Landon’s angry shout coming from the loft.
“Your voice will never have weight in the enclave if you continue to associate with a barren woman, Kalamack. Give up your claim to someone who really wants it.”
Oh, God, just strike me down now. “I can’t stand that man,” I said, miserable at the knowledge that I was making Trent’s bid for the enclave harder. “Why is he still in Cincinnati?”
“Because you are here,” Quen said. “And he can’t bring down Trent when you’re beside him.”
“Me?” I looked at him in surprise. “This is all about Trent, isn’t it.”
Quen’s eyebrows went high in amusement. “No, Tal Sa’han. If it was, it would’ve been finished six weeks ago.” He hesitated as Trent’s muffled voice cut off Landon’s tirade. The prickling of line energy drawn into existence skated over my skin, and I looked at Quen. Trent had a nasty, seldom-seen temper. And magic. The two were not a good mix.
“Excuse me, Tal Sa’han. I need to extricate Trent from that vile priest,” Quen said, worried.
Tal Sa’han. My shoulders slumped. Somehow I’d become Trent’s “most valued adviser,” and I looked past Al and the girls to where Ellasbeth stood, perfect and professional, clearly unhappy as a demon played with the girls. It should have been her.
“Sure. Go,” I said, but Quen was already on the stairs. Ray watched him, her thoughts unknown behind those green eyes so much like her mother’s that it hurt. Al, too, was watching, drawn away by Lucy’s demands. Forcing a smile, I headed to Ellasbeth. Even with a lace-and-velvet demon in the mix, they looked like the perfect family. Ray’s shoes and socks were missing, and Lucy’s hem was damp, evidence of their quick departure from the park. I would’ve worried she was cold, but elves never seemed to feel it, even in winter.
Ellasbeth gave me a thin smile in return as she shifted to make room for me beside her. Not for the first time, I wondered what I was doing here, trying to fit into Trent’s world. Ellasbeth was the ideal politician’s wife with a life and status of her own, a respectable job at the university, everything I wasn’t. I couldn’t help but feel my lack as I stood in my jeans and light sweater beside her casual precision. He had the perfect family—or he would if he took Ellasbeth back. Me? I couldn’t commit to anything longer than a weekend. The girls deserved better than that.
“Hi,” I said as I fidgeted beside Ellasbeth. “Uh, sorry about this.”
A weary shrug shifted her narrow shoulders, and Al interrupted with a cheerful “Look, my little ladies. Go say hi to your aunt Rachel.”
His eyes were glinting in mischief, and I dropped down, almost in self-preservation, as Lucy ran for me, her knit hat gone and her fair hair streaming behind her to show her pointy ears. “Aunt Rachel!” the little girl called joyfully, and then she was with me, her chubby arms wrapping around my neck in a fast hug before dropping back, her green eyes bright. “Look what I can do.”
My eyebrows rose when Lucy snapped her fingers, and a colored bubble appeared, delighting the little girl and making her mother stifle a sigh.
“That’s marvelous, Lucy,” I said, wondering if Al had sent them over to rub Ellasbeth’s nose in the fact that the girls knew me better than her. Yep, I thought at his devilish smile when he set Ray down and she ran to me, her favorite blanket with the horses tight in her grip. “Can you make them different colors?” I sat down right on the floor, and Lucy plopped herself into my lap.
“Blue! Red! Yellow!” Lucy exclaimed, springing right up again to smack them into puffs of colored smoke.
But my lap didn’t stay empty long, and Ray wrapped her thinner arms about my neck and gave me a little-girl kiss. She smelled like a snickerdoodle, and I hugged her back, settling her in my lap with her blanket. “How is your riding? Have you jumped Ginger yet?” I asked, and Ray lost her disapproving stare at her sister as she grinned at me.
“It looks as if you were in the pond,” I said, trying to get her to talk. With Lucy around, she seldom had to, and it was my mission to make sure the little girl had a voice.
“Sharps was spitting at the ducks,” she said, her charming voice high as she played with my curling, snarling hair. “Daddy and Abba said it