone, and something in me shifted. I knew how that was.
Trent went into the kitchen and set the bowls in the sink. “I’m sure Landon would appreciate knowing you were okay.”
Zack’s expression flashed to a rebellious hardness, convincing me that he really thought he’d abandoned the dewar, but I knew better. He couldn’t just leave the dewar. Not when he was being trained to lead it one day. I frowned as I remembered the spells he’d tried to use. And Trent wants his help to figure out how to make their magic work again?
“This way, short stack,” Jenks said, his wings spilling a bright silver as he landed on Zack’s shoulder to make the kid jump. I wasn’t surprised that Jenks was trying to win Zack over. The kid was too much like all of us to ignore: rebellious, powerful, in search of something better . . . vulnerable. Alone . . .
I met Trent’s eyes, totally understanding why he hadn’t turned him in to social services.
“Relax. I won’t kill you,” Jenks said as they followed Quen to the stairs. “Unless you do something stupid like try to hurt Rachel. Or Trent. Or his kids. You can off Jon if you want.”
“You’re . . . ,” Zack started, his words trailing off as he looked over the edge and saw Trent’s great room. “Wow. You could land a helicopter down there.”
“I’m what?” Jenks asked, turning to give Trent a thumbs-up. “Serious? Yeah. You think I wear this sword to look butch?”
And then they were on the stairs, their voices going faint as Quen trailed along behind.
Sighing, I ran my hand across the table to see if it was clean.
“I know what you’re going to say.” Trent began to rinse the bowls. “But what choice do I have? I’m not going to force him to go back to Landon, and he can’t continue eating food off your stoop and sleeping on Ivy’s couch. Quen will adapt.”
“No, you did the right thing.” I stood, going into the kitchen to lean against the counter. “I just want to make sure you know how dangerous he is.”
Trent ran the sink full of water and squirted in some soap. “He’s looking for something to believe in,” he said, getting it totally wrong and totally right all at the same time. “That makes him more dangerous than all the spells at his disposal, which, by the looks of it, are considerable.”
“Don’t underestimate him,” I said as I took up a dish towel.
Trent sank his hands into the water. “Besides, it’s really going to cheese off Landon when he finds out where he’s been staying.”
“And there’s the real reason,” I said, and Trent grinned, but it faded fast.
“No.” Trent dropped his eyes, his fingers amid the soap slowing. “It’s because he’s been taught and told to be this thing,” he said softly. “And it’s a really wonderful, amazing, powerful thing, something he’s already good at and he likes, but he’s not sure it’s what he wants to be. He might not even know what he wants, but to not have the chance to find out . . . ?”
I took a slow breath, understanding. We’d both been forced into paths we were good at but didn’t necessarily want. Actually, now that I thought about it, it was that realization that had let me begin to forgive Trent for what he’d done. I found his hand, drawing his attention with a soft squeeze. “Tell me if you need help convincing Quen,” I said, and Trent nodded. Hard or not, risky or not, Zack would be given