“Depressed, I gazed at the wall behind Ivy. Swell. I was going to have to look at a stuffed mink nailed to the wall all night.”

“I felt my shoulders ease at her admission. She was going to do what she had to do, and I was going to do what I had to do. And Ivy? Ivy was going to go insane.”

“I staggered backward-her one hand gripping my shoulder, the other still holding my wrists behind her-and she followed until my back hit the wall.”

“I handed it over, and Jenks stumbled at the weight. His head thunked into the wall of the narrow hallway. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, crashing into the opposite wall when he overcompensated. “I’m all right!” he said quickly, waving off any help. “I’m all right. Sweet mother of Tink, the damn walls are so close! It’s like walking in a freaking anthill.”

“Jenks’s gaze was even and calm, wise and even a bit sad. The wind ruffled his hair, and the sound of the pixies grew obvious. “No,” he said. “I don’t think you do.” I glared, and he added, “I think it would kill you quicker than going to see Piscary wearing gothic lace. I think managing to find a blood balance with Ivy is going to be the only way you’re going to survive. Besides…” He grinned impishly. “…no one but Ivy will put up with the things you need or the crap you dish out.”

“Trent looked me up and down. “Is that all you’re going to do?” My pulse quickened, and I gazed at the front of the basilica where the scratching was coming from. “I might have a snack later if nothing comes through those doors.”

“Quen's gaze went to Ivy and Jenks.Peeved, I crossed my legs and shook my head. "We're a team. I'm not asking them to leave so you can tell me of whatever piss-poor problem you've landed yourself in."The older elf's brow wrinkled. He took an angry breath."Look," I said, my finger jabbing out to point at him. "I don't like you. Jenks doesn't like you. And Ivy wants to eat you. Start talking.”