AUTHOR NOTES: I had this situation in my head and just had to start writing it down. I can't help thinking that if they knew, some of the other elves would probably take severe issue with Trent having helped Rachel save the demons and the fact that he can cure them. Especially if they learn about the Rosewood babies. Somehow, I don't think the idea of having a future crop of unbound, day-walking demons wandering about is going to go over very well with just about anyone, but especially the elves, who seem likely to feel that Trent has betrayed them. Naturally, Rachel would get tangled up in the midst of things, as usual.

This story takes place roughly a year after the end of "Ever After" and will therefore be completely AU once the next book comes out. I ship Rachel / Trent and I'm sure that will show quite clearly since they're the main characters of this fic, but it's not really a romance story.

I'm trying something a little different and writing this first person from Rachel's POV, like the books are written, although of course I can't do it half as well as Ms. Harrison does. I find it challenging to write in the first person so I thought it would be an interesting exercise. Hopefully it doesn't turn out too badly.

The cover art for this story is also my creation. Anime style, I know, but that's really all I can do, so... *shrugs*

Please review if you enjoy the story and have a minute to do so, it helps me stay inspired to keep going. Thanks!

Further notes and information may be found on the individual chapters.

DISCLAIMER: Rachel, Trent and the other Hollows characters and the Hollows world do not belong to me. They belong to Kim Harrison and possibly HarperCollins publishers and are used without permission but with great respect. This is for fun only, no money is being made off of this.

SURVIVAL

CHAPTER 1 - "Bound for Burning"

I twisted my arms inside the tight confines of the silver bands while trying to fold my hands small enough to pull free, but the charmed silver cuffs weren't any looser than the last several dozen times I'd tried that and all I got were more bruises on my already abused wrists. I gave a hard, frustrated jerk at the bindings, yanking against the much too sturdy chain that bound the cuffs to the stake behind my back. Pain lanced up my arms from the futile gesture, but I was too damn angry to care.

"Come on!" I shouted irritably at the crowd of people massed about me, menacingly close but just out of reach. The cold air reeked of cinnamon and spoiled wine, mixing with the more natural scent of the crisp, wintery pine forest around us. The wash of anger and fear rolling off the assembly was almost palpable. They wanted my blood, but they were too afraid of me to get close, even with me spelled as helpless as a damn baby and shackled to a frigging post that was jammed very securely into the earth.

"A stake? Really?!" I raged at them with biting sarcasm that helped me battle the fear snaking through my gut. My head throbbed and my nerves felt raw. Despite the winter coat I was wearing and the slanting rays of the late afternoon sunshine I felt chilled through by more than just the winter temperature. I wasn't wearing gloves and I'd lost my hat. My hands and ears were freezing. My mussed hair tumbled free about my shoulders, warming my ears and neck just a little when the wind shifted it right, but more often than not blowing annoyingly into my mouth. Unable to brush it away, I spat it out, scowling at the tightening circle of some 50 or 60 men and women of varying ages. They were all tall, they were all beautiful, and they were all so dead when I got out of this.

"I know you freaking elves are all about tradition, but really? Don't you think this is just a little over the top?" I spat, eyes scanning my surroundings urgently for any sign of a friendly face, but it was only wishful thinking. These bastards had jumped me when I was alone and even I didn't know where I was now. Jenks and Ivy probably weren't even aware that I was missing yet and by the time they were it was going to be too late.

The symbols carved into the carpet of pine needles that blanketed the forest floor about me and the disturbingly purposeful looking arrangement of kindling under and around my feet combined the lame-ass torches a bunch of my captors were holding – even though it was still daylight – was giving the pretty clear impression that these people hadn't gone to all this trouble just to have a little chat.

"Burning witches went out of vogue a long time ago, or didn't anyone tell you?" I raged on, nervousness making me unable to remain silent in the face of all those hate-filled eyes staring at me and the unpleasant but obvious implications of my current situation. Crap on toast, they couldn't really be serious about this, could they? What did they think they were going to accomplish?!

"You're not a witch, you're a demon!" one of the nearby men spat at me, tone laced with utter disgust.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Yeah, well, then that makes this even more stupid!" I shot back. "Who ever heard of burning a demon at the stake, huh? And what the hell did I ever do to you, anyway? Except maybe help save your freaking race!"

Frigging elves with their frigging drama and prejudice and stupid traditionalist crap. They wanted to burn me at the stake, and when I got out of these stupid silver manacles I was going to kick some seriously pretentious and misguided elf butt.

Speaking of... "Where's Trent?" I demanded, although I was sure he wasn't here. Call me naïve, but even though these were undeniably elves and he was supposed to be their leader and all that, I could not believe he had sanctioned this. The days of us trying to kill each other were long over but I somehow felt sure that even if Trent should decide that I needed to die for some dumb-ass reason or the other, he'd be man enough to try to do it himself, not hide behind a mob without even showing his face. "He knows that I've done nothing but help your people. He's going to be pissed when he finds out what giant idiots you're being! I helped him make that cure for you. Just ask him! Try doing a little fact checking before you whip out your stupid age-old grudges and stakes and – and crap! " I shouted, bruised wrists twisting harder in the binds behind me.

"Kalamack isn't going to save you this time, demon." The same man who had spoken before spoke up again, stepping forward into the wary bubble of space that the others were keeping around me. He was tall and handsome enough to be on magazine covers, but his face was ugly with the hate twisting his features. His short, salon-styled hair was straw-blonde, like Ellasbeth's and the west coast elves, rather than the finer platinum-gold of Trent's. I'd bet good money he was associated with the Wivyn's faction.

"But don't worry; he's not going to miss this," the man sneered, entirely too much satisfaction on his smug, pretty-boy features.

There was a split second when something like betrayal went through me, as sharp and cutting as any knife. I could never believe this was Trent's doing, but I could believe that others had forced his hand and his silence – that politics trumped all and I had lost out in the cost analysis.

There was a jostling commotion as the crowd parted for some new arrivals at this little shin-dig. The newcomers pushed through right to the front, a group of several more men with a woman following behind. The men were half-carrying, half dragging a limp figure between them. The figure was male and he was pitched unceremoniously onto the ground near my feet. The young man hit the carpet of pine-needles hard on his shoulder and rolled to land on his stomach. He wasn't wearing a coat, just dress slacks, a button-down white shirt and loafers. His white-gold hair fell about his face, reflecting the golden-orange light of the fading afternoon sun and the even ruddier glare of the nearby torches. My heart seized in recognition, and it felt like everything turned upside down.

"Trent?" I whispered, stunned. He wasn't dressed for the outdoors. His clothing was disheveled, his face bruised. An alarming amount of blood caked one side of his head and stained the neck and shoulder of his white dress shirt crimson. For a few sickening heartbeats I wasn't sure whether he was alive or dead. Then he groaned softly and struggled to get his elbows under him and I started breathing again.

Trent tried to struggle to his knees, but only managed to roll unsteadily onto his side. I could now see that his hands too were bound, shackled in front of him with a pair of charmed silver cuffs that matched my own. He raised both hands to his obviously hurting head and blinked up at me as if unable to get his eyes to completely focus. In or out of focus, he must have been able to make out enough to understand the situation I was in, judging from the fleeting play of emotions that crossed his face when his gaze caught and held on me.

"Hello, Rachel," he said with admirable calm. "I see you're on the guest list for this little party, too. I would apologize for my companions' bad manners, but I refuse to claim any kind of responsibility for the lunacy at work here." His gaze darted darkly over his shoulder towards the others at that last, the words obviously directed more at them than at me.

That dragged my attention back outward as well and I realized two things at once. First, the woman with the group that had brought Trent was Ellasbeth. Second ... she was holding Lucy on her hip. Third, I had a sudden and overwhelming desire to smash her face in. Okay, so it was more like three things. Sue me.

"Lunacy?" The pretty boy with the ugly face scoffed. "Lunacy is making a cure that allows demons to be born into this world again! That allows them to walk in the sun and undoes everything that generations of our ancestors fought and died for!" Pretty Boy seemed to have some modicum of control over the situation, or at least a certain amount of respect from the crowd. He looked an awful lot like Ellasbeth now that I saw them together. I didn't think she had any brothers, but a cousin, maybe? I didn't know and didn't really care. His words froze my blood. Crap on toast. Trent's family secret was apparently out, and the elves weren't at all pleased.

Trent's jaw tightened, his lips pressing together as he finally managed to leverage himself up to a sitting position on the ground, but he said nothing. The accusations were true, even if that result was never what Trent's father had intended when he began his biological tinkering. The tinkering that had saved my life, and Lee's life, and now the lives of around a dozen innocent infants who were on the verge of celebrating their first birthdays thanks to the Kalamack's Rosewood syndrom cure.

"Lunacy is helping this demon save the Ever After and all the other demons in it when simply doing nothing would have meant they all destroyed themselves!" the man continued to rant and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach grew. Where was this guy getting his information? How in the Turn did he know so much?!

My gaze slid back to Ellasbeth, looking pretty, composed and smug in her white designer leather coat and perfectly coifed hair, and I answered my own question. Ellasbeth. She had been at Trent's house when all the crap hit the fan with Ku'Sox. She had been in and out of his life for the past year since, supposedly looking to reconcile and share custody of their daughter Lucy. If anyone had been in a position to learn and then betray Trent's carefully guarded secrets, my money was on her. That bitch.

Trent had helped me save the demons. The situation was a little more complex than Pretty Boy made it out to be, but in the end he wasn't exactly wrong. Trent's tolerant attitude towards demons had shifted pretty far off center from that his race over the past few years. If I were honest, I knew I had played at least some role in that.

Trent had flipped when he found out what I was, what his family's cure had really done. I couldn't entirely blame him for that, I hadn't been all that thrilled myself at first either. Of course ... Trent had flipped hard enough that he'd tried to kill me, but over time, he'd apparently been able to look beyond his fear and the notions trained into him since childhood.

Over the past year or two much had changed and the elf had saved my butt, more than once. Of course, I'd arguably saved his even more times, but still. Trent was becoming a strong, capable man who judged people on their own merits and not through the lens of societal bigotry. He'd stood with me to save the demons because it was the right thing to do. He'd given me the choice about whether to save the Rosewood babies knowing what I would choose, because it was the right thing to do. For this, his own kin would condemn him. Would turn on him and call him traitor. Prejudice and politics both sucked, big time. This wasn't fair.

"Hey! Saving the Ever After wasn't just about the demons," I protested hotly. "You do realize that if it had been destroyed, it would have taken all the world's magic with it, right? Did you think of that?!"

At my feet, Trent sighed very softly, giving me the uneasy feeling I'd said something wrong.

"The witch magic, maybe. The demon magic. Not all the magic," Pretty Boy said with a dark look and I felt my stomach lurch as I took in his meaning.

Of course, I should have seen it before. The elves practiced ley line magic, just like witches and demons, but it wasn't the only power to which they had access. Losing all the ley lines would have crippled half the inderland community and thrown the world's balance of power wildly askew ... and would have left the elven minority, with their wild magic, some of the strongest inderlanders on earth. True, it was possible that earth magic may have continued to work without the lines, but earth magic by itself was no true match for the power of wild magic. I had seen both in action and I was sure of that. Most elves didn't practice wild magic anymore, having fallen into using the easier and more predictable ley line magic instead. But they could learn, and if the lines had disappeared, I was sure they would have learned in a hurry.

I felt a shiver run down my spine. This dirt bag was as bad as HAPPA. He would have happily sacrificed half the world's population to further his own agenda. I couldn't even comprehend that and red haze filled my vision. "You have no idea what kind of effect that could have had! We're not just talking about the witches here – what about the pixies, the fairies, the gargoyles and nymphs and – and everyone else who depends on magic of some form? There's no way to know what suddenly ripping away the lines would have done to them!"

The man snorted like that was a ridiculous and inconsequential matter and my blood boiled.

"She's right, Reginald," Trent agreed with me, his voice much too composed for the current situation. "The risk was too great. I know you want to think that losing the lines would have also rid us of the vampire threat, but there is no firm evidence anywhere that the power of either the vampires or the weres is tied to ley line based magic any more than ours is. Do you really think that knocking out all the witches and possibly making the vampires the largest supernatural presence on earth is a sound risk? We might have the stronger magic, but our numbers are ridiculously few compared to theirs and most of our people do not even practice the old arts anymore!" Trent argued with pragmatic passion. His tone managed to remain reasonable and collected, yet the intensity of his words grew as he spoke.

It struck me then that Trent had already had all these arguments in his own head long before we got to this point. The thought that letting the Ever After fall might just be the best thing overall for the elves had obviously occurred to him, but thankfully he'd apparently had enough sense not to go down that road. The urgency Ceri had once tried to impart to me about the importance of Trent being the one to chart the next chapter of elven history made a little more sense - at least if the alternative was people like Reggie-crap-for-brains.

"There's no evidence that it isn't tied to it either, Kalamack." The aforementioned crap for brains retorted. "We don't even know if they existed in the ancient days, before the war, before the Ever After. What if they too are byproducts of that era? We might have had the chance to be rid of all of them!"

"You're a fool, Reginald," Trent spat disdainfully, taking the words right out of my mouth - although I probably would have used a different word. "Your father would never have been so reckless. Not even yours would." Trent spared Ellasbeth a withering glance. He'd managed to get his feet under him and leveraged himself upright with at least a fraction of his usual grace. "You're blind if you can't see that the risk was too great."

Reginald faced him squarely. "It wasn't your decision to make. You should have at least allowed others to be heard!"

Trent's lip curled. "It was my decision to make and there is absolutely no reason I should have to listen to you and your ... " the elf scanned the crowd coldly " ... rabble about anything. You want to challenge my leadership, Reginald? Why don't you do it like a man rather than hiding behind these accusations and a throng of misguided lackeys?"

Reginald looked fit to pop a blood vessel and I could tell that Trent had scored a hit. I had a feeling my sneaky little cookie maker was trying to do what he did best and either talk his way out of this, or keep delaying until we could come up with some kind of plan of action. I was trying hard on the latter, but not much luck so far. The damn elves hadn't just chained me up with charmed silver, which would have been bad enough. The whole way they'd taken me down in the first place had been catching me unawares and hitting me with a watered-down version of that damn elf spell that Trent had used to down Ku'Sox last year - the one that stripped all your magic. Whoever had twisted it was good, but they didn't have Trent's skill or power, and they certainly didn't have the power that I had been able to feed into it or Al had been able to wrap around it when the three of us had worked together against Ku'Sox.

It had still done the job and hurt like a son of a bastard besides, but I was already starting to feel the first faint tingles of it beginning to wear off. It would be easier to gauge my recovery without the damned silver cutting me off from the lines and making the issue moot. My gaze shifted back to Trent where he was staring down Reggie the pompous ass. Dollars to donuts if they'd used that spell on me; they'd used it on Trent as well. Especially since I really wasn't sure how effective the charmed silver cuffs would be against wild magic use. If I assumed we'd been taken at around the same time, then maybe the curse was starting to wear off of him too. Maybe if we could stall them long enough, Trent would be able to cause enough of a distraction to help me get out of these damn cuffs and then we'd be in business. It wasn't a great plan, but it was about all I had at the moment.

In the tradition of all bullies and cowards, Reginald dealt with sound arguments he couldn't refute logically by using his fists instead and took the moral low ground of slugging someone who was bound and defenseless. Oh I was just loving this guy. Kind of like my boot was going to love burying itself in his ass. "Hey!" I shouted as Reggie sucker-punched Trent in the gut, sending the other elf back to his knees on the forest floor.

Not content with that bit of violence, Reggie kicked out at Trent, but that was his mistake because Trent was faster. He caught Reggie's foot between both bound hands and yanked, jerking the other man's legs out from under him and sending him tumbling to the ground. In an instant, Trent was on him like dust on a pixy, slugging Reggie hard in his surprised mug with both bound hands and jamming a knee sharply into his gut before the shocked and woefully underprepared man had a chance to move.

I yanked and tore at my bonds, dying to break free, to help, to join the fight. I felt so damn useless and helpless I wanted to scream. Unfortunately for Trent, we were severely outnumbered. I had no doubt he could have taken Reggie, even bound and at a disadvantage, but six or seven other elves were on him in a flash. They dragged him off and cuffed him around hard when he struggled. Either Trent hadn't yet recovered enough to access his magic, or he judged the odds not yet good enough for a serious escape attempt and didn't want to show his hand too soon. I couldn't be sure.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" I raged impotently at them, jerking my wrists until I felt blood begin to trickle down my hands. Damn it all to the Turn, I had to get out of these freaking cuffs!

One of them hit Trent with a pain spell and he went down, his back arching against the dirt, his neck all corded muscle as he convulsed, gritting his teeth against the agony.

Lucy was wailing. I hadn't noticed when she started amid the commotion, but now as things settled down her angry and tearful howling became pronouncedly attention grabbing. "No! No! Bad! You stop! No hitting! Bad! Put me down! Daddy! Daddy!" The little girl was small, petite even for her age, but she had enough attitude for two people twice her size and she did not like being ignored. I saw her twisting and struggling fiercely in Ellasbeth's grip forcing the woman have to struggle to hold onto her despite her small size.

My heart clenched. Lucy was almost two years old and precocious for her age as all elf children seemed to be. She understood enough of what was going on around her to know that her father was being hurt and to want to stop it, even if she didn't yet have the capability of understanding the reasons why. She shouldn't be here. Why in God's name would anyone bring a baby to a lynching? I knew in my gut that that was exactly what this was intended to be, in one form or another.

"Shhh! No! Lucy, no! Stop it! Be still! Lucy!" Ellasbeth first cajoled, then scolded, snapping at the little girl and shaking her none too gently when her tantrum did not abate.

"Don't!" it was Trent's voice from the ground, his gaze fixed on his daughter and the woman who was unfortunately her mother. His chest was heaving from the after effects of the curse, but his voice was low and lethal. Then his gaze shifted to Lucy and his expression completely changed. "Lucy, it's all right. Daddy's all right, see?" he coaxed soothingly, struggling to push up onto his elbow again and trying to catch her eyes. "Shh, Lucy, it's okay." He murmured soft elven words that I didn't understand, but Lucy seemed to and they finally calmed her. She was a daddy's girl, and no mistake.

It wasn't okay. None of this was remotely okay. This whole situation was so unbelievably fucked up it was eons and light years past okay.

"For God's sake, Ellasbeth, get her out of here," Trent whispered quietly, his angry green eyes both demanding and pleading as he struggled back up to his knees.

Anger made my head pound while fear chilled my heart like ice. Lucy shouldn't be here. Trent shouldn't be here either. The fact that they were both here anyway made me afraid for more than just their sake. Where were Quen and Ray? Quen would have protected Trent and Lucy, or at least he would have tried to. If he'd been there. If he'd known. Trent had been intentionally pulling away from his bodyguard's sphere of control for some time now. I hoped that his enemies had simply used that against him, perhaps using Ellasbeth to find out his whereabouts or even to lead him into the trap. It would have been easy for her to take Lucy. She was the girl's mother, after all.

I didn't want to think about the alternatives. I didn't want to think that anything could have happened to Quen, or that they might have separated him from his Sa'han by forcing on the older elf the unthinkable situation of having to choose between protecting Trent or protecting Ray. I knew which side Quen would come down on, and I knew that having had to make that choice would all but kill him. For everyone's sake, I hoped that Quen was just as oblivious of what had happened as Ivy and Jenks were. Although ... I certainly wouldn't mind if any of them had figured it out about now. Hell, I'd be more than happy to see Al right at the moment, although being as it was still daylight that wasn't going to happen. Nope, Trent and I were apparently on our own here. Peachy.

"It's right for her to be here. She is our future," Reginald said coldly. "The future you claim to give to us with one hand while damning us to repeat the past with the other. You cured the demons, Kalamack. None of your pretty lies can save you from that fact. You are a traitor to our people!"

"It was his dad who came up with the damn cure you moss wipe!" I interjected hotly, having had about all of this idiot that I could take. "Get your facts straight!"

Reggie's cold, hard eyes fixed on me, gorgeous and unforgiving. "Yes, and he gave us two day walking demons as a result, one of them unfortunately being you. But Trenton here, Trenton has given us more than a dozen. He didn't have to continue his father's work. He should have shut it down and destroyed every last scrap of its very memory the instant he realized what you were. But he didn't."

"Trent didn't give those babies the cure! Ku'sox did!" I argued hotly, but I already knew it was a losing battle and that at least some of this mess was probably my fault. "He stole it and gave it to them!" And Trent had helped him make it permanent to save Lucy, then fixed the fatal flaw he'd intentionally worked into the cure so that they would in fact survive, at least partially because of me ... but I didn't think mentioning any of that would be a particularly good idea. The problem was, they already seemed to know most of it anyway.

"Which he couldn't have done if Kalamack had destroyed it like he should have," Reggie returned, sounding calmer and more confident now, which was not a good sign. "At the very least, he should have destroyed the abominations after the demon was gone, but no he continued to treat them. He hid them and their families and won't even tell us where they are!"

My gaze shot back to Trent, my chest tightening within me. Trent's world was being pulled down around him but he was still protecting the babies. The babies he'd flat out told me it would be much easier to kill than keep alive. I was proud of him, and that just made this whole mess a dozen times more ugly.

"They are innocent!" I growled, my voice hoarse with emotion I hadn't realized was there until it made my words rough and my eyes sting with fury. I would die before I saw any more dead, broken little infants again. Never again. "If you could really just kill a bunch of innocent babies in cold blood, then you're the monster here, all of you!"

"Enough. This is pointless. The decision has already been made and this arguing serves no purpose. It will be dark soon, we should waste no more time," an older man standing on Reggie's right said with a hint of impatience.

Reggie nodded once, obviously not appreciating the interference, but seemingly not in a position to disagree either. He jerked his head towards Trent and several men stepped forward. Appropriately, if depressingly cautious, they hit Trent with another pain charm before they were within reach, then dragged the convulsing man to his feet and slammed him up against the stake so that his back was to mine.

The stake was about three-quarters as thick around as a wooden telephone pole. The edges of Trent's shoulders pressed up against mine as the clank of metal told me he was being re-chained to it in much the same manner as myself. I could feel Trent shaking and struggling to hold his feet through the ending throws of the charm. Damn it, this wasn't good! This was SO not good!

"Daddy?" Lucy's uncertain, childish voice was heartbreaking in the almost oppressive stillness. "Mommy, what are Daddy and Aunt Rachel doing?"

"For the love of the Goddess, Ellasbeth, get her out of here!" Trent's low, harsh voice was raw from something other than the pain he'd been dealing with. I could practically feel his anger and heartbreak ... and fear. Crap on toast. Beneath his controlled facade, Trent was afraid we might not get out of this and that scared me more than I wanted to admit.

TBC...