Flustered, I backed up, holding the briefcase before me like a fig leaf. Quen was coming toward us, and I shifted to make room for him. Trent was in the front seat, passenger side. Huh. He was in for a surprise if he thought he was going to ride the entire way.
Worry made the creases in the older man's face deeper. Gripping my hand, Quen's expression smoothed out somewhat. "Thank you, Rachel," he said as he let go. "Don't let him do anything too stupid."
"If he does," Jenks said loudly, "we'll just leave him at a restaurant or something."
I didn't bother to hide my smile, but I shook my head to reassure Trent's security officer. I had more class than that. I think.
Quen hesitated as Ivy made motions to get back into Trent's car, then he said quickly, "Thank you from me. Ceri and me both..."
My smile grew wider, and for the first time, I started to feel good about this. "You're welcome," I said, knowing Quen couldn't leave Ceri. It was his child she was having, not Trent's. The woman could take on demons and win, but to have Quen beside her as she brought their child into the world would mean more to her than anything else.
"Bring him home safely so I don't have to mess you up," Quen added as he turned away, and my worry flowed back. I was responsible for Trent. I was responsible for keeping him alive on this magic carpet ride. Remind me again of why I said yes?
But Quen had gotten into the sleek black car with Ivy, and I did nothing as it looped forward and around, and left. The sound of the popping of gravel under tires gave way to crickets. A hot summer breeze rose, making my hair tickle my neck. My gaze went to the pale blue sky, then shifted to the cameras on the light poles.
I took a slow breath, and it was as if I could see the entire world spreading out unseen before me, making me small as I realized how far we had to go.
"How many miles is it?" I whispered to Jenks, and the sound of his wings melted into the morning, sounding right.
"One at a time, Rache."
Nodding, I dropped my eyes and scuffed my boots to the passenger side of the car. Yanking the door open, I met Trent's startled gaze. He was wearing a pair of classy, green-tinted sunglasses, and it made him look all the better. "You're driving," I said flatly.
Trent stared. "I beg your pardon?"
"I don't have a license," I said, waiting for him to get out. "The I.S. took it when I got summoned out on I-77 and plowed my car into a bridge railing. You're driving, bucko. At least until we get out of the city and no one will recognize me."
He blinked, then muttered, "For God's sake," as he undid his seat belt and slid over.
Jenks darted into the car as I got in, taking his usual seat on the rearview mirror. "You're not going to swear all the bloody Tink-blasted way there, are you?" he asked.
Feeling weird, I settled myself, my bag going on the backseat. "I've got one more condition, or this stops right here," I said, and Trent sighed, his hands on the wheel, staring at the dusty trunk of the car in front of us. Overhead, a plane roared.
"What," he said flatly, more of a demand than a question.
My thoughts went back to the enthrallment curse and him wiping the memories of Jack and Jill, and I laboriously rolled my window down. My mom didn't trust electronics, and they were the old crank style. "You do nothing but drive," I said. "Got it? No wiping memories, no enthrallment, and no fighting if there's trouble. Nothing. You sit in a bubble and play tiddledywinks."
Jenks made a scoffing sound. "You're not good at this, greenie weenie, and you're going to slow us down if you try."
"You don't like my magic?" he said, a thread of pride in him.
"No," I shot back, stifling a shiver at the memory of his wild, elven magic. "I don't. Calling on the divine for strength is risky, and you never know what you're going to get. Keep it to yourself, or I'm going to zip-strip you."
His eyebrows rose mockingly. "Not a good feeling, is it? Knowing someone has the ability to do bad things and you just have to trust they won't."
"I only do black magic as a last resort," I said through clenched teeth. It was all I could do not to smack the smug, satisfied look off his face.
"Keys?" Trent said mockingly, and Jenks hummed his wings in anticipation.
Twisting, I reached over the seat for my bag, flushing when I got myself back where I belonged. Sheesh, my butt had been inches from Trent, and Jenks was laughing as I refastened my seat belt. Trent was still utterly emotionless, and I smacked the keys into his hand with enough force to bring his eyes to mine.
"She's all yours, Jeeves," I said, closing my eyes as I tried to gather my strength. This was going to be a long ride. They stayed shut for all of three seconds, flashing open when Trent revved the engine hard, jamming it into reverse and making me reach for the dash. "Take it easy!" I shouted, staring at Trent, his eyes on the rearview mirror.
"Watch where you're driving that piece of blue-haired crap!" someone yelled, and I turned to the businessman behind us, clearly hot and bad tempered as he looked for his car.
I went to shout something appropriately rude, but Trent had already yanked the wheel around and was accelerating, leaving him in a cloud of gravel dust. "When we get to St. Louis, we're renting a real car," Trent muttered.
"There is nothing wrong with my mom's car," I snapped.
Trent was silent, staring straight ahead, but I was fuming. There was nothing wrong with my mom's car. Nothing at all.
Chapter Five
A narrow slice of early-afternoon sun made it into the front seat to warm my arm, resting on the open window. I was driving-big surprise-and the wind had my hair in a tangle that would take half a bottle of cream rinse to fix. We'd stopped three hours out in the bottom part of Indiana for Jenks to find something to eat and somewhere to pee, and after that he told me he was going to nap. Elves had a similar sleep schedule, and though he hadn't said anything, it was obvious that Trent was getting sleepy, too, so I'd offered to drive.
Actually, I mused as I glanced at a somnolent Trent, the last four hours had been nice. Trent's face was pleasant when he wasn't scowling. His jeans and shirt made him look dramatically different-more attractive than his usual suit somehow. Accessible maybe. The wind shifted his baby-fine hair as he slumped against the door, as far from me as he could get.
I could reach right out and smack him if I wanted. I hadn't liked his quiet disdain of my mom's car. So it didn't have a six-speaker system or power doors or windows. It wasn't shiny, and the blue color didn't do anything for me, either. But I could do ten miles an hour more in my old-lady car than in my shiny red car and never get noticed. It had lots of cup holders, too.