White Witch, Black Curse

My pulse quickened, and I put my face right by Edden's. "He is not fine," I almost hissed. "And I'm not so sure those amulets are all working."

Feeling the tension rise, Ivy gave us a professional smile. "Rachel, it's getting stuffy in here," she said pleasantly. "I'm going to go downstairs and get some air. Jenks, you got this okay?"

"Tink's panties, yes," he said as he landed on my shoulder protectively.

My breath slipped out in relief. She'd watch him. Good. I didn't think Mia would show, but she sure as hell wouldn't be up here. Jenks and I could handle Al. Pierce, if he wasn't hurt, could help, too.

"My son is fine," Edden said, his brow furrowed and his posture hunched.

"I like watching fine men," Ivy said, and checking that her phone was on, she slid it away in her clutch purse and started for the elevator. "You're the one who wanted us to work the party. I'll be downstairs. Call me if you need me."

Edden took that with a bad grace, muttering, "You do the same. I have a warrant for both of them now."

She nodded, and sashayed off. Not three steps away, and two guys approached her. Don't do it, I mentally warned them, but she laughed like the happy woman she'd never be, and the two men thought they had it made. They were going to be made all right. Made into happy little burgers if they weren't careful.

"I want to talk to Ivy before she goes," Jenks said, spilling heavy dust as he hovered beside me. "Be nice to Trent, okay? You're going to need his help someday."

"Trent?" I asked, stiffening at the faint scent of wine and cinnamon. Jenks inclined his head to someone behind me before darting off to join Ivy in the elevator, and Edden and I turned. My jaw clenched, and I forced my teeth apart. It was Trent, and oh my God, he looked good.

"Hi, Trent," I said wryly as I tried not to show my appreciation, as hard as that was, seeing him in a slim tux that showed off his height and frame. The fabric looked silky and free moving, making me want to run my hand down his shoulder just to feel it. A sharp, professional-looking tie with a pattern that said he wasn't uptight gave the impression of a clever, witty man, but it was his bearing that made it all work. He had a nearly full wineglass in hand, and he was clearly comfortably in control with no doubts about who he was and what he wanted—and how to get it.

Feeling his eyes on me, I stood a little straighter and remembered how good we had looked together the night Kisten had blown up the casino boat we'd been on. Kisten hadn't known we were on it, but thanks to Ivy's warning, Trent and I had survived. We'd been the only two to do so. My brow furrowed as I considered that. We had gotten out of the ever-after together, as well. We were survivors.

Trent saw my frown, and the cocky boyish front that he used to beguile grew stilted. He touched his baby-fine hair to make sure it was lying flat, and I knew he was nervous. "Ms. Morgan," he said, saluting me with his glass so I wouldn't shake his hand.

That just ticked me off. And I wasn't happy he'd been keeping Ceri away from me like I was the plague. Even if I was.

"We've shared a cell in the ever-after," I said. "I think we ought to be on a first-name basis, don't you?"

A single pale eyebrow rose. "They're dressing the help nicely this year," he said, and Edden disguised a laugh as a cough. It was all I could do to not give the FIB captain a backhanded swat.

The distinctive click and whine of a shutter snapping pulled my head around and I froze. It was the Cincinnati Enquirer, the photographer looking odd dressed in a full-length sequined gown with two cameras draped over her. "Councilman Kalamack," she said enthusiastically. "Can I get a picture of you, the lady, and Captain Edden together?"

Edden shifted closer, hiding a smile as he muttered for me alone, "She ain't no lady. She's my witch."

"Stop that," I whispered. Then I stiffened as Trent sidled closer, slipping his hand about my waist so that his fingers would show for the camera. It was possessive, and I didn't like it.

"Smile, Ms. Morgan," the woman said brightly. "You might make the front page!"

Swell. Trent's touch was light compared to Edden's heavy pressure on my shoulder. I sucked in my gut and turned a little sideways to put my back to Trent to balance out his hand on my waist. He smelled like the outdoors. The shutter clicked several times, and I stiffened when I spotted Quen, Trent's bodyguard, watching. Jenks zipped over us to talk to Quen, and the woman snapped another picture when his dust glittered upon us. My tension eased; Jenks was back.

"Wonderful," the photographer said as she looked at the back of the camera. "Thank you. Enjoy the party."

"Always a pleasure to talk to the press," Trent said as he started drifting away.

The woman looked up. "Captain Edden, if I could get a picture of you and the dean of the university? I promise I'll leave you alone after that."