“You are not going to kill Daniel!” Trisk shouted, then slumped. “I’m so sorry. We’re going to make you forget. You’ll be okay.”
Okay? Trisk had been lying to him since he met her. How was that okay? “I’m not going to forget this,” he said sullenly.
“You do, or I kill you,” Quen said, his cool cracking as he looked at Trisk. “This isn’t going to work,” he said. “I promise I’ll make it painless.”
Daniel’s pulse quickened, and he sat down fast, the straw poking him roughly even as the old bale threatened to split.
“No.” Trisk turned away, her head bowed. “This is my mistake. I pay for it.”
“Trisk . . .”
She shook her head, clearly unhappy as she poured a thick line of what looked like white sand in a large circle nearly six feet in diameter. Clearly disapproving, Quen stood and watched as she then set a candle in the middle and a dish of what looked like ash.
“Kind of big for a circle, isn’t it?” Quen asked, and Trisk looked up, lips pressed.
“I’m hoping that with a larger circle, he won’t be as eager to try to break it.”
He? Daniel wondered, edging toward the open door. Oh yeah, the demon.
“It will make him harder to contain, too,” Quen said, then louder, “Go ahead and run. She can’t stop me from killing you if you’re in a field of pecan trees.”
“Quen,” Trisk complained, but Daniel halted.
“This is foolish!” Quen exclaimed. “At least let me knock him out.”
Trisk straightened from over her candle. It hadn’t been lit a moment ago, but now the flame burned fitfully, finally catching to flicker in the draft from the door. Daniel would swear he hadn’t heard a match being struck. “No,” she said, and Quen’s jaw clenched. “Will you give us a moment?” she asked.
“He won’t remember it,” Quen said, and she sniffed, expression miserable.
“I will.”
Clearly peeved, Quen spun on a heel to leave, but he jerked to a halt before Daniel. “If you run, I will leave her to chase you down. If she then dies at the hand of her demon, I will still kill you, but it will be long and painful. Understand?”
Daniel looked past Quen at the circle and candle, not knowing if he should be afraid the demon was real, or that they believed he was.
“Understand?” Quen said louder, and Trisk frowned at them both.
“I won’t run,” Daniel said, but it was obvious Quen didn’t believe it as he went to stand at the barn door, his shoulders tense in distrust as he faced away from them.
Trisk sat beside him on the bale of straw, her head bowed. She looked utterly alone, and feeling his own anger begin to dissolve, Daniel lost his frown. He could smell cinnamon and wine, but he’d swear she’d been drinking iced tea. “I’m sorry,” Trisk said, her voice low.
“For what?” he asked. “That you can do magic or that your bodyguard wants to kill me?”
She looked up, her brown eyes catching the glow from the lamp as the sun went down and the light failed. “Quen isn’t my bodyguard. He’s my friend.”
Daniel watched Quen’s shoulders hunch, guessing that “friend” was not what Quen wanted to be, but that he liked her too much to risk ruining what he had. Daniel knew the feeling.
“I wish I could explain,” she said, watching her fingers twist about themselves, “but it’s not going to matter in a few minutes. We’re only going to take away little chunks of time so you’ll be safe. You won’t remember this at all.”
“This is not cool, Trisk—” he started.
“Don’t,” she blurted, clearly trying not to cry. “The law says you have to die to preserve the secret of our existence.” She laughed bitterly. “We make a mistake, and you die for it. But not this time.” Trisk raised her head, her breath steadying. “After this, I’m going to go to NASA.”
Daniel felt his expression go slack. “Why? Trisk, you know they’ll make you their collective assistant. You’ll hate it there.”
Her head dropped again. “Call it punishment. But at least my research will be acted on, right? And isn’t that all that’s important?” she said, voice rising. “That something I did means something? Who cares whose name is on it if it helps people,” she finished, breath catching.
“Stay here,” Daniel said, hating to see her so miserable. “We can—”
But she shook her head, taking his hands to force him to look at her. “If I stay, the memory charm will break apart again, even a demonic one. I have to go.”
He sat back, his anger tightening his shoulders. “I wouldn’t tell anyone you’re a witch.”
She started, and at the open door, Quen turned to stare at him. “We, uh, aren’t witches,” she said, and Quen cleared his throat in warning.
“Then what are you?” Daniel questioned.
Quen coughed. “He doesn’t need to know this,” he said, his voice tight in warning as he used his weight to pull the barn door closed and shut out the night. “We’re wasting time.”
“I’m sorry,” Trisk said as she stood, her smile forced. “Stay here, and whatever you do, don’t say anything. We’re going to be dealing with a very dangerous person who uses knowledge like a weapon.”