sneaking in when, by rights, he should have been able to demand an audience with the head of the dewar whenever he damn well felt like it. The look on his face when he’d broken a hole in the back of the fireplace said it all. He’d opened it for Ellasbeth. He needed a closer tie to the dewar and enclave. I was feeling more and more as if I didn’t belong. Or that I shouldn’t.
“What do you think about me not coming over on the weekends anymore?” I said, and Trent turned, the smile on his face faltering.
“Where is this coming from?” Worry pulled him straight.
The cold November wind coming up from the nearby river pushed against me, and I tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “If you pretended to soften toward Ellasbeth—”
“No.” It was a harsh utterance, and Trent put his attention back on the parking lot.
“I thought elves were all about misdirection and subterfuge,” I said.
“Not this time,” he said coldly as he scanned for Jenks.
“The enclave would take you back,” I insisted, and Trent’s brow furrowed. “My God, Trent, we’re sneaking in. Last year, you could have made a phone call and had lunch with him.”
“I won’t pretend to like Ellasbeth to gain political sway, power that is already mine,” he asserted. “She’d not only see through it—she’d use it against me. Wiggle herself closer.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” I said softly, thinking of the girls.
Again Trent turned, his brow furrowed. “Are you trying to break up with me?”
“No!” I exclaimed, eyes wide as I noticed his hair beginning to float and mine snarling up. I wasn’t touching him, but I could feel him pulling heavier on the ley line. “Trent . . . ,” I started, changing my mind when Jenks dropped out of the tree like an acorn.
“Route is clear,” he said as he hit my shoulder.
Trent touched the small of my back, and a lump filled my throat at the familiar feel of our internal energy balances equalizing. I loved him, but I was bringing him down. My head bowed, and misunderstanding, Trent let his hand fall away. It only made me feel that much more miserable, and silent, we crossed the lot filled with newly purchased and rented vehicles. Zack had said that Landon’s private apartment was on the other side of the building, third floor overlooking a distant Eden Park, but the easiest way to gain access was from this side.
My low heels clicked a sharp counterpoint against Trent’s steps. I hadn’t realized until now how often Trent touched me, and the thought of walking away, of making the smart, hard decision, sucked.
Finally we reached the side door and Trent punched in the code. His motions were sharp, and he shot me a questioning look, not knowing where my thoughts were other than I’d laid down two confusing, contrary statements. The door unlocked with a click, and Trent held it for me, scanning the lot to see if anyone was watching as I went in.
“I’m sorry, Trent,” I said as I took in the stark, typical hallway with its carpet squares and blah art on the walls between lightweight fake-wood doors. “I’m just worried that this is going to backfire, and then what happens to the girls?”
Understanding cascaded over Trent. Turning, he put one hand on my shoulder, looking up and down the hallway before leaning in. “I’d rather have the girls raised by Ellasbeth and them see me in prison for having done what was right than raise them seeing me hide from what I know should be done. They will be leaders, Rachel. They must know from the start that that means equal parts strength and vulnerability.”
I blinked fast, my love for him making my chest hurt.
“Now,” he said as Jenks dropped down before us, “are we ready to do this? I need to concentrate, and worrying about you leaving me will make me slow.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I said, though it would be hard with Ellasbeth in the picture.
“Tink save me from lunkers in love,” Jenks muttered, but his dust was a happy gold.
“Cameras?” I prompted, and Jenks darted away.
Trent exhaled in relief before pulling himself to a CEO’s stiffness as we followed Jenks down the hall. I smiled, pulling on the line until his hair began to float. His hand flashed up to press it flat, and I gave him a grin and a shrug. Hodin’s curse was a double-edged sword.