manager jotted a note on his clipboard. “Yes, sir.”
“And keep her away from everyone else. I want Managed Detail her best frenemy.”
The older man smiled. “Yes, sir. Enjoy your ride.”
Molly barely moved an ear as Trent rode up, but my heart gave a thump. Blinking, I looked away, pretending to fix my boot but taking sideways glances at him. Damn, he looked good, his trim physique—usually only hinted at underneath a suit—defined and definite in the jeans and button shirt he had on. I think normally he would be in full English garb but he had dressed down either for gate practice or me. I didn’t mind. I rather liked seeing that wisp of chest hair and his muscles moving behind his shirtsleeves. Ray looked sweet beyond description in her sturdy pale green riding dress complete with white leggings, soft boots, and matching hat, happily playing with the bells woven into Tulpa’s mane. Seeing her there only layered “paternal” over everything and hit just about every button I had. No. Working for Trent would be a mistake. A big mistake.
“Ready?” he said, the sun and wind in his hair, and Jenks snorted, rising up from Lucy and making the little girl whine.
“Rather,” Ceri said as she nudged her horse into motion toward the far gate. A hand waited to open it for us. “Red is not suited for the track, dear. Why do you insist on tormenting that animal?”
Waiting for Quen to go first, Trent smiled. “You have to admit my methods have good results.”
“Yes, but why?” Ceri insisted, her hand gentle on the reins as she angled her horse closer to me. “Let Red be who she is. She’s better tempered to the Hunt and will make a magnificent courser.”
Trent turned in the saddle to look behind him at the stables. “That mare is going to break women’s hearts and men’s fortunes, Ceri. I want the world to know her name. She will never be forgotten.”
Confused, I turned to Quen. “Red?”
The man brought his eyes back from the edge of the woods where he’d been scanning, always on alert. “Her papered name is Kalamack’s Sunrise Surprise. But we call her Red.”
Really. I looked at Trent, his horse predictably out front. “Because of her color? That’s original.”
Quen leaned closer with a creak of leather. “No, her attitude. Red zone? Danger? We’d put a red collar on her if everyone didn’t know to look out for her already. She bit Trent three hours after she was foaled.”
Passing through the gate to open field, Trent looked at his hand ruefully, clearly having heard us. “Oh,” I said softly, and Jenks snickered, coming to a landing on my saddle horn. Dropping down, he sat cross-legged, his wings glinting and his head drooping in the hot sun.
With a soft clicking, Ceri encouraged her horse to come even with Trent’s and we went two by two. We were almost to the woods, and I was eager for the shade. “There’s nothing wrong with anonymity if one is the best at their art,” Ceri insisted. “The horse is a born hunter. Let her be.”
They rode side by side, the girls they shared between them reaching out to touch each other. “If she doesn’t gate tomorrow, I will let her be,” Trent said, reaching across the space to kiss the top of Ceri’s hand in a formal acquiescence.
Seeing them there, I glanced at Quen. His eyes were tired, but the only other emotion I saw was a fond pleasure that both Ceri and Trent were happy in their familiar but platonic relationship. He was secure in his love for Ceri, and it was obvious that though Ceri liked Trent, her heart belonged to the older man. Somehow it all worked. But even though the girls and their past bound them all together, I was dogged by the feeling that though Trent was a part of this, he would forever be somewhat . . . sidelined. His future demanded so much of him that love was a luxury his fortune couldn’t buy.
And it bothered me, because I thought he not only knew it but accepted it as normal.
Smiling with the surety of the devil, Ceri drew her hand from Trent. “I would have a private world with Rachel, Trenton.”
Jenks opened an eye, and I felt a sliver of concern at her soft confidence. Private word? About what? What had I done now?
“Just girl talk,” she added, but her tone concerned me. She had something on her mind.
“Of course.” Trent nudged Tulpa into a faster pace as Ceri drew her mount in.
I glanced at Quen, worried when his brow pinched. Refusing to look at me, he nudged his horse ahead. Jenks flew up, saying, “You’re on your own,” before he darted off to join the elves.
“I haven’t done anything,” I muttered, grimacing at his chiming laughter floating back.
Sighing, I looked over at Ceri, seeing the faint blush of anger on her as we slipped under the welcoming shade of the woods. The path was steep, and we said nothing as the horses scrambled up. Lucy was still in Ceri’s lap, and the little girl was struggling to stay awake. Ahead of us, Trent and Quen rode with soft masculine murmurs drifting between them. Maybe her flush had only been from the sun.
“Lucy looks sweet today,” I said, and her grip on the reins tightened. Nope. Guess not.
“Quen told me you refused to help keep Trenton safe,” she said, coming right out with it.
My breath caught, and then I exhaled. Yeah, I probably owed her an explanation. “Trent doesn’t need me to babysit him,” I said, voice low. “And I won’t insult him by doing so.”
Her eyes widened. “Insult him? Rachel, we are teetering on the brink of extinction and you’re worried that extra security will insult him?”
Lucy shouted, her voice echoing against the underside of the canopy as she mirrored Ceri’s outburst. Wincing, I begged her with my eyes to lower her voice.
“His actions impact our entire species,” Ceri said.
“Yes, but—”
“They’re all looking to him now. Reclaiming Lucy solidified his standing. If he dies, it will be the Withons who chart the next fifty years, and they’d have us hiding in closets and cropping our ears again!”
I couldn’t even catch her eye. I think Quen was laughing, the bastard.
“We can’t survive another five decades hiding. We must come out, and Trenton needs protection. You think the vampires are happy about this?”
“No,” I managed to get in.
“You think anyone is? You are a demon!” she shouted, and I flinched, looking up the path where Trent and Quen plodded along. Jenks rose up amid a sparking of gold dust and darted off at surveillance height, but thankfully no one turned around. “You are a day-walking demon, and as such you are the best person possible, save Quen, for keeping him alive! We all have our tasks, and what we want needs to be set aside to meet them. Why are you being so selfish?”
Selfish? I grimaced when Trent glanced back to make sure we were okay. I knew her anger was a mix of worry for Trent and her ironclad upbringing that personal desire was a distant second to political need, but seeing her spouting off when she had her happy ending, and Trent was being asked to sacrifice what he wanted for everyone else, rankled. “You just got done telling Trent to let Red be who she is,” I said, allowing a hint of my own anger to show. “And now you’re saying everyone should be what some big plan dictates?”
She was flushed, but I knew she enjoyed our shouting matches since I was the only one who would yell back at her. And if I was honest, I’d admit I enjoyed them, too. “Red is a horse, Rachel,” she said pointedly. “Trent is poised to lead an entire society. He has healthy children, political and monetary advantage. Everyone from the vampires to the humans would like to see the elves die out. He needs protection. I don’t care if he’s insulted. A martyr won’t save our species.”
“I understand that,” I said, knowing she wasn’t angry at me, but that outside forces were