The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(26)
Author: Kim Harrison

And Ellasbeth had just called him out.

Why is she here? Why now? Wings clattering, Jenks landed on the doorknob, probably to keep me from going in. “Hey. Eavesdropping is my thing, not yours,” he said.

“Shhh,” I demanded, leaning to the open kitchen window.

“You are forcing our daughter to associate with a demon!” Ellasbeth exclaimed. “If you were anyone else, Lucy would be mine by the child abuse laws!”

My lips parted, and I felt my face go white.

“Lucy doesn’t care what Rachel is,” Trent said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s the world I want her to grow up into, and by God, Ellasbeth, if I find out you said anything to make Lucy or Ray question Rachel’s worth, I will never let you see either of them again.”

“Then . . .” Ellasbeth’s voice went wobbly. “I thought . . . you were very clear on your stance at the zoo.”

“Ah, Ellasbeth?” Landon said, as if not liking the hope in her voice any more than I did.

“You were trying to take her by force, demanding I sell Lucy to you for a birthright that was already mine. Stop pushing me into a corner, Ellasbeth. Stop trying to control the situation. You are not in charge. I am.”

A cold feeling started in my middle. I knew who Trent was, what he was morally capable of doing, seen it firsthand and tried to pretend it wasn’t there. Don’t call his bluff, Ellasbeth. Don’t. But . . . if Trent and Ellasbeth found a way to make this work . . . Damn it, that was why she was here, I thought, seeing everything Trent and I had found ending far too soon.

“I just want to see my child,” Ellasbeth pleaded.

Jenks snorted, his dust shifting to an irate orange. “What a little squirrel sack.”

“I find that hard to believe when you show up with Landon,” Trent said, and I waved Jenks off the doorknob.

Jenks flew up, startled. “They aren’t done yet!” he protested, and I tugged the door so it would squeak. “Rache, you need to work on this spying thing. Your timing sucks fairy dust.”

“I need to get in there before he does something dumb, like open up joint-custody talks again,” I said, and the pixy snickered. From inside came a shuffling of motion. I knew my face was red, and I took a slow breath as I paced through the back living room, trying to get the ugly look off my face before I went into the kitchen.

But it was obvious I’d heard something. Ellasbeth’s cheeks were a bright red against her straw-blond hair. She sat stiffly at Ivy’s big farm table, her hands clenched on a trendy purse, knees tight together, and a cream-colored skirt showing a respectable amount of leg. Her coat was still on, and it matched her heels. If I had to describe her in a few words, it would be professional, smart, classic beauty, and probably in that order. Devious, backstabbing, and self-serving would also be on the list.

On the surface, she was a perfect match for Trent’s perfection—except he didn’t love her. It hadn’t mattered before, but after having gotten a taste of freedom, he was resisting going back. I felt a flash of pride that I’d been a part of that. But now . . . I wasn’t sure.

As if sensing my emotion, Trent looked at me from where he was standing at the sink. The tension rose as the silence stretched. Trent was unusually ruffled, and as soon as he looked from her, Ellasbeth frowned at his casual shoes—then my wild hair.

“I was fixing the wall,” I said, not knowing why I felt the need to explain myself. “Landon,” I added, trying not to show my distaste.

Needless to say, I wasn’t going to shake his hand, and I stiffened when the young man started forward from the fridge to do just that. Trent cleared his throat, and Landon changed his motion to stand behind Ellasbeth, placing his unworked, tan hands on the back of her chair. The center counter was more or less between us. I’d rather have it be a continent. God! I’d give a lot to know why Trent trusted him enough to do this.

Landon looked uncomfortable in a gray suit that set off his blond hair and green eyes. A traditional cylindrical hat of his clergy profession marred his young-businessman look, but it did give him an exotic air. I was sure he had an even more traditional prayer hat under it and probably a ribbon in his pocket. I knew Trent did, though I seldom saw it unless we got into trouble, and that hadn’t happened in almost three months.

Why are Ellasbeth and Landon here? Together?

Landon smiled, but the emotion behind it felt dead. “It’s good to see you again, Rachel.”

Jenks snickered as he landed in the hanging rack. “I’ll bet,” he said under his breath, and Ellasbeth’s forced smile faltered.

“Ellasbeth,” I said next, reaching for a damp cloth by the sink to clean the dirt from my fingers. “I wasn’t expecting you.” I wasn’t going to shake her hand either.

“Neither was I.” Trent’s head was down over his phone as he texted something. I’d be willing to bet it was to Quen or Jon to double security on the girls.

Ellasbeth stood as I tossed the rag into the sink, and I froze when she stood, hand extended. Great. My hands were clammy from the cloth, and I wiped them dry as she crossed the room.

“My apologies for dropping in on you like this,” she said, and I watched her face as we shook, thinking that her hair looked fake next to Trent’s transparent wispiness, and her voice had lost its musical cadence.

Her hand slipped from mine, and I said nothing. The last time I’d seen her, she’d been flanked by a dozen magic users and hired guns with the intention of forcibly taking Lucy and Ray. And Ray wasn’t even her child.

“Well, this is about as comfortable as finding a na**d fairy in your eldest son’s bedroom,” Jenks smart-mouthed, a silver dust slipping down and pooling on the counter like mercury.

Ellasbeth’s eye twitched, and she dropped back a step. “Lucy is my child, too,” she said, gaze darting to Trent as he closed his phone with a snap.

“Then you shouldn’t have forced that barbaric, outdated tradition on me in the hopes I couldn’t fulfill it,” Trent said, showing more emotion than he usually allowed himself. “You brought this on yourself. The church can’t help you. It’s a legal issue, not a moral one.”

Landon cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should come back later.”

“Or not at all,” I said, frustrated. I could figure this charm out. I didn’t need elf magic. I needed someone in the ever-after to pick up the damn phone!