Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

is over. I can’t afford it now.”
    I nodded, head down as I shoved my heartache away. War. That was about right. Quen looked capable in his short leather jacket and cap, like a bad boy grown up with a ’79 Harley parked in a three-car garage and a huge mortgage. The child on his hip somehow worked perfectly. Grief shimmered under his tight jaw and haunted eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling helpless as he came into the kitchen and set Ray on the center island counter, his hand never leaving her, steadying her as she sat upright and silently watched the pixies who had come in with them. “None of this was your fault.”
    “It feels like it is.”
    But it wasn’t, and I leaned against the sink, aching at the sounds of Ellasbeth reuniting with her child. It hurt knowing Ceri never would. The pixies in the rack were taking turns dusting different colors, and Ray was riveted. Both Quen and Jenks began to look uncomfortable as Ellasbeth’s noises became louder.
    Quen steadied Ray, and remembering Jenks’s cryptic comment when he had come in, I said, “So, what’s up, Jenks? More trouble?”
    Sitting on the faucet, Jenks frowned. “Jax is around.” The draft from the window pushed his depressed copper dust from him like a wayward aura. “The kids heard his wings not five minutes ago. And where Jax is, Nick probably follows.”
    “Ku’Sox is trying to get around our agreement,” I said as I went to get a paper towel from the roll we kept on the table, a must when living with pixies. Ku’Sox had Trent, body and soul. He was also uncursed, which meant he didn’t need Nick anymore. That made the slimy man dangerous because he would be trying to prove to Ku’Sox that he was still worth something.
    The rip of the paper towel was loud as I listened to Ellasbeth say, “Mama, not Abba. Mama, Lucy. Mama.” I couldn’t help my frown. Ceri was her mama, not Ellasbeth.
    Jenks flitted to the counter, his wings still as he walked to the edge. “Don’t worry, Rache. We won’t let crap for brains or Jax close enough to know what’s going on.”
    “Thank you, Jenks,” I said as I dampened the paper towel and wiped the inside of the sink to get the tiny shards of glass. I had the beginnings of a plan that hinged on two rings I might not be able to use even if I could get them reinvoked.
    Quen’s guilty frown when I turned back around stopped me cold. “What?” I said flatly, and he winced. Jenks clattered his wings aggressively, coming to hover beside me. Together we made a united front, Ellasbeth’s continued efforts to get Lucy to say mama an ugly backdrop.
    Grimacing, Quen crouched with Ray, setting her on the floor, and gruffly saying, “Go say hi to your sister.” Ray leaned forward into a crawl for the hallway, hesitating to study the feel of the circle I’d gouged out of the linoleum before crossing it.
    “Ray!” Lucy crowed, and the little girl’s feet disappeared with a gurgling giggle.
    My faint smile faded as Quen rose, his eyes going to the scorch marks, then the ley line charms sitting next to the dusty box. “What aren’t you telling us?” I demanded, and he clasped his hands before him.
    “How badly do you need that particular pair of rings?”
    Jenks rose up with a sound of disgust, and I threw the towel with the glass shards away, letting the cabinet door slam. “Pretty bad,” I said tightly. “Why?” I couldn’t tell if his grimace was because of the rings or because Ellasbeth was now crying at the girls’ enthusiastic reunion.
    “Ah, the family that promised their use won’t give them to us now that Trent is missing.”
    Great. That’s just freaking great.
    Ellasbeth’s soft, one-sided tearful conversation filtered in from the living room as Quen reached for a chair and sat down. It was unusual, but he was still recovering from the beating he’d taken Monday morning. He’d be on the cusp of having his aura back at full strength tomorrow. It sat sour in me that I’d be risking Ray growing up with no parent at all, but I needed someone to watch my back, and Quen would be shamed if I didn’t ask him.
    “I’ll talk to them again,” Quen said, clearly embarrassed. “Unless you want a different pair?”
    I frowned. The only other pair that had any chance of making a strong enough connection between elf and demon was a pair that touted itself to be demon slavers. “I don’t know how much it’s going to matter,” I said, frustrated as I started tidying, dropping