Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

again.”
    “I haven’t said yes, yet,” I said, and Quen turned in the threshold, not in the kitchen, not in the hall.
    “It’s said that the reason the elves and demons began their war is because of a broken alliance,” he said, the world-weary damage to his face making him look wise. “I’ve always found it to be true—that the best of friends make the bitterest of enemies. Elves and demons, forever fighting. Who is to say that demons weren’t the slaves of elves first?”
    My eyes were wide as he inclined his head, spun slowly on a heel, and went down the hall. “Don’t worry about reinvoking the charms,” he said loudly, his steps going faint. “Your dad was a good man, but cheap. The silver is too frail. You’ll be able to fix the good ones.”
    I dropped back against the counter, crossing my arms as I listened to him pass through the sanctuary and into the late afternoon sun. Work with Trent? With that dragon in the background watching me? Was he nuts?

Chapter Eighteen
    M y boots thumped dully on the sidewalk before the church, and with a bag of groceries on my hip, I smiled as I passed the red Mercedes parked at the curb, looking gray in the new dark, but still sexy. Ivy was back early.
    Ivy didn’t have a car, much less anything as flamboyant as a red Mercedes, but Nina did, and if Ivy had caught an earlier flight, Nina would have offered to pick her up at the airport. Which was good, seeing as my car was still at Trent’s gatehouse.
    The sound of kids playing in the dusk a block over was comforting, but when something ghosted over my head, I instinctively ducked, spinning to follow the shadow floating between me and the sky, still holding the pink of sunset. Slowly my pulse eased as I recognized the shape of a small gargoyle swooping through the spring-narrow leaves, large wings beating heavily as he or she came in almost vertically to land on a tombstone. Yellow eyes swiveled to me, and then her shape melted into the darkness.
    My steps had bobbled, and knowing they had heard it, I quickened my pace. There had to be at least a dozen that had flown in since sunset, most on the tall wall surrounding the graveyard, but a few of the smaller ones sat in the neighborhood trees like huge vultures. None of them was on the church, which I thought telling. Jenks had talked to one yesterday, and apparently they were watching Bis’s church to make sure Ku’Sox didn’t damage it while he was in the ever-after.
    It both pleased and worried me.
    God help me, I had so much to do between now and Friday. It will be easier with Ivy back, I thought as I took the wide stairs of the church fast, shifting the reusable tote so I could get the door. But it opened as I reached for it, and Ivy stood before me, her silhouette sharp in the light pouring onto the stairs.
    “Oh thank God you’re here,” I said, shifting the bag to my other hip so I could give her a hug right there on the stoop. “On top of everything else, we have to lift two elven rings from the museum.”
    “I should leave more often,” she said, as her arms went briefly around me, her low, throaty voice an audible version of the vampire incense now pouring over me like fragrant oil. Giving her a last squeeze, I stepped back, beaming. Though clearly glad to see me, she was tense and furtive. Her jeans and black sweater were more casual than usual, and her hair, too, was free from its typical ponytail. The new boots she was wearing had a distinctive western feel to them, but she made it work with her sophisticated, trendy jacket.
    A tight band eased about my chest as I breathed her in, her vampiric incense laced with the stale plastic scent of air flight and rental cars. Under that was the sweet honeyed smell of Daryl and Glenn’s masculine scent. They were fading, though, and Nina’s expensive perfume was by far the strongest outside influence. Ivy’s hand on my back trembled, and I let her completely go, thoughts of Jax and Nick making my smile falter. I could hear Nina inside, talking to someone. Jenks maybe? Or on the phone, perhaps.
    “You should have called me sooner,” Ivy said, her tone accusing as she stepped back into the church. But then her posture slumped, and pain slipped into her black eyes. “How’s Quen doing?”
    Mood darkening, I followed her in, waving the new pixy dust aside as Jenks’s kids dove into the bag to see what I’d brought back. “He’s fine, meaning he’s holding everything in, letting it