Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

friend. I freed her from the demons before, and seeing her cry over having a home, husband, and children when she never dreamed of freedom makes me a tad protective of her when some demon tries to take it away.”
    “I see.”
    I see? Did she say I freaking see? “Besides,” I added when her eye twitched. “If I don’t help him, who will?” My unspoken you? was obvious.
    From Ceri’s high-backed embroidery chair, Quen cleared his throat. Trent had his back to us, busy in the kitchen making coffee, and Jenks simply sent down another shower of sparkling dust, the crystal in the fixture tinkling as it shook from his laughter.
    Inclining her head, Ellasbeth smoothly sat back down. “I’ll make sure you’re well compensated.” My smile froze as I suddenly became hired help standing before her.
    Damn, she was good. “I don’t work for Trent,” I said, suddenly feeling outclassed. Her eyes were on my pinkie ring, and I think she’d recognized it as matching Trent’s. “I work with him.”
    Stop it, Rachel, I thought as I realized I was in danger of arguing with an idiot. It wouldn’t hurt you to be nice. She just lost her daughter, not once but twice.
    Exhaling, I leaned against the counter, forcing her to turn if she wanted to keep me in her sight. “Ku’Sox won’t hurt either of them,” I said as Trent passed between us to hand Ellasbeth a cup of coffee. “Ku’Sox wants something, and this is the only way he can get it. Hurting them will only piss me off, and Ku’Sox knows that.”
    Ellasbeth’s beaming smile to Trent vanished. “Can we please stop saying his name?” she asked, and on his way back to the kitchen, Trent shot me a look to be nice.
    “Why?” I crossed my ankles and leaned deeper into the counter. “It’s not like saying it does anything.”
    “Coffee, Rachel?” Trent said as he shoved a cup at me, and I scrambled to take it before it sloshed over. A faint blush was showing on Ellasbeth. Maybe that had been a tad petty.
    “Ah, you have a book for me to look at, right?” I prompted, then took a sip.
    “It’s in the safe room. Look at it in there.” Chin high, Ellasbeth pushed away the cup of coffee Trent had brought her. Out of her sight in the kitchen, Trent hung his head, his free hand rubbing his temple.
    Quen rose, his motions slow and pained. Ray was slumped against him, the little girl valiantly fighting sleep and starting to lose. “I’ll show you.”
    Jenks peeked over the fixture at me, laughing. It made me feel as if I’d lost something. Damn it, I could be nice to this woman. I didn’t have to be her best friend, just not smack her while we breathed the same air. “Thank you, Ellasbeth. This is going to be a huge help,” I said, but it sounded forced even to me. “We’re going to get them back. It’s going to be okay.”
    She looked up. The worry and fear of the last two days pooled in her eyes as she met mine and held them. I don’t think anyone had told her it was going to be okay, and upon hearing it—even if she didn’t believe it—she began to break apart. Tears welled and she quickly turned away, her posture becoming more stiff, more closed. It must be hard when the only comfort you got was from the person you most disliked in the room.
    Trent set his coffee aside, the cup hitting the granite loudly. “Quen, while you’re showing Rachel the safe room, Ellasbeth and I will be in the gardens.”
    “Why?” Ellasbeth said in distrust as she fumbled in her matching purse for a tissue. “I can help.”
    Trent touched the woman’s shoulder, and I shoved a twinge of jealousy away. “If you’re open to it, I’d like to discuss the possibility of joint custody.”
    Ellasbeth’s eyes widened. “Trent,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t want to have to need a joint custody agreement at all.”
    From the chandelier came a tiny “Eeeeewwww.”
    “I just want us to all be together as we are supposed to be,” she said, gazing up at him, tears spilling from her. “I want my family! What if we can’t get her back! What if . . .” Sobbing, the elegant woman dropped her head into her hands and sat alone at the table and cried. Uncomfortable, I glanced at Quen—who clearly didn’t care—then to Trent. He seemed unsure, and I made a face at him to do something. Anything.
    Grimacing, he pushed himself into motion, pulling her to her feet so he could hold her. That was even more uncomfortable, but at least she wasn’t crying alone.