She looked up. The worry and fear of the last two days pooled in her eyes as she met mine and held them. I don't think anyone had told her it was going to be okay, and upon hearing it-even if she didn't believe it-she began to break apart. Tears welled and she quickly turned away, her posture becoming more stiff, more closed. It must be hard when the only comfort you got was from the person you most disliked in the room.
Trent set his coffee aside, the cup hitting the granite loudly. "Quen, while you're showing Rachel the safe room, Ellasbeth and I will be in the gardens."
"Why?" Ellasbeth said in distrust as she fumbled in her matching purse for a tissue. "I can help."
Trent touched the woman's shoulder, and I shoved a twinge of jealousy away. "If you're open to it, I'd like to discuss the possibility of joint custody."
Ellasbeth's eyes widened. "Trent," she said breathlessly. "I don't want to have to need a joint custody agreement at all."
From the chandelier came a tiny "Eeeeewwww."
"I just want us to all be together as we are supposed to be," she said, gazing up at him, tears spilling from her. "I want my family! What if we can't get her back! What if . . ." Sobbing, the elegant woman dropped her head into her hands and sat alone at the table and cried. Uncomfortable, I glanced at Quen-who clearly didn't care-then to Trent. He seemed unsure, and I made a face at him to do something. Anything.
Grimacing, he pushed himself into motion, pulling her to her feet so he could hold her. That was even more uncomfortable, but at least she wasn't crying alone. "Shhhh . . ." Trent soothed, even if he did look a little stiff doing it. But awkward or not, they looked beautiful together. Sophisticated. "Ceri lived among demons for a thousand years," Trent said, holding the woman as she shook. "Lucy is resilient and brave. The demons won't hurt her as long as they have a hope I'll give them what they want."
My stomach hurt, and I looked away.
"We can talk in the garden," Trent said, starting to guide her to the stairway. Jenks dropped down from the light fixture, and my lips parted when Trent made a small finger movement to tell him to stay.
Oh, really? I thought, watching Trent help Ellasbeth down the wide stairs, a hand under her elbow as she continued to warble about home and family, and how she had been an idiot.
Idiot. Sure. My thoughts drifted back to her standing at the basilica's altar, furious at me for ruining her wedding day as I handcuffed Trent for suspicion of murder. I'd ruined her day.
Ray perked up at the sound of Jenks's wings, and she watched with sleepy eyes as he dropped down to me. "Tink's little pink rosebuds, you two are like dogs snarling," he said, and I scowled, looking at the top of the stairway.
"I didn't hit her, did I?"
He laughed, but I still felt ill. If Ellasbeth was going to be in Trent's life, I'd probably better start kissing ass if I ever wanted to see the girls again.
Jenks landed on my shoulder as I went to help Quen up the two shallow stairs. I was still wondering about that finger motion. "Is he seriously considering . . . that?" the pixy whispered as Ellasbeth's voice rose from the great room.
"Looks like it," I breathed. "If you ask me, she's nothing but bad news. But they look good together."
Quen grunted as he got to his feet, unbalanced from Ray and his injuries that he wouldn't tell me about. Shaking off my offer for assistance, he headed for the nursery, his left leg sluggish on the two stairs.
"Is that what you see?" Jenks said, jerking me back to my last comment. "That they look good together?"
I tried to eye him, but he was too close. "You don't think they do?"
Pushing open the nursery door with his foot, Quen shook his head. "The joining of the two houses would do a lot in bringing the two factions of our society together. I'm glad someone finally talked some sense into that woman."
He seemed genuinely pleased, but I couldn't help but wonder what would happen to Ceri, Ray, and Quen if Ellasbeth entered the family.
"Good thing the man likes frustrating women," Jenks said, and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear to shove him off my shoulder. I could still hear Ellasbeth's tearful protests bracketed by Trent's musical voice. The farther they got from us, the more hysterical she was getting, and her voicing her doubts wasn't helping.
"She is wearing your ring, Trenton!" echoed, and then the door slammed shut.
We only had days, and despite Trent's confident words, I didn't have a plan; I had a goal whose solution revolved around a book I hadn't seen yet.
My heart sank as I looked over the dark nursery lit by a friendly, smiling full moon with cows jumping over it. Oh God, Ceri and Lucy. I'd get them back if I had to tear the ever-after apart line by line. "Was it Nick in the woods?" I asked Quen as he nudged a walk-'n'-ride out of the way to get to the closet door.
"On the outside," he said, and the little girl felt his tension and squirmed to turn around. "His speech patterns were Ku'Sox's." Quen shifted his shoulders painfully as he took a set of keys from his pocket. "His combat patterns were Ku'Sox's as well. I'm surprised the human survived channeling that much power. But then he didn't have to do much once he got Lucy."
It must have been horrifying, and my eyes roved over the beauty here as he sifted through the keys: the well-thought-out toys, the books and figures waiting for pretend-the twin cribs, one messy, the other tidy, clearly not slept in, with a lonely giraffe waiting for Lucy's return. It about broke my heart, and feeling ill, I whispered, "I'm so sorry."
Silent, Quen held the keys up to Ray, and the little girl took an interest. Quen looked distressed. He knew Ceri would be okay, right? "I've been in contact with Dali," I said as Ray patted the keys. "We have some time before things shift. I'm sure they're both okay."
Quen's entire body relaxed. "It's what I pray to the Goddess for."
On the door frame, Jenks shrugged, but I didn't know what else to say.
Quen still hadn't unlocked the door, waiting for Ray to lose interest in the keys. I was all for letting children learn when the opportunity presented itself, but I did have a timetable. I took a breath to say something, then hesitated as I realized Ray wasn't playing with the keys; she was sorting them, her little fingers pushing them around until she found the one she liked with a pat.
"Abba," she said in her high, little-child voice as she touched the keys, and my eyes widened. I had no idea what Abba was, but it was very clear what she was trying to convey.