"But on the whole, a good risk," I added sourly. "If the benefits were there. And I felt like it." And I can't make rent.
Jenks dropped down to his ashtray, burying himself under a tissue and a doughnut napkin. "All this good feeling is making me sick," he said, hidden away. We had the mountains to get through. It was going to be a rough couple of hours.
"I can't believe you let me sweat over this. Rachel, I ate fast food," Trent complained.
"And tomatoes in public," I said, remembering the soup. "It felt good, didn't it? Not hiding what you are?"
A slow smile came over him, hard to see in the dim light. "It did," he said so softly I might have missed it if I hadn't known it was coming.
"And you got to see the Petrified Forest," I added.
From the ashtray came Jenks's voice saying, "And pixies being eaten alive."
"Totally his fault," I said, and Jenks poked his head out, not looking that good. "And you got a vacation," I offered, my own mood brightening. It had been a long, tiring run out here, and I'd be glad to see it done.
Jenks laughed, sounding like wind chimes in the snow. "Vacation. The Tink-blasted arch fell on him."
"Again, his own fault," I said, blinking innocently at Trent. "Gee, Trent. Maybe we should have left you at home after all."
Trent said nothing, his gaze fixed on the road stretching out before us, and I fiddled with the heat until it blasted out to warm Jenks. "I think you enjoyed this," I said, and Trent looked askance at me, appearing charmingly irate. "You had the chance to see what it was like to be in a family," I added, and his eye stopped twitching.
"And to answer your question, yes, it was exactly like being in a family," I said as I leaned to dig out one of Ivy's bottled waters from the bag at my feet. I'd rather have had a coffee, but I knew he wouldn't stop. "And really, I couldn't just pop you there whenever I felt like it," I said as I opened it. "Al owes me big. He wouldn't have done it before."
Silent, Trent shifted in his seat as he angled the vents away from himself. Sighing, I looked in the back at Vivian, slumped between my vampire roommate and my black-magic-using, shunned, demon-familiar beau whom I didn't trust.
All the black magic that I'd done in front of Vivian-asked her to help with; maybe now that she'd seen what they faced if they ignored the coming problem with the demons, they might think more kindly of me. Maybe having Ku'Sox attack us would help my case. Would they really try to kill me if there were worse uglies out there, uglies they couldn't handle? People had died in the last few days, but not because of my magic, and more would have died if I had feigned ignorance and let Ku'Sox do whatever the hell he wanted.
"You sure you know what you're doing, Trent?" I whispered, hoping he knew I was talking about Ku'Sox, and his fingers stiffened slightly. "I won't say it's not like you, because using dangerous things like they're flash paper has you written all over it, but do you have any idea what you've done?"
Jenks was basking in the new warmth, but his eyes flicked from mine to Trent.
"Is it Ceri?" I guessed. "Are you trying to impress her? Be the elf she thinks you should be?"
Lips twitching, Trent ran a hand over his head to get his vent-blown hair to lay flat. It was one of his tells, and he caught himself, lowering his hand to grip the wheel. "I have my reasons," he said simply.
"Yeah, because you don't trust me to keep you alive." I set the bottle in the cup holder and put my boots on the dash, knees bent as I tried to find a comfortable position.
"Trust has nothing to do with it," Trent said as he glanced at my boots, and Jenks made a rude noise. "I trust you, Rachel. I never would have left Cincinnati if I didn't. I trust you, though you're quick tempered and jump to conclusions too fast. God knows why."
My brow smoothed out, and I took my feet down. "Really?"
He gave me a sidelong glance. "It's important to you, isn't it?"
I looked out at the world starting to go from black to gray. "Yes, it is. No one likes to be given a compliment, then find out it's fake."
A small noise came from Trent, and he frowned. "I never thought of it like that. Sorry."
"Tink's a Disney whore," Jenks swore from the ashtray. "Did he just say he was sorry?"
Trent glanced at him in irritation, but I was grinning. "Shhhh, don't ruin the moment, Jenks," I said. "It might never come again."
Trent chuckled, his good mood returning. I could fix that, though, and after a moment, I asked again, very softly, "So why did you do it?" You little goober, I added in my head.
Eyes on the mountains, he was silent. "I didn't do it because I didn't trust you. I did it because he's part of my...quest," he finally said, clearly embarrassed.
"Oh my God!" Jenks exclaimed. "Take me with you, Trent. I've never been on an elf quest before! Ple-e-e-e-ase?"
"Quiet, Jenks," I murmured, not wanting Trent to stop talking, then turned to Trent. "So you've got a way to take care of what you, um, started, right? When it's over?"
"I won't know until I finish it," Trent said. Looking at me in snatches, he shrugged. "I never intended all this to happen."
I turned away, having a hard time getting mad at him. I was too tired. "Welcome to my world," I said, thinking I'd done some pretty stupid things in my day, too.
"I've got a way to take care of things," Trent insisted, but I doubted it. And his usual tells weren't telling me anything. My gaze dropped to Jenks, and he shrugged, at a loss as well. Jenks's going with him was looking better to me. I wanted to know what Trent was doing that was so risky he needed a demon to help him. God, what was wrong with us?
Still...
I looked inquiringly at Jenks, twitching my fingers in the pixy signal that meant scout, and he nodded. Maybe that had been Jenks's intention all along. Sitting up, I looked over the seat at Ivy, lurking under a blanket. She was awake, her eyes black in the dim light. She grimaced, rolling her eyes at Trent and nodding as well. It was unanimous, then.
"I think you should take Jenks with you," I said as I turned back around.
His grip tightened on the wheel. "No."
"No-o-o-o?" Jenks whined. "Hey, if it's about the altitude sickness, Seattle is lower than Cincy. I'll be fine."
I exhaled loudly, gathering my strength. "Jenks is right. If you're allowed a pixy on an elf quest, you should take one."