The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(103)
Author: Kim Harrison

Trent smiled, his thumb rubbing my palm both rough and gentle. “It comes from trying to live with a human clock for most of my life.” His arm went around me in a sideways hug. “I’m sorry. I was selfish to try to keep you here. Much of this feels like my doing.”

“You haven’t done anything,” I said, leaning into him as his grip on me eased.

“That’s just it. I feel as if I’ve been more of a hindrance than anything. I really thought we could walk in there and still get back out.”

I gave his fingers a squeeze. “And you got caught. I know the feeling. Don’t worry about it. How were you to know that Cormel . . .” I stopped and bit my lip. That your clout was so damaged by me that it couldn’t keep you safe anymore.

“My selfish desires screwed up the alliance that would have united the dewar and the enclave under one voice.” His head was down and his words were soft as he gave voice to long-held guilt.

Dropping my head onto his shoulder, I stared at nothing. “The dewar would have divided anyway, and you’d be married to Ellasbeth,” I said, and I actually felt him shudder.

“No. You’re right,” he said quickly. “But no one is listening to me anymore.”

I smiled in the dark, my fingers tracing the lines of his hand in mine. I’d never seen anyone who had two life lines before. He wasn’t used to having his words ignored, and I understood his frustration.

“Three years wasted.” He sighed. “Not to mention most of my business ventures.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t have—”

Trent’s hand slipped from mine, reaching to cup my cheek. “Don’t even think it,” he said earnestly. “The past few months have been the best in my life.”

He was looking at my lips, and my pulse quickened. “Tell me it’s going to be okay,” I whispered.

His fingers ran a tingling path down my jawline as his hand dropped from me. “It’s going to be okay. You want to go home?”

To a soggy church with no kitchen or electricity? Or Ivy’s parents’ place where the tension was so tight that it almost sang? Even better, a hotel room where I’d dodge my mom’s pointed questions while the news inescapably blared? “No,” I said, reaching up to feel his new lack of stubble under my fingertips, and I froze when he took my hand, kissing my fingertips.

“Damn it, Rachel,” he said, the pain in his voice startling me. “When I saw you on the floor, I thought I’d lost you again.”

He was holding my hand close to his chest, and I felt a pang of guilt for his fear. “I’m hard to get rid of.”

“Yes and no.”

The silence stretched and neither of us moved. It had gone quiet downstairs, and the world felt empty. “Do you think the undead who find their souls tonight will suncide?”

Trent nodded, a shadow in the dim room. “If the curse holds and they aren’t pulled back,” he said, then gave my hand, still in his, a slight squeeze. “At least Cormel can’t blame you.”

“He’ll find a way,” I grumped, and Trent seemed to pull himself together as if turning a page in his weekly calendar.

“There is a meeting tomorrow with a few key people. If you’re not busy, I think your presence would be helpful.”

Apart, no one listened to us, but together they might. “Let me guess,” I said, bringing a knee up onto the couch and turning sideways so I could arrange his still-damp hair. “Whoever is in charge of the I.S. during this mess, the head of the FIB. Ms. Sarong and/or Mr. Ray.” I hesitated, smiling. “Mark, maybe.”

Trent laughed, the sound of it seeming to ease some of the ugly uncertainty away. “I’d really like you to be there, not necessarily as a demon representative, but as, ah . . .” He winced.

“As someone who might be able to fix this mess?” I said, and he exhaled in relief.

“Something like that.”

His hand was on my foot, and I couldn’t help a soft moan when his thumb ran right up the side of the arch and pushed on the nerve that ran to my back. “You know, I’m starting to see some benefits from dating a man who has weekly massages,” I said, and he began to squeeze my foot in earnest.

“Actually, I’d like Dali there as well,” Trent said, but I was hardly listening. “I wonder if he’d come if I asked? Etude, if he could stay awake. The elves are behaving badly, and I’m wondering if there’s enough worry to gain letters of intent from them that would outline their concern and their policy against further elf-to-vampire aggression.”

He let go of my foot and motioned for me to turn around. “Your shoulders look like rocks,” he said. “All the way down to your feet. Five minutes, and that bath of yours will be a hundred times better.”

I gathered my hair and turned as he swung one leg up onto the couch, tossing the back cushion to the floor to make more room as he settled me before him. “Sort of like a species intervention?” I said, then stifled a moan when his hands, strong from reining in impossible horses, began working my shoulders. “That’s old school.”

“What works never goes out of style.”

His voice was preoccupied, and my head dropped forward. Trent’s leg was beside me, bare where his robe fell away. “I’ll see if I can work it into my schedule,” I said, imagining there were better ways to use a couch. Unable to resist, I leaned back, ruining my shoulder rub but not caring when I tilted my head into him and found a freshly shaven patch of his neck. His arms shifted to go around my middle, and I smiled when my lips found him.

Trent’s hands never stopped moving, becoming gentler as he touched my stomach and made a tingling path higher.

I turned my kiss into a soft, awkward bite. Oh, this isn’t going to work at all.

Shifting, I turned to face him, settling almost into his lap with my legs wrapped around him. Arms about his neck, I found his ear and nibbled on it as my one foot kicked off another back cushion. More room. Much better.

Trent’s hands held my waist, his thumb moving, pressing as he began to work his way inward to pull my shirt from my pants. My heart thudded as he slipped behind it, fingers both rough and smooth making a scintillating path up to find the curve of my breast.

His breath against my neck was delicious, and I made tiny hop kisses from his ear to his lips. Trent’s touch became aggressive, and breathless, I pulled him to me, very aware that his robe wasn’t covering much between us. His mouth against mine sent tingles over me, our passions rising, building upon each other.