each carefully wrapped around the base of the thumb, where the fate line ran. “After I made a sacrifice of blood to the Goddess to recognize her demon heritage. Yep. I’m good as gold.”
Trent put a hand to the small of my back to encourage me to the door. The stairway was dimly lit by the occasional light, and the steps were cut stone. “My magic is working and I didn’t make a sacrifice,” he said as we filed into the cramped stairway: Zack first, Trent and me second, and Nash bringing up the rear, carefully shutting but not locking the door.
Jenks snickered from my shoulder. “You’re bumping uglies with her favorite godchild.”
“Oh!” Eyes bright, Zack paused on the stairs, fumbling in his back pocket to hand Trent a pair of clippers. “I stole them from the armory. They should cut right through.”
I glanced back at Nash, not sure why he was helping us. The stairs were cramped, and our shoulders jostled as Trent wedged the clippers over my band of charmed silver and, with a soft and certain thump, cut it. I reached for a line, sighing as it flooded in to ease my slight headache.
“You next,” I said as I tucked the band in a pocket and took the clippers. Trent’s brow smoothed as I cut his bracelet in turn, the silver breaking with surprising give.
I went to tuck the clippers into my back pocket with the broken band, starting when Nash stuck his big hand between us. “It belongs to the armory,” he said, low voice rumbling, and I handed them over.
The stairs began to widen, and I twined my fingers in Trent’s when Zack motioned us to hang back. A shiver of sensation rippled up through me as our eyes met. The patch of hall visible at the top of the stairs was lit from lights, not sunlight, but clearly the curse was still in force. For now.
Not that it matters, I thought with a flash of anger. I wasn’t going to risk an untried curse on the baku if I didn’t need to. And I didn’t need to. I only had to stay awake until the baku gave up on killing Trent and took Landon over and the Order turned him into a zombie.
My fingers in Trent’s spasmed at the flash of guilt. Misunderstanding, Trent gave them a squeeze and smiled. “I’ll take care of the assault charges,” he whispered as if this was going to blow over. But assault charges from Dan and Wendy were the last thing on my mind. It wouldn’t be over until the Order had the baku . . . and Landon with it.
My guilt shifted to a nagging thorn of responsibility. Son of a bastard . . . what the hell is wrong with me? I should’ve taken Trent up on that island in the South Seas three years ago.
“It’s clear,” Zack said from the top of the stair. “Just cross the sanctuary and out the front door. Jenks, you want to go first?”
“On it.” Jenks rose up. Dust spilled from his bent wing, but he looked otherwise okay as he darted out of the stairway. The sanctuary was as big as a gymnasium, the walls distressed plaster painted a soothing blue. There were no pews, no altar, though it was obvious where it had been. It was a meeting space now, for wedding receptions, and my eyes rose to the enormous chandeliers glowing with reduced power to barely light the space.
Zack ventured out, his youthful, gangly body looking awkward. I was next, but I hesitated when Trent faced Nash.
“Why?” was all he said, and I hung back, waiting for the answer.
Nash grimaced, his eyes tracking Zack’s progress across the huge sanctuary. “I know what Benny asked you to do,” he said, voice rumbling like distant summer thunder. “I don’t agree with it. And I don’t have to support it. Zack . . .” His eyes went to the far end of the sanctuary where Zack was waiting by the door, clearly wondering why we hadn’t moved. “He can’t help what they did to him, but he wants it to end. Landon would have it go on forever. But the reason I’m risking everything is because of what you did.”
He was talking to Trent, and curious, I turned from watching Jenks arrow back to us.
“I’ve heard what Landon is saying about you and . . . Rachel,” Nash continued, making me wonder if he had been going to say