“It’s Doyle,” Pike said, having regained her side, and the I.S. officer fidgeted. “I believe he’s trying to serve her a warrant.”
Constance’s rapid pace faltered. “You work for me?” she said, her eyes narrowed as she closed the gap between us. “Go stand with the rest,” she barked at the man.
Doyle inclined his head, motions stiff as he turned on a heel and walked to his car.
Constance was staring at me when my attention returned, her perfectly glossed lips and narrowly plucked eyebrows twisted into a mocking confidence as her fingers toyed with her jewelry as if the multitude of strands held a secret she was dying to share. The lights from the moving wheel played on her, turning her a surreal, ever-changing blue and gold. Pike was unusually quiet beside her, his expression unreadable. “You were serious about only one,” she said flatly as she eyed Trent.
“I only need one,” I said, quashing my guilt for having Trent at my side when I was talking about Jenks.
She sighed in annoyance, turning to wave her slowly encroaching entourage back. “How very old-school. Fine. We will do this with minimal staff. Pike?”
I jerked, catching myself when she turned with a vampire quickness and strode to the wheel. “Stop the wheel so we can get on,” she demanded, and Pike gave me a silent look before jogging to the controls.
“On the wheel? Is she kidding?” Trent said as Constance halted with her tiny toes edging the white line as if staying behind it was the most important rule in the world.
A small confined space going up and down and in circles with two vampires? What could go wrong? “Ah, I thought we could sit in the open beside the memorial?” I said, and Constance beamed a long-toothed smile at me. The pheromones would be overpowering in the tiny, glassed space—and she knew it.
“No. Pike insists that you have considerable back-alley support.” Her eyes closed as she breathed in the night as if able to smell David at the outskirts. “I’m taking that away. Pike?” She turned back to him, smiling wide. “This next car is fine.”
The gondola came to a hydraulic-hissing stop. Pike lurched forward, his burn-reddened hands fumbling at the door lock before he managed it and it swung open. The usual attendant was long gone. “Leave your bag,” Constance directed as she strode into the car and sat down on the wide, long bench, patting it in invitation. “Trent, you’ll be beside me. Pike and Morgan will be across from us. Boy, girl. Boy, girl.”
I was not leaving my bag, and I took a breath, catching Trent’s elbow when he shifted to step forward. “I want you to stay here. Jenks will spot me.”
“Jenks . . .” Trent’s voice trailed off, a myriad of emotions crossing him in the chancy light from the wheel.
I turned my back on Constance, my gut twisting. “It’s not your skills, it’s your status,” I said softly, and frustration drew his features tight. “You are the enclave’s Sa’han,” I said urgently when he took a breath to protest. “If you get bitten, it’s gone. Don’t make me responsible for you losing it again. Not when you’re finally regaining your birthright.”
“You were not responsible for me losing it the first time,” he said, and I grabbed the swinging door with one hand as Pike took one long step and got into the gondola.
“Yes, I was,” I said sharply, and his next words caught. “Trent, the Sa’han must be more than capable, but also smart enough not to risk himself when it’s not his fight.”
“This is my fight.”
“Only through ties of love, and that’s not enough. Trent, it’s not enough,” I added forcefully when he began to protest. A lump was growing in my throat, and I forced it down. “If you want to prove to the enclave that you are the Sa’han, then prove it. Do your job. Stay here.” I hesitated. “Protect me from outside treachery while I handle this. It’s my battle, not yours.”
He frowned, ducking his head and shifting his weight. “Is that really why you want me to stay? Because the Sa’han wouldn’t get involved?”
I managed a smile. “No. I want you to stay because if you get bitten, you’ll risk that treatment of yours, and the probability of you dying under it is greater than the probability of me dying in this gondola.”
Pike chuckled from inside the car, and I felt myself warm.
Trent furrowed his brow, heartache a hint at the back of his eyes. “Maybe I don’t want to be the Sa’han,” he said, and my smile became pained.
“It’s too late. You already are.” I hesitated, my chest hurting. “Be right back,” I added with a false lightness, and Jenks dropped down to hover between us.
“Keep her safe,” Trent said to Jenks, and the pixy’s dust warmed our fingers as Trent’s hand slowly slipped away. Eyes never leaving mine, he took a step back.
Relief washed through me as I turned to the open door, but worry tightened me right back up again when I saw Constance’s waiting smile. At least Trent would be okay.
The car rocked slightly as I got on, and I went to sit across from Constance, an unsettling five feet between us. Anything less than eight made fending her off chancy, and I began to appreciate her genius. Pike stood beside her, stoic and jaw set. Jenks had gone in ahead of me, and he circled the car once before landing on my shoulder.
“He took that pretty well,” the pixy said, and my guilt thickened.
“He’s used to Quen making him sit things out,” I said, but having him there to keep the square open and calm when I came back down with a contrite Constance would be a godsend.
“Kalamack!” Constance called, and Trent’s jaw clenched. “Get the wheel going. Stop it at the top. Don’t bring me down until I tell you.”
His eyes flicked to mine, and when I nodded, he used a simple pin to lock the door from the outside before going to the controls. After a moment of study, he punched a button on the panel and the car lurched back and up.
“Marvelous.” Constance played with her jewelry as Pike swayed to find his balance. “I haven’t been on a Ferris wheel since I was a little girl. George’s was larger, but this is pleasant.”
The first Ferris wheel? I thought as the noise from the machinery vanished and I slid the tiny, mesh-covered window open. It was beginning to smell like vampire, and we hadn’t even gone up three stories.
“Well?” Constance sat before me with her ankles crossed, her confidence absolute.
I set my bag beside me, pulse fast. “Thank you for your time. I’ll try to make this quick,” I said, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to be polite. Behind Constance, the city began to spread out as we rose. It almost hurt, seeing it there, helpless before her. I tightened my hold on the ley line, my neck tingling from the heavy pheromones she was kicking out. Thank God Trent isn’t here, I thought, stifling the urge to take out my splat gun.