“You want us to help you catch him?”

“Certainly not,” Klea said, shaking her head. “Untrained children like you? You’d only get yourselves killed. And, no offense, but you’re kind of…small.”

Laurel opened her mouth to retort, but David squeezed her leg sharply and she bit her tongue.

Klea was pulling another piece of paper out of her bag; this time, a map of Crescent City. “I’d like to place some guards around your house—yours, too, David—just in case—”

“I don’t need guards,” Laurel said, thinking of the sentries stationed near her house.

Klea startled. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t need guards,” Laurel repeated. “I don’t want them.”

“Now really, Laurel. It’s for your own protection. I’m sure your parents would agree. I could speak with them, if you like—”

“No!” Laurel bit her lip when two of the men working a few yards away paused and looked over at her. She’d have to tell the truth now. “They don’t know about him,” she admitted. “I never told them anything about Barnes at all. I got back before they realized I was gone.”

Klea grinned openly. “Really? Resourceful little thing, aren’t you?” Laurel managed not to throw Klea a dirty look but only barely. “But seriously, Laurel. There’s been a lot of troll activity around Crescent City lately. Way more than I’m comfortable with. Luckily,” she continued, a touch of amusement in her voice, “we’re dealing with the kind of being who is easily…stopped.” She rubbed at her temples briefly. “Not like some of the other creatures I’ve had the singular experience of hunting down.”

“Other creatures?” David asked.

Klea stopped rubbing her head and looked at David with a pointed expression. “Oh, David, the things I have seen. There’s more out there than anyone dares to believe possible.”

David’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“But I’m afraid we don’t have to time to discuss that tonight,” she said, shutting down his questions. She looked at Laurel. “I’d like you to reconsider,” she said seriously. “Because you managed to escape from your last encounter unscathed, I think you underestimate these creatures. But they are fast, cunning, and amazingly strong. We have a hard enough time keeping them in line and we’re trained professionals.”

“Why do you do it then?” Laurel asked.

“What do you mean, why? Because they’re trolls! I hunt them to protect people, like I protected you tonight.” She hesitated, then continued. “Some time ago, I lost everything…everything…to inhuman monsters like these. I have made it my life’s work to end the suffering they cause.” She stopped talking for a second, then focused back on Laurel. “A big dream, I know, but if no one tries, it will never happen. Please help us by letting us help you.”

“I don’t need bodyguards or whatever it is you’re offering,” Laurel insisted. She knew she sounded petulant, but there was nothing else she could say. Faerie sentries were one thing, but this? This stranger with her army camp and big guns—Laurel didn’t need them stumbling upon her real guardians. The sooner she and David could get out of there, the better.

Klea pursed her lips. “Okay,” she said softly, “if that’s the way you feel. But if you change your mind, you have my card.” She looked back and forth between David and Laurel. “It’s only fair to tell you that I’m still going to keep my eye on you two. I don’t want anything to happen. You seem like good kids.” She paused, her finger near her chin, thinking for a few seconds. “Before you go,” she said slowly, “I have something for you. And I hope you’ll understand my reasons for giving them to you, as well as my request that you keep them a secret. Especially from your parents.”

Laurel didn’t like the sound of that.

Klea gestured to one of the passing men, and he brought her a large box. She sifted through it for a few seconds before pulling out two handguns in black canvas holsters. “I don’t anticipate your needing these,” she said, holding one out to each of them. “But if you won’t consent to guards, then this is the best I can do. I prefer to be overly cautious rather than…well, dead.”

Laurel looked down at the gun Klea had extended toward her, grip-first. In her peripheral vision she saw David take his without hesitance and murmur, “Sweet!” but her eyes stayed locked on the gun. Very slowly, she reached out her hand and touched the cool metal. It didn’t look quite like the gun she’d pointed at Barnes last year, but when she wrapped her fingers around the grip, it felt the same. Visions of Barnes flashed through her head, all tinted the scarlet of blood—David’s blood on her arm, the blood that blossomed on Barnes’s shoulder when she shot him, and worse, the look on Tamani’s face when he’d been shot, twice, by a gun not unlike this one.

She jerked her hand back as if she’d been burned. “I don’t want it,” she said quietly.

“And that does you credit,” Klea said calmly. “But I still think—”

“I said I don’t want it,” Laurel repeated.

Klea pursed her lips. “Really, Laurel—”

“I’ll take it for now,” David said, his hand reaching out for the second gun. “We’ll talk about it later.”