"Holy crap," Jenks said, leaving my shoulder to make circles around Ceri. "That was the damnedest thing I've ever seen!"
As if it had been a signal, the sanctuary was abruptly pixy-filled. My head started to hurt, and though I was obviously happy with how this had ended, I was worried, too. I had to get rid of the focus as soon as possible. "Ceri," I said, waving pixy kids from my path as I flung the discarded dresses over the back of the couch and hotfooted it into the kitchen to turn off the burner, "just what am I to you anyway? "
She had followed me, and I was surprised to see Trent's gift in her hand when I glanced over my shoulder. "My friend," she said simply.
The stink was awful in the kitchen, and I wedged the window higher. See, this was why I liked coffee. You couldn't screw up making coffee. Even the bad stuff was good.
Using a hot pad, I moved the black kettle to the sink, the pops of superheated water startling me when the kettle hit the damp porcelain. "You want some coffee?" I said, at a loss for what to do. I knew she'd rather have tea, but not made in something so dirty on the outside.
"I like him," she said wistfully, and I spun, shocked at the shy tone.
"Quen?" I stammered, remembering him kiss her hand.
She was standing in the threshold to the kitchen, a dreamy look on her face where a powerful anger had just been. "No," she said, as if mystified at my confusion. "Trent. He's so deliciously innocent. And with all that power."
I stared at her as she took the lid off the gift box he had left and plucked an opal the size of a chicken's egg from it. Holding it up to the light, she sighed, "Trenton Aloysius Kalamack..."