The sound of breathing drew my attention. Trent was a dangerous shadow at my propped-open window. My pulse pounded. I’d done this before—waking up to an approaching threat—but Trent being with me was new. We’d both fallen asleep, still dressed and with our boots on—probably a good thing in hindsight. “What’s going on?” I whispered.
Trent gestured me forward, his gaze fixed outside. “There’re people among the stones.”
Crap on toast. I pushed the afghan off and stood. He looked as scary as all hell hunched at my window, and I felt queasy from lack of sleep. “Where?” I tucked my hair behind an ear and leaned closer to find the scent of spoiled wine amid the lingering burnt amber. He wasn’t happy. Neither was I.
There was nothing to see in the predawn murk, not even a pixy sparkle. “I don’t see anyone,” I whispered as I tucked my shirt in. I needed a shower in the worst way.
“Me either, but they’re out there.” Trent squinted out the window. “Hear the birds? I’ve been listening to them for the last half hour, and something is wrong.”
Chilled, I held my arms around myself. He’d been tucked in behind me, wide awake as he held me and listened to me sleep. Otherwise, how would he have heard the change in the birds? A robin chirped an alarm call, answered by another. There’re people among the stones.
“Cormel promised. He promised to leave us alone!” I protested as I drew back.
“He promised that you no longer look to him for protection.” Trent took his hand from the window. “It might not be him.”
My thoughts zinged back to the vampires at Eden Park. Swell. Not six hours ago I’d told Ivy that it would be okay. Damn it, how could I have just fallen asleep? Worried, I reached my awareness out and tapped the line out back. Energy slipped in, and my skin tingled where it touched Trent. He was already tapped into it, and feeling almost shy, I slipped my hand into his.
His grip was warm, his fingertips slightly rough. They’d raise goose bumps should he trace them over my skin. He took a slow breath as we both eased our respective holds on our energies, and with a swirling back-and-forth tide of tingles, our balances equalized.
“This is not what I wanted to do today,” I said, hands still intertwined as we looked for the first hints of the intruders.
Trent’s grip tightened at the sudden sound of pixy wings. Hands clasped, we turned as Jenks slipped in through the crack under the door. His dust was a dull silver, and he stopped in shock when he saw us looking at him.
“You’re up!” he said, a thread of brighter gold slipping from him. “And dressed. Tink’s titties, you were sleeping? Seriously?”
Trent’s fingers left mine. “Who’s in the garden?” he asked.
“Oh yeah.” Humming closer, Jenks landed on the sill, hands on his h*ps in his best Peter Pan pose. “Jumoke and Izzy are doing a count, but it’s vampires. None of them is Cormel’s.”
My teeth clenched. “Son of a bastard,” I whispered as I reached for my phone, only to remember I’d left it in the kitchen. I had Trent’s, though, and I handed it to him. “Where’s Ivy?”
“Out,” Jenks said, bringing both Trent and me up short. “She and Nina took Buddy to a vet-in-a-box to get him checked about an hour ago.”
“She left?”
“Yeah. That’s when the vampires showed up. I wasn’t going to bother you unless they moved. Hell, if I’d known all you were doing was lying next to each other with your clothes on, I would’ve told you right off. Tink’s diaphragm, you were sleeping?”
Ivy isn’t here. My first flush of fear shifted to an ironic relief, and I sat on the edge of my bed so I could pull up my socks without taking off my boots. “They aren’t after Ivy. Why?”
“I’m more concerned with who.” The dim light from Trent’s phone made his face severe. “No calls, not even a text,” he muttered. “I suggest we leave the church, circle around back, pick off one at the outskirts, and find a quiet place to chat. Mark’s is open, isn’t it?”
My lips parted. “And let them have the run of the church? I just got it cleaned up!”
Jenks bristled. “We can take them, cookie bits.”
Trent glanced up, a hard, I’m-down-to-salvage look to his face. “No doubt. We can stay and fight them off, but we’ll leave significant damage to the church and we might never find out who sent them or why.”
Allow them access to everything in the hope that they don’t damage or steal it all? It hadn’t worked in World War II, and I didn’t expect any difference now. “I need my splat gun,” I said breathily, and I walked out into the dark hallway.
Jenks’s wings clattered behind me. “We can’t sneak out, anyway. We’re surrounded.”
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I’d feel better with a little more to back my words up with than a smile and whatever magic I knew by rote. I strode into the kitchen, panic icing through me when a dark shadow swooped forward. Almost falling, I slid into a defensive duck. The ley line iced painfully through me as I recognized the sound of Bis’s wings and drew a surge of power back.
“Bis!” I said, my exclamation barely above a whisper. “Give some warning, huh?” I hadn’t been able to feel Bis’s presence since Newt changed my aura, and I kind of missed it.
“Sorry.” Black teeth catching the light, he landed on top of the fridge and gave Trent a bunny-eared kiss-kiss.
Bis didn’t look sorry, and I glanced over the dark kitchen wondering what I could eat without opening the fridge. The light would tell them we were awake. I plucked at my shirt, wishing I’d taken a shower. I knew I stank of burnt amber, but my nose had gone deaf. Irate, I reached for my coffee, cold and untouched, at the table. “Where’s Belle?” I asked, grimacing at the tepid bitterness. Rex could take care of herself, but I worried about the flightless fairy.
Bis ruffled his wings, red eyes seeming to glow as he glanced out the window. “With Rex. Real professionals. No high heels or noisy phones. They know how to sit still and not move.”
Trent looked up from texting something to Quen, probably. “Your life is never boring, Rachel.”
“I could do with a little boring.” My reach to open the nuker hesitated. It had a light, too. Disgusted, I set the cold cup on the counter and warmed it up with a charm. Ceri had taught me this, and a stab of regret cooled my anger.