A Perfect Blood

wheels in case I wanted to sit. With a soft sigh, he jingled a wad of keys from his pocket and brought to life the entire lower half of the panel. The keys were unusual. Trent liked his gadgetry card system, and I wondered if the recent break-in might have something to do with it.
    The doors slid shut, but we didn’t move as Trent punched buttons. “I’m glad you want to take the charm off,” he said, his thoughts clearly on something else. “What complications?”
    I glanced at the chair, wishing I didn’t hurt so much. “You know I put a hole in the ever-after when I made that ley line. The demons’ reality is shrinking, and if the ever-after goes, the source of magic goes with it. That’s not even touching on how angry they are about me helping you fix the elves’ genome. If I can’t keep myself on this side of the ley lines, my life is going to be a living hell.”
    Trent turned from the panel as we started to descend. “Minor details. You won’t have to worry about the shrinking ever-after for a generation. As for the other, you are not going to be taken, so don’t worry about it.”
    I looked him up and down in disbelief, not liking his confidence when I was the one in trouble, not him. “Don’t you dare belittle my fears!” I said, my eyes narrowing. Weight on my crutch, I held my arm up, showing him the bracelet. “I sat in a cage and watched them do that horrible thing to Winona. I was helpless. I don’t want to be helpless anymore. I want to get this damn thing off, and it just keeps getting harder!”
    Trent sighed, infuriating me. “Fine. After we look at the lab, we’ll look at your options. It can’t be that much of an issue. It’s just a little imbalance. I won’t let Al take you, Rachel. Trust me.”
    Right. I couldn’t stand upright anymore, and I grabbed for the handle of the chair, sullen as I sat down, my entire right side aching. “I don’t care what you have come up with to keep Al under control, he’s going to blow through it like a pixy through tissue paper, and I will be stuck in the ever-after. Again.” I looked up at his confidence. “And this time, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Thanks a hell of a lot, Trent.”
    His grip tightened on my crutch. “Why are you always angry with me?”
    I looked up at him, aching everywhere, frustrated that I hadn’t been able to stop what they’d done to Winona, embarrassed that I had to show my weakness in front of him by sitting down, angry with everything. “You want the short list or the long one?”
    “I’m tired of it,” he said calmly, but the rims of his ears were red and his motions to prop the crutch in a corner were too fast. “Ever since camp you’ve been picking at me and my ideas.”
    Picking at him? “ You are the one doing stuff to irritate me, ” I said, heart pounding. “Shall I start with today and go backward? You hit me with a pain charm—”
    “You got in the way. I apologized for that,” he interrupted, his green eyes squinting.
    “You put me in a cage. Made me fight for my life in the rat fights!”
    He smacked a button on the panel, and the lift eased to a jerky halt. In the distance, a faint buzzer sounded. “Your life was never in danger, and I apologized for that, too.” His eyes were virulent, and something in me liked it.
    “You hunted me like an animal!” I said, his anger fueling my own.
    Smelling of ozone and broken trees, Trent leaned over me, his hands on the arms of the chair and his suit coat open to show his trim waist. “You broke into my desk,” he said tightly. “You stole something that could put me and my entire species in the ground. You think I’m going to ignore that? I wouldn’t hunt you now. ”
    The chair shook as he pushed himself up and away again, standing with a fist on his hip and his stance tight.
    Fine. I could write that one off. But it was easy to come up with things about Trent that irritated me. “You kill people,” I said, coming out with what really bothered me. “All the time. I hate it.”
    “And you can’t.” His voice was mocking, pissing me off as he turned to face me. “Someday you’ll thank me for that particular skill. I’m not proud of that ability, but I’m glad I have it. And you’re alive because of it. I’m not asking for gratitude, but stop rubbing my nose in the ugly things I do to help you that you are afraid to do yourself.”
    Oh. My. God. He thought the ability to kill people was a skill? “You murder