White Witch, Black Curse

Edden gave me a severe look that told me to behave myself, then smiled benevolently as he talked to the woman about the FIB's annual fund-raiser while she led him away.

Trent was gazing at nothing in the hope that either I would go away or someone would come rescue him, but the photographer had given everyone the idea that we were here together and they were leaving us alone. I wanted to talk to him about a Pandora charm to possibly return my memory, but I couldn't come right out and ask. Cocking my hip, I tapped my heel once, then turned to him.

"How is Ceri?"

He hesitated, and still not looking at me, he said, "Fine."

His voice was beautiful, and I nodded as if waiting for more. When he remained silent, I added, "My calls are being stopped at the switchboard."

He didn't even twitch. "I'll look into it." His eyes were mocking when they met mine, and then he started to walk away.

"Trent," I said as I jumped to keep up with him.

"Don't touch me, Morgan," he said without moving his lips, waving pleasantly at someone across the room.

Jenks made a noise of affronted surprise, and angry, I got in front of Trent. The man rocked to a halt, clearly bothered. "Trent," I said as my heart pounded. "This is stupid."

Again his eyebrows rose high. "You are a demon. If I could, I'd have you jailed on that alone. Shunning is hardly justice."

My expression became stiff, but I wasn't surprised he knew I'd been shunned. "Take me down and you go with me, eh?" I said as Jenks landed on my shoulder in support.

Trent smiled mirthlessly. "That's about it."

"I'm not a demon," I protested softly, aware of the people around us.

The man sniffed, as if smelling something rank. "You're close enough for me."

He started to push by me again, and I muttered, "It was your dad's fault."

At that, he jerked to a stop. "Ooooh," Jenks mocked, sparkles sifting down my front as his wings made a draft, "don't you talk about my daddy!"

"He saved your life," Trent said, clearly affronted. "It was a mistake that cost him his own. My father didn't make you. You were born what you are, and if you need any more proof, just look at who you settled into an apprenticeship with."

I felt that keenly, but I swallowed my anger. I'd been trying to talk to him for months to clear the air, but he wouldn't take my calls, wouldn't let me talk to Ceri. This might be my last chance to explain myself.

"You just don't get it, do you?" I said, leaning close since my words were barely above a whisper, and Jenks took off. "I did what I did to save your life. Laying claim to you was the only way to get you out of there, and to do that, I had to agree to a very tight tie to Al."

"Tight tie?" he mocked under his breath. "You're his student."

"I did it to save your damned freaking life!" My knees were shaking, and I locked them. "I don't expect any thanks from you, as you're so irritatingly unable to thank anyone when they do something you're afraid to do, but stop taking your guilt or shame out on me."

I was done, and kissing good-bye my chance at getting a Pandora's charm or him to understand, I turned my back on him and stomped to the window. The restaurant had shifted, and I was looking right down at the square. Damn it, why wouldn't he at least listen?

The familiar wing hum of Jenks brought my head up, and I wiped an eye an instant before he landed on my shoulder again. "You have a way with him, don't you," the pixy said.

I sniffed, wiping my eyes. "Look at that," I muttered. "The bastard made me cry."

Jenks's wings made a cool spot on my neck. "Want me to pixy him?"

"No. But now I don't have the chance of a ghost's fart in a windstorm to get that Pandora charm." That's not really what was bothering me, though. It was Trent. Why did I even care what he thought?

The soft scuff of a shoe on flat carpet and Jenks's soft oath brought me around, shocked to see Trent. He had a glass in his hand, and he extended it. "Here's your water," he said loudly, his jaw clenched.

I looked him up and down, wondering what the devil was going on. Behind him, Quen was doing his security thing, arms crossed and expression severe. It was obvious that Quen had made him come over. Sighing, I took the glass, turning to look out the window in the attempt to divorce myself from everything. I needed to find a quiet place, out of the way. "Jenks, could you see if the bathroom is clear?"

The pixy's wings buzzed a warning, but he lifted from my shoulder. "Sure, Rache."

In an instant he was gone, leaving in his path delighted coos of sound from some of the older ladies. "I don't have anything to say to you right now," I said softly to Trent.

Trent shifted to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. Together we looked over the edge to the mass of people down below. I should have just taken my chances in the parking garage as I had originally planned. This was starting to have all the signs of one of my famous backfires.