Trent moved to take it off, and I waved for him to wait. “Try this,” I said, handing him a ley line charm to add about six inches of height. He could make up the rest with his shoes and it wouldn’t cost him beaucoup bucks. The usual rate was a thousand dollars an inch, but here it was probably more.
He put the charm on, but I didn’t wait to see the result, already back among the amulets and the more familiar earth charms. “Longer, longer …,” I muttered. “Don’t they have these in any order? Ah. Here it is.” Pleased, I turned, almost smacking into him. Trent backed up, and I extended the charm. “This will add a few inches to your hair. Hold on.” I shuffled through the clutter, found a finger stick, pricked my finger, and while Trent watched, invoked the amulet with three drops of my blood.
“Now try it,” I said.
Trent took it, his silver-enhanced hair growing the instant his fingers encircled the redwood disk. Unlike ley magic charms, earth magic needed to be touching the skin, not just within a person’s aura.
“Okay … you don’t want a bulk-up amulet,” I directed. “You don’t need muscles, you need mass.” I turned with the proper ley line charm. “Try this,” I said, and he silently took it, his weight seeming to grow to match his new height. I smiled as I eyed my efforts. It was a delicate balancing act, one I’d practiced with my mom for the better part of two decades before I’d moved out. And having this much variety at my fingertips made it a real pleasure.
“Rynn Cormel’s facial structure is kind of spare,” I murmured, fingers dancing through the ley line charms. “We don’t want to mess with your weight-to-height ratio, so if we add a few years with an age amulet, and then add a complexion charm to remove the wrinkles …” I quickly chose the age ley line charm, then hesitated. If it were me, I’d spring for the earth magic complexion amulet rather than a ley line spell of illusion in case someone touched my face. Then I shrugged. Like anyone would be touching Trent’s face at a party? And a second ley line charm joined the pile.
“Your chin needs to be longer …,” I murmured, rifling through the labeled ley line charms. “Get rid of the tan. A wider brow, thicker eyebrows. Shorter eyelashes. And ears …” I hesitated, my focus blurring as I brought the undead vampire’s face to mind. “His ears don’t have much of a lobe and are round.” I glanced at Trent. “Yours are kind of pointy at the top.”
He cleared his throat in warning.
“Here,” I said, invoking the charms I had selected as I dropped them one by one into his hand. “Now let’s see what you look like.”
Trent slipped them into a pocket, and I turned to the mirror. Slowly I smiled. Trent said nothing, but Quen swore softly, his steps unheard on the carpet as he came forward.
I went to a drawer marked GLASSES and, after shuffling around, pulled out a pair of modern wire-rims. I gave them to Trent, and when he put them on, Quen whistled low and long. “Morgan,” Quen said, shooting me a wary but impressed glance, “that is fantastic. I am going to install a few more charm monitors in the hallways.”
“Thank you,” I said modestly, beaming. I stood beside Trent and admired my handiwork. “You need teeth, yet,” I said, and Trent nodded slowly, as if worried he might break the spell if he moved too fast. “Are you going with caps or a charm?” I asked.
“Charm,” Trent said absently, turning his head to get a better glimpse of himself.
“Caps are more fun,” I said, inordinately pleased. There was an entire bin of teeth charms, and I went ahead and invoked the ley line spell and dropped it into his pocket.
“And you would know that how?” Trent asked slyly.
“Because I have a pair,” I said, refusing to show any pain about Kisten in front of Trent, but I couldn’t meet his eyes.
Done, I stood beside Trent as he smiled at the illusion of longer teeth. Somewhere along the line, I’d joined him on the stage. Not wanting to get down and look subservient, I quieted my sudden nervousness at how close we were. And neither of us was trying to kill or arrest the other. Huh. How about that?
“What do you think?” I asked, since I had yet to hear Trent’s opinion.
Standing beside me, Trent, who now had distinguished gray hair, a thin, almost hollowed face, six more inches, and fifty more pounds, shook his head, looking nothing like himself and everything like Rynn Cormel. Damn, I should have gone into showbiz.
“I look just like him,” he said, clearly impressed.
“Almost.” More pleased than I wanted to be by his approval, I invoked and handed him one last ley line charm.
Trent took it, and my breath caught. His eyes had gone pupil black. Hungry vampire black. A shiver rose through me. “Holy crap,” I said, pleased. “Can I play dress-up, or what?”
“This is … impressive,” Trent said, and I got off the stage.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Don’t let them overcharge you. There are only thirteen charms there, and only the two for your hair are earth magic and not pure illusion.” I glanced at the plush surroundings, deciding that they wouldn’t sell temporary ley line spells with a reduced life. “Maybe sixteen grand for the entire outfit if they put it all in two charms. You can triple that considering who you’re buying them from.” Doppelgänger charms were legal on Halloween, not cheap.
Trent smiled, a truly vampiric smile, charismatic, dangerous, and oh-so-seductive. Oh, God. I had to get out of there. He was hitting all my buttons, and I think he knew it.
“Ms. Morgan,” Trent said, his suit rustling as he followed me off the stage. “I do believe you’re betraying yourself.”
Swell. He totally knew it. “Don’t forget to pick up a charm to change your scent,” I said as I went to get my shoulder bag. “You won’t be able to match Cormel’s individual smell, but a generic scent charm ought to fool everyone.” I plucked my bag up, then turned, taking one last look at him. Damn. “Everyone except those who know his scent, of course.”
Trent glanced at Quen, who was still staring in disbelief. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Trent muttered.
I headed for the door, my pace faltering when Quen said, “Rachel, please reconsider?”
My good mood crashed, and I stopped two feet from the door with my head bowed. Quen was asking, but I knew he was asking for Trent. I thought of Ceri and the happiness a healthy child would bring her, the healing that could come of it. “Trent, I can’t. The risk—”
“What would you risk for your child to be healthy?” Trent interrupted, and I turned around, surprised at the question. “What would any parents do?”
Tension pulled me stiff, and hearing the accusation of cowardice in his voice, I hated him more than I ever had before. I’d never thought about children much until I met Kisten, and then it had always been with a melancholy sadness that they wouldn’t have his beautiful eyes. But if I had a child? And that child was suffering as I had in my past? Yeah. I’d risk it all.
Trent seemed to see it in my eyes and a hint of victory quirked his lips. But then I thought of Al. I’d been his familiar once. Sort of. And it was hell on earth. That was assuming he wouldn’t outright kill me. I wouldn’t chance it. I was going to think with my head this time and not be goaded into a stupid decision by Trent pushing my buttons—and I wasn’t going to feel guilty about it either.
A shiver lifted through me and was gone. Lifting my chin, I stared until the disgust I directed at him made his eye twitch. “No,” I said, my voice shaking. “I won’t. I go in the ever-after, and Al will pick me up three seconds after I tap a line. After that, I’m dead. It’s that simple. You can save your own damn species.”
“We don’t need