The Witch With No Name (The Hollows #13)(50)
Author: Kim Harrison

I wanted to lash out, drive her away. I loved Trent, and she was going to ruin it! But what I did was clear my throat and pleasantly say, “Excuse me, Ellasbeth?”

There was a moment of shocked silence, then, “Rachel? I’m talking to Trent.”

Jenks hummed into the hallway from the kitchen, and I waved at him to be quiet. “Actually, you’re not,” I said, and the pixy hovered close, grinning. “He fell asleep, and I’m asking you not to call again for at least four hours unless it’s an emergency.”

She was silent, but I could hear her anger as she breathed. A small part of me felt bad. I’d vacationed in Camp Dumped before, and it hurt. “Look,” I said, holding the phone closer. “He’s been up for forty-eight hours. Jumped realities twice, rescued a soul from hell, and adopted a dog,” I said, and Jenks gave me a glittering thumbs-up. “He’s doing the smart thing and catching some Zs before coming home, okay? And until he wakes up, I’m holding his phone in case there’s an emergency. Is this an emergency?” I knew it wasn’t, but I couldn’t resist the tiny dig.

“You are not his wife,” she said caustically.

“Neither are you,” I said right back. Okay, maybe two digs.

“No, I’m just the mother of his child.”

I warmed even as I waved Jenks back. “Right, I’m glad you brought that up,” I said, doing my utmost to be reasonable, but wanting to impart a few things to her and the only way she listened to anyone was if they hit her with a stick. “God help me, but I’m the only one who thinks you spending time with the girls is a good idea, and I’m starting to have second thoughts. I’m your advocate for Lucy, so quit pissing me off.”

Again she was silent, worrying me. A silent elf is a thinking elf, and Ellasbeth wasn’t known for her kind thoughts.

“Ellasbeth, Trent is trying to do the right thing by the girls, but every time you force your way in, you’re making demands that make him feel more threatened.” My head hurt, and I took a breath, hating myself. “If you would back off a little, he’d be a whole lot more comfortable with the idea of sharing Lucy.”

Why am I doing this? I thought. But for all the rightness between us, I couldn’t help Trent, and Ellasbeth . . . Ellasbeth could. I might not like her, but I’d seen her with the girls, and she was a good mother. Trent loved me, but if I took away his choice, our love would be tainted with the thought that I’d selfishly ruined his shot at what he’d been striving for his entire life.

I’m not afraid to love someone.

“You said you weren’t going to confuse him,” Ellasbeth said. “He has responsibilities, demands, and now you’re sleeping with him!”

I slumped against the wall, guilt warring in me. “Yeah. Sorry about that. It just kind of happened.” She huffed with anger, and I forged ahead. “But I’ll tell you what, Ellasbeth. Tell me that you love him—”

“I love him,” she said hotly, and in some way, I think she did. She was too bitter not to.

“Then tell me you love him enough to support his decision to try to ease tensions between the elves and demons, and I’ll drive him back to his estate myself.” Say no, please say no . . .

“What does that have to do with anything?” she blurted out.

It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. “Everything,” I said, even more conflicted. “You can talk to Trent in four hours, ’kay?”

The phone clicked off from her side of things, and I hit the end key. “That was fun,” Jenks said, and I met his eyes, not sharing his enthusiasm.

“No, it wasn’t.” Crap on toast, I was shaking, and I tucked the phone into my back pocket, thinking it felt unfamiliar. “Excuse me. I have to leave Trent a note.”

The pixy was grinning as I opened my door, warning him to stay out as I shut it. Trent’s feet had shifted, and I pulled the afghan up over him, smiling at his face, relaxed in sleep. “Thank you for keeping Jenks safe tonight,” I whispered as I reached for the notepad beside my clock.

“Don’t go.”

His whispered voice slid through me. Warm and content, I sat on the edge of the bed. “I talked to Ellasbeth,” I said as I pulled the afghan up even more. “You can crash here. She’s going to call in four hours.”

His hand came out to find me, and the blanket fell away. “I heard,” he said. “Don’t go.”

He slid to the far edge of the bed, afghan raised for me to join him. “I need a shower,” I said, eyes on my closet, and he pulled me down, arm going over me as he gentled me to him.

“I like the way you smell.”

A quiver shook me as he sighed and spooned closer. It was warm where he’d been, and the scent of him was everywhere, the hint of burnt amber almost not unpleasant. My shoes felt funny on the bed, and I felt him sigh. “I have stuff to do,” I protested, not moving.

He tugged me closer. “I like that you care about Ellasbeth,” he said, shocking me. “She’s a hard woman to understand. Her heart is good, though.”

“Um, yeah.” He was falling asleep again. I could stay until he did.

“Promise you won’t leave me,” he whispered, my hair moving in the breath of his words.

“I already did that,” I said, but I was looking into the future, and I saw myself alone. Why was I even pretending? But I knew why.

“No, you almost left me tonight.” His words were slurring. He was drifting off, not really awake. “You almost became shadow. I saw it. Promise me you won’t go. Don’t leave me. I won’t know what is right and what is wrong if you do, and I like doing the right thing.”

Becoming shadow. I lay there unmoving, suddenly very much awake as I recalled the blackness of nothing. It had been real, and he and Jenks had pulled me out of it. “I’m here,” I breathed, needing to feel him behind me.

“I’ve not done anything really wrong in a long time . . . ,” Trent said, words trailing into nothing. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t move, the warmth between us comforting. Slowly Trent’s grip eased as he fell asleep. I listened to him breathe as I wondered how it had gotten so complicated.

Falling in love was the easiest thing in the world to do. Why was it always so hard for me to survive it?

Chapter 11

Something had changed. I froze, even as my eyes opened and my fingers clenched on the top of my afghan. The warmth behind my back was gone. I could see little in the predawn gloom of my room. I fell asleep, I thought, not surprised. Trent had been spooned up behind me, and we’d both been tired, the stress of meeting Cormel’s demands bringing me down long before I’d usually fall asleep.