Ким Харрисон - Every Witch Way But Dead

" 'You're mine, yet wholly you,' " Trent said dryly, clearly oblivious to my thoughts. "The man has no sense of discretion. It's going to catch up with him someday."

Eyes distant and unaware, he put the flat of his arm on the table. My face went cold and I choked, but it wasn't because of what he had done. It was because of what he had said. "Holy crap!" I swore. "You're a vamp's scion!"

Trent's eyes jerked to mine. "Excuse me?"

"The lyrics!" I sputtered. "He didn't release those. It's on the vamp track only undead vampires and their scions can hear. Oh my God! You've been bitten!"

Lips pressed together, Trent picked up his fork and cut a triangle of waffle, using it to sop up the last of the syrup on his plate. "I'm not a vampire's scion. And I've never been bit."

My heart pounded and I stared. "Then how do you know them? I heard you. I heard you say them. Straight off the vamp track."

He arched his thin eyebrows at me. "How do you know about the vamp track?"

"Ivy."

Trent rose. Wiping his fingers clean, he tightened his robe and crossed the room to the casual living-room pit with the wall-sized TV and stereo. I watched him pluck a CD from atop a shelf and drop it into a player. While it spun up, he punched in a track and "Red Ribbons" came from hidden speakers. Though it was soft, I could feel the base line thumping into me.

Trent showed a tired acceptance as he turned with a set of wireless headphones. They were professional looking, the type that fit over your ears instead of resting on them. "Listen," he said, extending them to me. I drew back suspiciously, and he wedged them on my head.

My jaw dropped and my eyes flew to his. It was "Red Ribbons," but it wasn't the same song. It was incredibly rich, seeming to go right to my brain, skipping my ears. It echoed within me, swirling behind and through my thoughts. There were impossible highs, and rumbling lows that set my tongue tingling. It was the same song, but there was so much more.

I realized I was staring at my plate. What I had been missing was beautiful. Pulling in a breath of air, I drew my head up. Trent had sat again, watching. Stunned, I reached to touch the headphones, reassuring myself that they were really there. The vamp track was indescribable.

And then the woman started to sing. I looked at Trent, feeling panicked, it was so beautiful. He nodded with a Cheshire cat smile. Her voice was lyrical, both rough and tragic. It pulled emotion from me I wasn't aware I could feel. A deep painful regret. Unrequited need. "I didn't know," I whispered.

As I listened to the end, unable to take the headphones off, Trent took our plates to the kitchen. He came back with an insulated pot of tea, topping off his cup before sitting down. The track ended, leaving only silence. Numb, I slid the headphones off and set them by my coffee.

"I didn't know," I said again, thinking that my eyes must look haunted. "Ivy can hear all that? Why doesn't Takata release them sounding like that?"

Trent adjusted his position in his chair. "He does. But only the undead can hear it."

I touched the headphones. "But you—"

"I made them after finding out about the vamp track. I wasn't sure they would work with witches. I gather by your expression that they did?"

My head bobbed loosely. "Ley line magic?" I questioned.

A smile, almost shy, flickered over him. "I specialize in misdirection. Quen thinks it a waste of time, but you'd be surprised what a person will do for a pair of those."

I pulled my eyes from the headphones. "I can imagine."

Trent sipped his tea, leaning back in speculation. "You don't…want a pair, do you?"

I took a breath, frowning at the faint taunt in his voice. "Not for what you're asking, no." Setting my mug of coffee at arm's length, I stood. His earlier behavior of mimicking my motions was suddenly abundantly clear. He was an expert in manipulation. He had to know what signals he was sending. Most people didn't—at least consciously—and that he had tried to lay the groundwork to try to romance my help when money wouldn't buy it was contemptible.

"Thanks for dinner," I said. "It was fabulous."

Surprise brought Trent straight. "I'll tell Maggie you en joyed it," he said, his lips tightening. He'd made a mistake, and he knew it.

I wiped my hands off on my sweatshirt. "I'd appreciate that. I'll get my things."

"I'll tell Quen you're ready to go." His voice was flat.

Leaving him sitting at the table, I walked away. I caught a glimpse of him as I turned and went into Ellasbeth's rooms. He was touching the headphones, his posture unable to hide his annoyance. The bandage on his head and his bare feet made him look vulnerable and alone.

Stupid lonely man, I thought.

Stupid ignorant me for pitying him.

I scooped my shoulder bag up from the bathroom floor, making a slow circuit to be sure I'd gotten everything. Remembering my garment bag, I went to retrieve it and my coat from the changing room. My jaw dropped at the open phone book on the low table and my face flamed. She had it open to escorts, not independent runners. "She thinks I'm a hooker," I muttered, ripping the page out and jamming it into my jeans pocket. Damn it, I didn't care that we both did legit escort service occasionally, Ivy was going to take it out. Ticked, I shrugged into my ugly coat with the fake fur about the collar, snatched up my unworn outfit, and left, almost running into Trent on the open walkway. "Whoa! Sorry," I stammered, taking two steps back.

He tightened the tie on his robe, his eyes empty. "What are you going to do about Lee?"

The night's events rushed back, making me frown. "Nothing."

Trent rocked back, surprise making him look young. "Nothing?"

My focus blurred as I recalled the people scattered where they fell past my saving. Lee was a butcher. He could have gotten them out but had left them so it would look like a hit by Piscary. Which it was, but I couldn't believe that Kisten would do that. He must have warned them. He had to have. But Trent was standing before me, his green eyes questioning.

"It's not my problem," I said, and pushed past him.

Trent was right behind me, his bare feet silent. "He tried to kill you."

Not slowing, I said over my shoulder, "He tried to kill you. I got in the way." Twice.

"You're not going to do anything?"

My gaze went to the huge window. It was hard to tell in the dark, but I thought it was clear again. "I wouldn't say that. I'm going to go home and take a nap. I'm tired."

I headed for that six-inch-thick door at the end of the walkway. Trent was still behind me. "You don't care he's going to flood Cincinnati with unsafe Brimstone, killing hundreds?"

My jaw tightened as I thought of Ivy's sister. The jarring from my steps went up my spine. "You'll take care of him," I said dryly. "Seeing as it touches your business interests."

"You have no desire to seek revenge. None whatsoever."

His voice was thick with disbelief, and I stopped. "Look. I got in his way. He's stronger than me. You, on the other hand…I'd just as soon see you fry, elf-boy. Maybe Cincinnati would be better without you."

Trent's smooth face went blank. "You don't seriously believe that."

Shifting my garment bag, I exhaled. "I don't know what I believe. You aren't honest with me. Excuse me. I have to go home and feed my fish." I walked away, headed for the door. I knew the way to the front, and Quen would probably catch up with me somewhere in between.

"Wait."

The pleading tone in his voice pulled me to a stop, my hand touching the door. I turned as Quen appeared at the foot of the stairway, his face worried and threatening. Somehow, I didn't think it was because I was about to go wandering through the Kalamack compound, but of what Trent might say. My hand fell from the doorknob. This might be worth staying for.