"So what did Trent do when you found the body?" Ivy asked, mouse clicking as she checked out her chat rooms. "Any guilt?"

"Ah, no," I said, pushing my uncomfortable feelings aside even as I took a half pound of lean hamburger out of the freezer and set it clunking into the sink. "And the surprise he let slip wasn't that I found a body but that it was Dan's body. That's why I don't like the idea that he put it there to cover himself. He knows more than he's saying, though." I gazed out the window at the sunlit garden and the glimmers of pixy wings as Jenks's kids fought off a migrating hummingbird from the last of the lobelias. It had to be migrating. Jenks would have killed it before letting competition get a foothold in his garden.

As the children shouted and called, working together to drive the hapless bird away, my thoughts returned to the worry Trent had let show when I found that ley line running through his office. He had been more upset about me finding that line than finding Dan's body.

The ley line. That's where the real question lurked. My fingers tingled as I turned, wiping the frost from the hamburger off on a towel instead of my suit dress. I glanced at the window, wondering if I would draw more attention by shutting it or if I should press my luck and hope Jenks's kids were too busy to eavesdrop. Ivy pulled back from her computer screen as she saw my sudden secrecy. Jenks had a big mouth, and I didn't want him knowing of my suspicions of Trent's possible ancestry. He would blab it around, and Trent would hire a plane to "accidentally" drop Agent Orange on the entire block to stop the rumors.

Splitting the difference, I shut the curtains and stood by the window where I could see the shadow of pixy wings should any flit close enough to hear. "Trent has a ley line in his office," I said, my voice hushed.

Ivy stared at me in the blue-tinted sun. "No kidding? What are the chances of that?"

She didn't get it. "So that means he must use them," I prompted.

"And…" Her eyebrows rose in question.

"So who can use ley lines?" I shot back.

Her jaw dropped in sudden understanding. "He's human or a witch," she breathed. She got to her feet in a movement so quick, it set me on edge. Coming to the sink, she pushed the curtain aside and shut the window with a thump. "Does Trent know you saw it?" she asked, her eyes black in the dimmer light.

"Oh, I'd say he does." I went to get another cookie to subtly put some space between us. "Seeing as I had to use the line to find the body."

Her lips pressed together and her lanky stance went tight. "You put your head on the block again. You, me, Jenks, and his entire family. Trent will do anything to keep this quiet."

"If he was that worried about it, he wouldn't have risked putting his office on the line," I protested, hoping I was right. "Anyone looking would find it. He could still be Inderlander or human. We're safe, especially if I don't say anything about the ley line."

"Jenks might figure it out," she insisted. "You know how he'll blab it. He'd love the prestige of finding out what Trent is."

I snatched a cookie. "What am I supposed to do? If I tell him to keep his mouth shut about the line, he'll only try to figure out why."

Her fingers drummed on the counter as I ate the short-bread and cream. In an unnerving display of strength, she used one hand to lever herself up to sit atop the cabinets. Her face had come alive, her thin eyebrows creased with the chance to solve the long-running mystery. "So what do you think he is? Human or witch?"

Returning to the sink, I ran hot water over the frozen meat. "Neither." It was a flat admission. Ivy remained silent, and I turned the water off. "He's neither, Ivy. I would stake my life that he isn't a witch, and Jenks swears he's more than human."

Is this why I stayed? I wondered, seeing her eyes alight and her mind working with mine. Her logic, and my intuition. In spite of the problems, we worked well together. We always had.

Ivy shook her head, her features blurred in the blue-curtained dusk, but I could feel her tension rising. "It's the only choices we have. You eliminate everything, and whatever remains, no matter how improbable, is the answer."

It didn't surprise me she was quoting Sherlock Holmes. The anal logic and brusque nature of the fictional detective fit right in with Ivy's personality. "Well, if you want to entertain the improbable," I muttered, "you can lump demons in with the possibilities."

"Demons?" Ivy's tapping fingers stilled.

I shook my head in bother. "Trent's not a demon. I only mentioned it because demons are from the ever-after and so can manipulate ley lines, too."

"I'd forgotten that," she breathed, the soft sound sending a shiver down my spine, but she was intent on her thoughts and had no idea how creepy she was getting. "That you're related, I mean. Witches and demons." An affronted snort slipped past me, and she shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. Didn't know it was a sore spot."

"It isn't," I said tightly, though it was. There had been a flurry of controversy about a decade ago when a nosy human in the field of Inderland genealogy got hold of the few genetic maps that had survived the Turn, theorizing that because witches could manipulate ley lines, we had originated in the ever-after along with demons. Witches aren't related to demons. But much to our embarrassment, science forced us to admit aloud that we had evolved right along next to them in the ever-after.

Finding funding with that unsavory tidbit, the woman then went beyond her original theory, using the rates of RNA mutation to properly place the time of our en masse migration to this side of the ley lines about five thousand years ago. Witch mythology claimed that a demon uprising had prompted the move, leaving the elves to foolishly wage a losing battle, since they wouldn't leave their beloved fields and woods to be raped of their natural resources and polluted. It sounded like a viable theory, and the elves had lost all their history by the time they gave up and followed suit a measly two thousand years ago.

That humans had developed skill in ley line magic about that time was blamed on the elves' practice of using their magic to hybridize with humanity to stave off the extinction the demons started and the Turn finished. My thoughts turned to Nick, and I slumped. It was just as well witches were so far from humanity that even magic couldn't bridge the gap. Who knew what an uninformed witch/human hybrid skilled in ley lines might do? That the elves had brought humanity into the ley-line-using family was bad enough. The elves' dexterity with line magic had slipped into the human genome as if it belonged. It was enough to make you wonder.

Elves? I thought, going cold. It had been staring me right in the face. "Oh—my—God," I whispered.

Ivy looked up, her swinging legs stilling as she took in my expression.

"He's an elf," I whispered, the thrill of discovery bubbling up making my pulse race. "They didn't die out in the Turn. He's an elf. Trent is a freaking elf!"

"Whoa, wait a minute," Ivy warned. "They're gone. If any were alive, Jenks would know. He'd be able to smell it."

I shook my head, pacing to the hallway to look for winged eavesdroppers. "Not if the elves went underground for a pixy/fairy generation. The Turn pretty much did them in, and it wouldn't be hard to hide what survived until the last pixy who knew what they smelled like died. They only live about twenty years or so, pixies I mean." My words tumbled over themselves as I rushed to get it out. "And you saw how Trent doesn't like them or fairies. It's almost a phobia. It fits! I can't believe it! We figured it out!"

"Rachel," Ivy cajoled as she shifted atop the counter. "Don't be stupid. He's not an elf."

Arms crossed, I pressed my lips together in frustration. "He sleeps at noon and midnight," I said, "and he's most active at dawn and dusk, just like elves were. He possesses nearly vamplike reflexes. He likes his solitude but is damn good at manipulating people. My God, Ivy, the man tried to ride me down on horseback like prey under the full moon!" I tossed my arms as I gestured. "You've seen his gardens and that artificial forest of his. He's an elf! And so are Quen and Jonathan."