“I’m not,” Jenks said, and Ivy sighed, bringing up a new map.

“Most magic-using Inderlanders are asleep then, and it wasn’t noticed much. But if you look at the one that hit you first at the golf course and then again at the bridge, you can see they do shift direction.”

My eyes narrowed as she drew her line, making a slight angle shift obvious. If it had continued on its original path, it would have missed the bridge completely.

Ivy was quiet as she eyed me. “Rachel, it shifted to follow you. They all are.”

Panic iced through me. “Oh, hell no!” I said, standing up fast when Ivy’s eyes flashed black at my fear. “You mean something is getting out of the line and is hunting me?” I said, pointing at the monitor.

But Ivy simply sat there, calm and relaxed, that pen back between her teeth. “It’s not very responsive. After you left the golf course, it took almost ten minutes before it realized you were gone and shifted to follow.”

Feeling icky, I stared at the map, wishing Ivy wasn’t so damn good at her job. Jenks hovered between us. “So it’s more like a slime mold after the sun.”

Jenks shrugged. “You have the same aura signature as the line. Maybe it’s trying to get back to it. Whatever it is.”

“You think it’s alive?”

They said nothing, and I stifled a shudder. I didn’t know if I liked this better than Free Vampires trying to change the world. “I have to call Al. Where’s my mirror?”

Jenks spun in the air to look at the front of the church. He darted out, and from the front came a familiar-sounding boom of the heavy oak door crashing into the doorstop, followed by a woman’s voice raised in anger. “Where are my children!”

Oh my God. Ellasbeth. I flushed, the memory of that last kiss with Trent flashing through me.

“You ever hear of knocking?” Jenks said, his voice hardly audible from the distance, but his voice carried when he was ticked. “Hey! You can’t just barge in here!”

I came up from my crouch behind the center counter, my scrying mirror in my hands. “Ellasbeth?” I said to Ivy as the woman stomped down the hall, her high heels clicking. What was she doing in Cincinnati?

Where are my children? I thought.

Ivy put her computer into sleep mode and turned her charts and figures over. “If she wakes up Nina, I’m going to be pissed.”

“She threatened to keep the girls,” I said as I set the mirror down. “My guess is Quen ran off with them.”

“So of course she comes here.”

I brushed the hint of chip crumbs from my front. “We’re on the way from the airport.”

“Trenton?” the woman called, eyes all but sparkling as she came to a breathless halt in the archway to the kitchen. She was dressed in cream slacks and a white top, matching jacket, a wide-brimmed hat askew on her head. My eyes went to my ugly crime scene photos, and I left them there. “Where are my children?” she demanded, an indignant flush on her cheeks.

“I don’t know.” I fell back against the sink to keep my distance. Jenks had followed her in, a few kids with him all shouting at the top of their lungs. Ellasbeth waved her clutch purse at them, and Jenks pulled his youngest, the one with the cut, out of the woman’s way.

“Is Trent here?” she demanded, then blanched at the picture of the woman with no hair.

“I’m sorry, Ellasbeth,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Is there a reason for you to walk into my house and scream at me, or is this some kind of elven tradition I’m unaware of?”

Immediately she glanced at Ivy, then back at me. “Quen took Lucy and Ray last night. Ran off with no warning. Neither he nor Trent will answer my calls. You’re his best friend in this godforsaken dead zone of culture. Where has he hidden them?”

Best friend? “You shouldn’t have threatened to keep them,” I said as I looked for the phone, not seeing it in the cradle. It was somewhere under the mess, and I began lifting papers. I never should have kissed him back. Never.

“It’s not safe here,” the woman said with a huff, and Jenks snickered. “Magic is behaving erratically. Even you can see that they’re safer with me.”

“No, I can’t.” I moved the chip bag. No phone. “Have you met my roommate Ivy?”

The first hints of embarrassment tensed her shoulders, and she held out a thin, manicured hand. “Ellasbeth Withon,” she said by rote as Ivy rose, her motion both sexy and aggressive.

“Ivy Tamwood,” Ivy breathed, and Ellasbeth blanched. “If you wake up my girlfriend, I’ll let her eat you.”

Ellasbeth’s lips parted. Then she thought some more, presumptions visibly tumbling through her head as she looked at Ivy, then me, then back at Ivy. I would’ve said something, but it really wasn’t any of her business.

Maybe the phone is under Ivy’s mess. “Ellasbeth, I don’t know where the girls are. Hold on a sec. Let me call Trent.”

“He won’t take my calls,” she said, still by the door and now holding her purse before her like a little shield. “Those girls are mine!”

“Not for the next three months they aren’t,” I said, giving up on the landline and getting my cell phone from my bag on the table.

Jenks finally got his kids out—through the hole in the kitchen window screen since they were too afraid to go past Ellasbeth. I hit Trent’s number and put the phone to my ear, noting Ellasbeth’s annoyance that I had him on speed dial. I could sympathize, and it probably didn’t help that she was cranky from having been in the air the last six hours or so, but she shouldn’t have threatened to keep the girls.

Ellasbeth glanced at my scrying mirror nervously, and the line clicked open on the third ring.

“Rachel. Get your car back?” Trent asked cheerfully. “How did the FIB meeting go? Did Edden tell you the undead are asleep? No wonder it’s a mess out there.”

His voice had been loud enough for Jenks to hear, way over by the fridge, and by Ellasbeth’s thinly hidden anger, I figured she could hear it too. “Car is in the carport, thanks. Edden told me about the undead. I’m waiting to hear back from David about those Free Vampires, but I need to talk to you about something Ivy pieced together if you have the time.”

“Now’s good,” he said, and I glanced at Ellasbeth as she flipped her strawlike hair from her face. It looked fake next to Trent’s and Lucy’s transparent blond, and I knew it bothered her.

“I’d rather tell you in person,” I said, holding the woman’s eyes. “Ah, Ellasbeth is standing in my kitchen.”

Ellasbeth lurched into motion, her thin hand reaching. “Give me the phone.”

Jenks darted down and away, coming to a sword-swinging halt by my ear. My pulse jumped, and Ivy jerked at the sudden smack of adrenaline. “Excuse me! I am not your employee,” I said, and she dropped back, shocked when she realized Jenks had scored on her and her knuckle was bleeding from a small scratch.

I backed up to put more space between us, phone at my ear. Lucy’s voice was in the background, her words simple but clear, but on the chance Trent didn’t want Ellasbeth to know where they were, I simply said, “She wants to know where the girls are.”

His sigh was a long exhalation. “I’m sorry. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

I glanced at the clock on the stove. It took longer than that for me to get out to his estate. “Really?”

“Quen didn’t pack anything when she threatened to keep them, and they outgrew everything I have. We went shopping. The Hollows has had fewer misfires.”

My smile was unstoppable as I imagined the two of them handling the girls with grace, both of them proficient daddies. “Fifteen. See you then.”

Pleased at the chance to see the girls, I clicked off and shoved my phone into my back pocket. My smile faded as I realized everyone was staring at me. My finger was wound around a strand of hair. I didn’t remember having done that, and I untangled it, embarrassed. “What?”

Jenks hummed his wings, and I didn’t like that knowing look he and Ivy were sharing.

Ellasbeth shifted her shoulders, clearly uncomfortable for having crashed our church, but not willing to sit down until invited. “I wanted to talk to him,” she said, temper frayed.

“Well, he didn’t want to talk to you.” I barely breathed the words, but I knew she heard me. “And lower your voice. Not everyone sleeps in four-hour naps. You want to sit down? He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

Ellasbeth looked at my chair pulled up to Ivy’s, then edged around it to sit at the far end of the table by the fridge. No one ever sat there, and she looked stiff. “I’m sorry for bursting in on you. I was understandably distressed.”

Distressed? I glanced at the mostly full coffeepot. And that makes it okay? I thought, and Ivy shook her head, bringing up her computer’s screen now that Ellasbeth couldn’t see it. “No doubt,” I said, getting a mug from the cupboard.

“Yes, but if you don’t start treating me with respect—”

I set the empty cup beside her, leaning in to cut her words off. That big honking engagement ring was still on her finger, catching the light like Jenks’s wings. Who in hell does she think she is? “I’ll start treating you with respect as soon as you give it, missy.”

“She called her missy,” Jenks said, and Ivy raised a finger to high-five him.

I pushed back, letting her breathe again. “You walked into my house uninvited. Threatened my roommate.”

“I did not!” she huffed, indignant as she looked at Ivy.

“I was talking about Jenks. You reneged on your agreement with Trent, and if he wanted to talk to you, he would’ve answered your calls. He’s on his way here, and you’re welcome to stay until he gets here because I heard the cabdriver dump your luggage and drive off right after you got out.”

Long face becoming longer, she sat stiffly, making me wonder if she was going to cry. I was trying to be calm, not only because it looked good but because an easily unbalanced vampire was sleeping in the next room over and Ellasbeth was kicking out enough anger to wake the dead.

“Now, would you like some coffee while you wait?”

“Yes, thank you.” Her voice was softer, not subdued, but it had lost that I-sneeze-sunshine lilt she had. “I’ve been up for hours.”

“Welcome to the club.” I took the pot to her and filled her mug. She made sure I saw that ring again, and Ivy quietly went back to work.

“Actually, I’m glad to have this time with you,” Ellasbeth said, and I leaned back against the counter. “May I be frank?”

You can be Frank, Paul, or Simon, I don’t care, I thought, and Jenks snickered as he sat at the window where he could watch his kids as he sharpened his sword. He knew the joke. “I wish you would.”

Ellasbeth eyed Ivy across the table. “Alone?”

Ivy’s eyes met mine, and I sighed. “Sure. Garden okay?”

Again she looked at Ivy, as if wondering why the woman wasn’t leaving. Grimacing, Ellasbeth stood. “That’s fine.” Heels clacking and purse held tight to herself, she set her mug down and headed out, already knowing the way. She’d been here once before to pick up Lucy when I’d rescued her from Ku’Sox.

Jenks landed on my shoulder as I went to follow. “You want me to keep an eye on you?”

“No. Yes.” I hesitated. I’d likely be more vocal in my opinions if we were out of the church and away from Nina. “Eye, yes. Ears, no.”

He flew backward, out of my way. “You’re no fun.”

Ivy took the pen from between her teeth. “Be nice,” she said, and I smiled, then hustled to catch the screen door before it slammed.

Ellasbeth was already outside, her cream heels looking odd in the sun-starved grass that eked out a living under the big tree. Her nose was wrinkled, and I could hear pixies in the branches. I hoped to God that they wouldn’t start dropping things on us. “Okay, shoot,” I said as I came down the stairs, and she turned to me, that ring of hers sparkling even in the dim light.

“I’d like to ask you to stop confusing Trent.”

Tired, I sat down at the picnic table, the wood still slightly damp from the last rain. “No problem.” I’d missed a chip, and I flicked it off me.

“Stop being so flippant,” she said, frowning. “I’m not blind. You’re confusing him. Making this harder than it needs to be.”

For who? You or him? “Ellasbeth, Trent and I already had this talk.” And then we went on a date. “As long as Quen is making the trek out to your place every three months, I’m going to be doing security while he’s gone. I know he’s going to marry you, and quite frankly, I can’t stomach the idea of being a mistress even if I did like him that way.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “So as long as Quen keeps leaving, I’m the one for the job. And it is a job.”

She was eyeing me, looking for lies, her hat shading her face whereas it shone hot and full on mine. “Then you’re not . . .”

Guilt tugged at me. Want was not an action. “I’m not sleeping with him, no.” Damn fine kiss, though. “Never have.” My gut hurt, and I looked out over the graveyard. The grass was long and needed cutting. Everything was going to hell with Jenks’s kids leaving.

“Thank you,” she said, appearing to take that on faith.

Reclining against the damp wood, I looked at her. “But if I find out you’re not treating him right, I’ll make your life miserable.”