Ever After (The Hollows #11)(70)
Author: Kim Harrison

My anger bubbled over, and I pushed up from the machine, shaking. "Our plan?" I shouted, and he looked up, his expression horribly blank. "How can you sit there making notations! They’re dead!"

Trent looked down at the book, his mutilated hand showing strongly on the lined paper. "He has a book mirroring mine. If I don’t keep writing, he’ll know something has captured my attention, and he’ll come and see. You need to leave." Numb, he wrote the time and initialed it. The pen hitting the paper sounded loud, and he turned to look at me straight on.

Numb. He was numb, but there was a seething anger fueled by helplessness underneath. My mouth went dry as I realized he was on a knife’s edge. He could do anything. He had vowed to keep his daughter and Ceri safe, and now Ceri was dead.

"Trent, I’m sorry," I whispered, and his eye twitched. "This is not fair."

"Fair?" he said, his anger showing. "When has fair ever entered into my life?"

I backed up as he struggled to take one careful, deliberate breath after another. "When fate levels the field," he said flatly, "the rich man finds himself struggling to survive while the man plagued with bad luck his entire life is ironically strong enough to prosper. I’m both, Rachel. I’m both." He hung his head, his fine hair hiding his eyes. "I wanted to believe that love could survive that which fate decrees, that love could remain when all is taken from you. But now . . . The Goddess has surely left me."

"I didn’t think you believed in her," I whispered.

His eyes were empty when they met mine. "Chance can’t build such a pit as I’m in. Only a god."

Trent rocked forward, and I jumped, startled. "There’s no reason you can’t carry on with our plan," he said suddenly, his voice holding a frantic determination. "I can’t help you, even after you find something to bind multiple strengths together. I have to stay here and keep Lucy safe." He took my shoulders and gave me a shake. "I will not leave her. I’m going to do everything he tells me to. You have to find what you need, get it, and make it work. Understand?"

His resolve scared me, and I nodded. "Yes."

He let me go, and I breathed again. "Quen maybe," he said. "He will protect you when you move the imbalance, show the demons what Ku’Sox has done, and if they do nothing, I will be here to kill him."

I blinked fast. "K-kill him?" I stammered, my thoughts flashing to Pierce. "Trent, you are not a warrior poet. If Ceri and Pierce couldn’t do it, what makes you think you can!"

Trent turned, looking furious. "Don’t-" he shouted, a finger pointing to make me drop back, and he lowered his voice, his eyes still virulent. "Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do," he whispered. The scent of spoiled wine and broken fern grew strong.

Frustrated, I rallied my courage. "No one else will! I know you’re upset. I’m upset. But you can’t kill Ku’Sox!"

He walked to the nursery wall and stood looking out at his handiwork. "Your morals are going to be the end of two worlds."

Morals? I could not believe I was hearing this, and I got in his face, standing between him and the nursery. "This has nothing to do with my morals, and everything to do with how strong he is! You were there! You saw! I don’t care if the one ring to rule them all is in that museum, we can’t overpower him. You don’t have a plan, you have an obituary! Ceri tried with the help of an experienced, powerful witch, and now Ray has only one parent!"

Trent’s hands clenched. "You don’t think I know that?" he shouted, and I could hear babies crying through the window. "Why do you think I burned out the fuse to the vault? You shouldn’t be here, either. Why are you here?"

He was going to try to kill him. He was going to dump the task of proving Ku’Sox’s guilt onto me, and if the demons turned a blind eye, he was going to sacrifice everything to save Lucy. Ceri’s death and Lucy’s vulnerability had tipped him over the edge. "Please," I said, taking his hand and forcing him to pay attention to me. "Promise me you won’t try to kill him. You’re right about everything you said last night. Give me a chance to make it work. Trent, you came to me asking for trust. It goes both ways."

Trent grimaced, his head down to look at my hand in his. His fingers moved against mine, his delicate touch skirting my burned fingertips. "You don’t know how powerful he is," I whispered, pity surging in me, and he brusquely pulled away.

"I’m sorry," I said, trying again, and this time, he let my hand stay on his shoulder. It was rock hard with tension. "I’m sorry. I loved her, too. Just . . . breathe," I continued, and listening, he took a ragged breath, holding it. "It’s going to be okay." I moved closer, the bitter scent of burned cinnamon mixing with the burnt amber stench and making me ill. "Stay here and do what you need to do to keep Lucy safe. I’ll find something to allow us to work together. It’s a good plan, and it won’t get us killed." I hope.

For a moment, he stood before me, and then he slowly went back to his book, brushing his hair from his eyes before he made a hasty notation. "I thought I could do this," Trent whispered to the uncaring pages. "I thought I could sacrifice anything to save my species." He looked up, shocking me cold. "I can’t. She’s my child, Rachel. I can’t. If I can’t find a way to make Lucy safe, I will do everything he tells me to. I will fail everyone and everything. I will sacrifice even my species for her well-being. It’s upside down, and I . . . I can’t change it."

My heart went out to him. He had changed, and everything was painfully new. Now . . . he might understand me. "You aren’t doing this alone," I said. I knew the anguish of knowing what to do but not wanting to pay the cost for it.

Heartache showed in his eyes. Behind that was a desperate need to believe. "No?"

There was the barest hint of air movement, and Trent’s eyes shifted over my shoulder. His expression went ugly, and heart pounding, I spun.

Nick. At least I thought it was Nick. My relief was short-lived, adrenaline shoving it out for my hatred. "You!" I exclaimed, sure it was him when I saw his smug expression. He was in jeans and a casual tee, slippers on his feet, looking thin but satisfied, with a clean-shaven face and a haircut that showed every one of his scars. "Did you know Ku’Sox killed Ceri and Pierce?"

Nick leaned back against the window, his ankles crossed confidently. "Who do you think helped cover Pierce’s absence from Newt long enough for them to attack Ku’Sox?"

My jaw dropped. For three seconds, I took that in, the awful truth sifting through my brain. He had . . . Nick had lied to Pierce? Pretended he was helping them kill Ku’Sox and then left them in the lurch? "You son of a bastard!" I screamed, launching myself at him.