"Faefever" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moning Karen Marie)

Chapter 5

The Viper isn’t the most expensive or fastest car on the market, but it delivers on everything it promises. It’s got great lines, a wicked attitude, and hits sixty in under four seconds. If I ever get home again, I won’t know what to do with my Toyota. I’ll need to pull a Fred Flintstone, and poke my feet through the bottom.

The last Viper that Barrons let me drive, and the one I thought I was getting this time, was gone. In its place was one of the new ones, hot off the assembly line, sleek, low, and muscley: the SRT-10 with 90 additional snorting horses for a total of 600 feisty stallions, and 560 ft-lb of torque.

It was black on black with heavily tinted windows, and looked like some kind of crouching metal beast, waiting—no, begging—to be taken and tested to its limits. I was momentarily awed to be holding its reins in my hands.

I stood for a moment, absorbing Barrons’ incredible car collection, listening hard, alert for any sounds or vibrations in the floor. There was nothing. Whatever creature dwelled beneath the garage either slumbered or lay sated. I envisioned a hulking darkness surrounded by a mound of cleanly picked bones, and shook my head to dispel the image.

I slid into the black leather interior of the two-seater, cranked it, listened to the engine, smiled, shifted into first, and pulled out of the garage. A complaint about the Viper (by people who would be better off sticking to 4-cylinder automatics and living vicariously through reality TV shows) is that the passenger compartment gets too hot because of the exhaust, and that it’s excessively noisy when you open it up on the road.

I revved the engine. The throaty growl was magnified by the close quarters of the alley, and I laughed out loud. That’s what the Viper’s all about, muscle and machismo, and when you’ve got it in spades, you strut it.

Down to my right, the huge Shade puffed up, nearly eclipsing the building behind it. I muttered something that would make my mother cringe, but kept my hands on the steering wheel and gearshift. There would be no more flipping of the bird at monsters of unknown parameters. I’d heard of road rage cases resulting in murder over less, and I saw no point in antagonizing an already antagonistic Shade that was far more aware of me than I would have liked.

Driving a hot car is a lot like sex to me, or a lot like I keep thinking sex should be: a total body experience, overwhelming to all the senses, taking you places you’ve never been, packing a punch that leaves you breathless and touches your soul. The Viper was way more satisfying than my last boyfriend.

I cranked up the music and barreled into the night. I didn’t think about what had happened today. I’d had all afternoon to think about it and had made my decisions. The time for thinking was over. It was time for action.

Twenty minutes from the abbey, in the middle of what we call B.F.E. back home, surrounded by too many sheep and too few fences for my comfort in such an expensive car, I pulled over to the side of the dark, narrow, two-lane road, looked around to make sure there was grass and foliage growing, reassuring myself it was a Shade-free zone, left the headlamps blazing anyway, and stepped out.

The thing on my tongue had been bothering me since V’lane had put it there. I didn’t know how long I was going to be able to stand it. But at the moment, I was glad I had it.

Need me, open your mouth, and I will be there, he’d said. I’d never have believed I’d be using it less than twenty-four hours later, but there was something I had to do tonight, and I needed backup. Serious backup. I needed something that would rock Rowena’s world, and Barrons just didn’t fit the bill the way a Seelie prince did.

I tried to decide what might constitute needing him, in a way that would release whatever was piercing my tongue. Merely thinking about him? Couldn’t be that. I’d been half thinking about him all day. He’d been simmering on the back burner of my mind’s stove ever since he’d put his pot there, as he’d known he would. Maybe, in time, I’d grow inured to the intruder. I doubted it.

“V’lane, I need you,” I told the night, and darned if the thing in my mouth didn’t move.

I gagged. The thing uncoiled and slammed against the back of my teeth. I spit it out convulsively. Something soft and dark exploded from my mouth, hit the air, and was gone.

“Sidhe-seer.”

I spun. V’lane was behind me. I opened my mouth and shut it again, pining for the good old days of cell phones. Perhaps, as experts warned, radiation really would fry my brain after decades of repeated use, but I was feeling fried already from using Fae methods of communication a single time.

I didn’t bother reaching for my spear. Its cold weight in my shoulder holster was gone. He’d somehow lifted it from me the moment he’d appeared. If I’d known how quickly he would show up, I’d have held on to it, to see if that stopped him. I made a mental note to try it next time.

“Fae,” I returned the salutation, if it could be called that, dryly. How had I ended up in a world with such strange methods of address? Of all the men I’d met in Dublin, only Christian called me Mac. “Give me my spear back.” I knew he wouldn’t but it didn’t stop me from asking.

“I do not come to you armed with lethal human weapons.” V’lane was in full Fae mode: glittering a dozen shades of alien, his iridescent eyes dispassionate with a thousand-yard stare, dripping heart-stoppingly incredible sex. Literally.

“You are a lethal human weapon.”

His gaze said There is that, and so it should be. “Why have you called me?” He looked impatient, as if I’d interrupted him in the middle of something important.

“How badly do you want the Book for your queen?”

“If you have found it and think to hold out on me. ”

I shook my head. “Not holding out. But everyone wants my help finding it, and I’m not sure who’s the strongest, or who will help me the most. There are things I want, too.”

“You question my power?” His eyes blazed the silver of sharp knives, and I had a sudden, strange vision—the tatters of a genetic memory? — of a Fae flaying a human’s skin from his body with a glance. If they catch you, bow your head before them, we’d taught our children, and never look into their eyes. Not because we’d been afraid they might be mesmerized—a Fae didn’t need to make eye contact to do that—but because if our children were going to die horribly, we didn’t want them to see their fate glinting in those sharp, inhuman eyes.

“Why did you leave when Barrons showed up?” I asked.

“I despise him.”

“Why?”

“It is not your concern. Are you such a fool that you think to summon me to interrogate me?”

I shivered in my light sweater and jacket. The temperature had just dropped sharply. Fae royalty are so powerful that their pleasure or displeasure affects the weather, if they allow it. I’d recently learned that the Unseelie Hunters, with their great leathery wings, forked tongues, and fiery eyes, command this power, too. “I called you because I need your help. I’m just wondering if you can do what I need you to do.”

“I will keep you alive. And I will not let you. what is it you disliked so greatly when you couldn’t summon me before? Ah, you said you suffered horribly. I will not permit that.”

“That’s not enough. I need you to keep everyone alive tonight, and not let anyone suffer horribly. And I need to know you won’t return here one day and hurt them in the future.” Sidhe-seers had been hiding from the Fae for thousands of years, and I was about to take one of the most powerful straight into their hidden lair. Would I be branded traitor? Cast out? Oh, duh, I already was. Those who should have been my allies in this battle were now gunning for me, thanks to Rowena. I wouldn’t have to do this if she hadn’t pushed me so far.

His alien eyes narrowed and he glanced around. Then he laughed.

I caught myself pulling my sweater up, smiling vapidly. My breasts ached and my nipples throbbed. “Turn it off,” I growled. “We have a deal, remember? You said you would turn it off around me all the time.”

He shimmered and was once again the man I’d seen the night before, in jeans, boots, and biker jacket. “I forgot.” There was neither truth nor contrition in his words. “You are going to the abbey.”

“Crimeny,” I exploded, “does everyone know everything but me?” I consoled myself with the thought that at least now I didn’t have to feel bad about betraying their location to V’lane. He already knew it.

“It would seem so. You are young. Your minuscule time is a yawn in my life.” He paused then added, “And Barrons’.”

“What do you know about Barrons?” I demanded.

“That you would be far wiser to depend on me, MacKayla.” He moved toward me and I stepped back. Even in his muted, humanlike form, he was pure sex. He glided past me, stopped at the Viper, and traced his hand over the sleek metallic curve of the hood. V’lane standing next to a black-on-black Viper was a thing to see.

“I want you to go to the abbey with me,” I told him. “As backup. I want you to be my protection. You will not harm any of the sidhe-seers there.”

“You think to give me orders?” The temperature plunged again, and snow dusted my shoulders.

I reconsidered. It wouldn’t kill me to phrase it nicely. Mom always said you draw more flies with honey than vinegar.

“Will you promise me that you won’t hurt any of the sidheseers?” Grimacing mentally, I added, “Please?”

He smiled, and a nearby tree pushed out velvety-looking, fragrant white blossoms that drenched the night air with pungent spices. They overgrew rapidly, plummeted to the ground in a lush fall of alabaster petals, and swiftly decomposed. Life to death in a matter of seconds. Was that how he saw me? “I will grant you this. I like it when you say ‘please.’ You will say it again.”

“No. Once was enough.”

“What will you do for me in exchange?”

“I’m doing it. Helping you find the Book.”

“Not enough. You wish to command a Fae Prince as a lapdog? It costs, MacKayla. You will let me fuck you.”

I jerked, and for a moment I was so angry I couldn’t speak. It didn’t help that his words had caused a slick, erotic thrill to flutter in my belly. Had he amped himself up again? Shot some kind of Fae sex-dart at me when he’d said it? “No. Not even if Hell freezes over will I offer you sex with me in exchange for anything. Got it? Some things are non-negotiable and that’s one of them.”

“It is merely coitus, a physical act, the same as eating or voiding waste. Why attach such importance to it?”

“Maybe for a Fae it’s merely a physical act, and maybe for some people, too, but not me.”

“Because sex has been so stupendous in your brief life? Because you have had lovers that have made your body burn, and set your soul on fire?” he mocked.

I notched my chin higher. “Maybe I haven’t felt that, exactly, yet, but I will one day.”

“I will give it to you now. Ecstasy that you would die for, but I will not permit it. I will stop before that happens.”

His words chilled me: he was just another vampire, promising to stop before he drained the last drops of blood that kept my heart beating. “Forget it, V’lane. I’m sorry I summoned you. I’ll take care of things myself. I don’t need you or anybody.” I opened the car door.

He slammed it so quickly that I nearly lost a finger. I was startled by his sudden violence. He crushed me back against the Viper, and touched my face. His eyes were razor sharp, hostile; his fingers feather-light. “Who bruised you?”

“I had a fight with some sidhe-seers. Quit crowding me.”

He traced a finger over my cheekbone, and the ache vanished. He dropped his hand to my rib cage and pain no longer spiked through me with each breath. When he slid his palm across my thigh, I felt the hemorrhaged blood drain from the contusion. He pressed his legs to mine and my shins were no longer bruised. My flesh burned in the wake of his touch.

He dropped his head forward, lips close to mine. “Offer me something in exchange for what you ask of me, MacKayla. I am a prince and we have our pride.” Though his touch was soft, I felt the rigidity in his body, and knew I’d pushed him as far as he would go.

In the Deep South, we understand pride. We lost everything once, but by God, we held on to our pride. We heaped fuel onto the fire of it, stoked it as high as a crematorium. And we immolate ourselves on it sometimes. “I know how the Book is moving around. I haven’t told anyone.” The length of Vlane’s body against mine was unhinging doors in my mind, showing me rooms I was better off not knowing existed.

His lips brushed my cheek and I shivered. “Barrons doesn’t know?”

I shook my head, turned it away. His lips moved to my ear. “No. But I’ll tell you.”

“And you won’t tell Barrons? It will be our secret?”

“No. I mean yes. In that order.” I hate it when people pile questions on top of each other. His mouth was fire on my skin.

“Say it.”

“I won’t tell Barrons and it will be our secret.” No loss there; I hadn’t planned to tell him, anyway.

V’lane smiled. “We have a deal. Tell me.”

“After you help me.”

“Now, MacKayla, or you go in alone. If I am to accompany a Null inside sidhe-seer walls, I require payment in advance.” There was no room for negotiation in his voice.

I hated parting with any of my aces in the hole, but if I had to give V’lane a piece of information that I’d rather not give him, in order to keep Rowena from going after my back every time it was turned, so be it. I couldn’t guard against all the dangers in the city. The Fae were bad enough, but at least I could see them coming. Rowena’s minions were perfectly normal-looking humans who could get too close before I even knew they were a danger. While my instincts to lash out at a Fae were strong, my instincts to strike at a human weren’t, and I didn’t want them to get better. Humans weren’t my enemy. I needed to send Rowena and her sidhe-seers a great, big “Back Off” message, and V’lane was the perfect courier.

Still, I didn’t have to tell him everything. I pushed him away and slid out from between him and the Viper. He watched my retreat with a mocking smile. I felt better with a dozen paces between us, and began to recount select portions of what I’d seen, lying in the sour-smelling puddle. I told him that it was moving from person to person, making them commit crimes.

But I didn’t tell him the three faces the Book had presented, or the severity of the crimes, or that it was killing the carrier before it moved on. I let him believe it was passing itself off from one live human to the next. That way if he decided to try to track it, too, I’d have an edge. I needed all the edges I could get. I knew V’lane didn’t really consider humans viable life forms, and I had no more reason to trust him than I did Barrons. V’lane might be Seelie, and Barrons might keep saving my life, but I had far too many unanswered questions about them both. My sister had trusted her boyfriend right up to the end. Had she made excuses for the Lord Master, the way I’d been making them for Barrons? So what if he never answers any of my questions? He’s told me more about what I am than anyone else. So what if he kills ruthlessly? He only does it to keep me safe. I could string together half a dozen at a moment’s notice. V’lane, too: So he’s a death-by-sex Fae; he’s never really harmed me. So what if he gets off on making me strip in public places? He saved me from the Shades.

I’m a bartender. I like recipes. They’re concretes. Was the drink recipe for seduction one shot charm and two shots self-deception, shaken, not stirred?

“You remained conscious the entire time?”

I nodded.

“Still you cannot approach it?”

I shook my head.

“How do you plan to find it again?”

“I have no idea,” I lied. “Dublin has over a million people in it, and the crime rate has been skyrocketing. Assuming it stays around the city, which I’m not even sure we can assume” (this was a lie; I don’t know why I was so sure of it, but I believed the Book had no intention of leaving Dublin’s chaotic streets at the moment, nor at any time in the near future) “we’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”

He studied me a moment, then said, “Very well. You have upheld your end of the bargain. I will keep mine.”

We got in the car and headed for the abbey.

Arlington Abbey was constructed on consecrated ground in the seventh century, when a church originally built by Saint Patrick in A.D. 441 had burned down. The church, interestingly, had been built to replace a crumbling stone circle some claimed had, long ago, been sacred to an ancient pagan sisterhood. The stone circle had allegedly been predated by a shian, or fairy mound, that had concealed within it an entrance to the Otherworld.

The abbey was plundered in 913, rebuilt in 1022, burned in 1123, rebuilt in 1218, burned in 1393, and rebuilt in 1414. It was expanded and fortified each time.

It was added onto in the sixteenth century, and again extensively in the seventeenth, sponsored by an anonymous, wealthy donor who completed the rectangle of stone buildings, enclosing the inner courtyard, and added housing—much to the astonishment of the locals—for up to a thousand residents.

This same unknown donor bought the land around the abbey, and turned the enclave into the self-sustaining operation it is today. The abbey boasts its own dairy, orchards, cattle, sheep, and extensive gardens, the highlight of which is an elaborate glass-domed hothouse rumored to house some of the world’s rarest flowers and most unusual herbs.

And that was all I’d been able to find out about the place in the twenty minutes I had to surf the Internet before leaving for the destination Barrons had given me.

Today, Arlington Abbey was owned by a subcorporation of a much larger corporation that was part of the vast holdings of an even larger corporation. Nobody knew anything about its modern-day operations. Oddly, no one seemed to find that odd. I found it spectacularly odd that a country that took such loving care of its abbeys, castles, standing stones, and countless other monuments asked no questions about the most extraordinarily well preserved abbey within its boundaries. But they didn’t, and there it sat, in the middle of nearly a thousand acres, silent and mysterious and private, and nobody bothered it.

I wondered what tremendous importance this site had for sidhe-seers that they’d doggedly protected it, even under guise of Christianity, and rebuilt it each time it had been destroyed, fortifying it ever stronger until now it loomed, a forbidding fortress over a still, dark lake.

In the passenger seat, V’lane flinched and seemed to flicker.

I glanced at him.

“We will leave the car here,” he said.

“Why?”

“Those at the abbey are. bothersome. with their attempts to defy my race.”

Translation: The abbey was warded. “Can you get past their wards?”

“They cannot prevent my entry. We sift place. They cannot ward against that.”

Okay, that was disturbing, but I’d come back to it. First things first. “Barrons said you can sift time, too.” Actually, he’d said the Fae used to be able to, but couldn’t anymore. “That you can go back into the past.” Where Alina was still alive. Where I could save my sister, and this terrible future could be prevented, and we could resume our blissfully ignorant lives, unaware of what we were, happy with our family back in Ashford, Georgia, and we’d never leave. We’d get married, have babies, and die in the Deep South at a ripe old age. “Is that true? Can you go back in time?”

“At one time certain ones among us could. Even then, we were limited, but for the queen. We no longer possess that ability. We are as trapped in the present as humans.”

“Why? What happened?”

He flinched again. “Stop the car, MacKayla. I do not enjoy this. Their wards are many.”

I pulled over, and killed the engine. When we got out, I looked at him across the roof of the car. “So, wards are uncomfortable to you, but that’s all? They don’t actually keep you out?” Could he enter the bookstore anytime he wanted? Were Barrons’ wards keeping me safe from any of the Fae?

“That is correct.”

“But I thought you couldn’t get into the bookstore. Were you just pretending the night the Shades got in?”

“We have been discussing sidhe-seer wards. The magic your people know and the magic Barrons knows are not the same.” His gaze glinted like sharp steel at the mention of my employer. “Come. Give me your hand so I may sift you in. And mind your intent. If you Null me inside those walls, you will regret it. Again, MacKayla, see the trust I grant you? I permit you to take me inside your sidhe-seer world, where I am feared and hated, and I go at your mercy. There is no other among my kind who would consider it.”

“No Nulling. I promise.” Barrons had yet another edge over the rest of us. Why didn’t that surprise me? Was that how he’d managed to conceal the Unseelie mirror from me? With deeper, darker magic than sidhe-seers knew? I couldn’t get too bent out of shape over it, however, because it meant I really was safe in the bookstore. How complex I was becoming: grateful for power wherever it could be found, provided it worked for me. “Are we clear on what I’m going to do, and what you’re not going to do?”

“As clear as your transparent desires, sidhe-seer.”

Rolling my eyes, I skirted the car and took his hand.

At home in Ashford, I have a great group of friends.

I don’t have a single one in Dublin.

The one place I thought I might make friends was at the abbey, among my own kind. Now, thanks to Rowena, that opportunity was closed to me. She’d been messing up my life since the first night I’d arrived in Ireland, when I’d nearly betrayed myself in a pub to the first Fae I’d ever seen and, instead of taking me in and teaching me what I was, she’d told me to go die somewhere else.

Then she’d stood passively by while V’lane had nearly raped me in a museum.

Then she’d sent her sidhe-seers to spy on me (like I wasn’t one, too!) and finally, she’d added insult to injury—sending them to attack me and take my weapon, forcing me to harm one of my own. Not once had Rowena welcomed me. Not once had she shown me anything but disdain and distrust—for no good reason!

These women were never going to forgive me for killing one of them. I knew that, and I wasn’t here to ask them to. It’s not the hand you’re dealt that matters. It’s how you play the cards.

I was here to set the record straight.

Rowena had made a statement this afternoon. By sending her sidhe-seers after me in force, with orders to subdue me and steal my weapon, she’d said: You are not one of us and the only way you can become one of us is complete subjugation to my will. Give me your weapon, obey me in all things, and I’ll consider letting you into the fold.

I was here to make my own statement back: Screw you, old woman. To drive my point home I’d brought as my protector a Fae Prince capable of destroying them all (not that I would ever let him). If she was a wise woman, she wouldn’t mess with me again, and she’d call off her attack dogs. I already had enough people and monsters messing with me.

Darn it all, I’d wanted friends and I’d wanted them among my own kind!

I’d wanted girls like Dani, only older, to confide in, to talk to, to share secrets of our heritage with. I’d wanted to belong here. I’d wanted to learn about the O’Connors, the bloodline I was supposedly descended from, and the last living member of.

“Take me in,” I told V’lane, bracing myself to be “sifted.”

I asked V’lane why the Fae call it sifting, and he said it was the only human word that encapsulated the basics of what they do. The Fae sift the limitless dimensions, like grains of sand through their fingers, letting a little spill here, a little spill there, sorting them until they have hold of the ones they want. When they have chosen, things change.

I asked if that meant he chose the “grain” of place where he wanted to be, and moved there by the power of thought. He didn’t get the idea of moving there. According to him, neither we, nor the dimensions moved. We simply. changed. And there it was again, the two prevalent Fae concepts: stasis or change.

Sifting felt like dying. I simply stopped existing completely, then was there again. It was painless, but deeply disturbing. One moment I was outside, standing next to the Viper, in near darkness; the next, my night-enlarged pupils gorged on a blaze of lights, momentarily blinding me, and when I could see again, I was inside the brilliantly lit walls of Arlington Abbey.

Women were screaming. Many and loudly. It was deafening.

For a moment, I was afraid they were under attack. Then I understood: I was the attack. I was hearing the sound of hundreds of sidhe-seers sensing an immensely powerful Fae inside their warded walls. I’d forgotten about that tiny detail; of course they would sense V’lane, and they’d raise the hue and cry.

“Shall I shut them up?” V’lane said.

“No. Leave them alone. They’ll stop in a minute.” I hoped.

They did.

At my direction, he’d sifted us into the rear of the abbey, where I’d hoped to find the dormitories. My guess, based on the sketches I’d seen online, had been accurate. One by one, doors opened, heads popped out, mouths closed, gaped, and closed again.

A familiar head of curly red hair emerged from a nearby room. “Oh, you are so fecking dead!” Dani exclaimed. “You were in serious trouble before, but now she’s going to kill you.”

“Watch your language, Dani,” chastised the woman who appeared in the doorway behind her.

Dani rolled her eyes.

“I’d like to see her try,” I said.

The outer corners of the gamine redhead’s mouth twitched.

“How dare you come here? How dare you bring that thing in here?” demanded a pajama-clad sidhe-seer, stabbing a finger at V’lane. Another head popped into view behind her, nose heavily bandaged. I knew that woman. My fist had met her face earlier today. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, and narrowed on me with hostility.

When he stiffened, I placed a hand on his arm, careful to harbor no Nulling intent, in a show of solidarity I hoped would defuse his aggression.

The corridor was now filled with sidhe-seers in various stages of undress. Not because of V’lane, but because it was after midnight and I’d woken them. Apparently, he was proving true to his word. Not a single sidhe-seer was undressing. I didn’t feel the ghost of a sexual tingle. Nonetheless, they were all staring fixedly at him.

“I didn’t dare come here without Prince V’lane.” The use of his title pleased him; I felt muscle slide smoother beneath his skin. “Rowena sent six of you after me today.”

“I saw the ones that returned,” the pajama-clad woman snapped. She glanced over her shoulder at her bandaged roommate, then back at me, her gaze frigid. “Those that lived were badly beaten. There’s not a scratch on you. Not a single bruise.” She paused, then spat, “Pri-ya.”

“I am not Pri-ya!”

“You travel with a Fae Prince. You touch him freely, of your own accord. What else could you be?”

“Try a sidhe-seer who’s working with a Fae Prince in order to help Queen Aoibheal find the Sinsar Dubh so she can fix the mess we’re all in,” I said coolly. “V’lane approached me on the Seelie queen’s behalf, because I can sense the Book when it’s near. I’ve been—”

She gasped. “You can sense the Sinsar Dubh? Is it near? Have you seen it?”

Sidhe-seers up and down the corridor turned to each other, exclaiming.

“Can’t any of you sense it?” I glanced around. The faces turned toward me reflected astonishment. It mirrored my own. I’d thought surely there would be others like me. One or two, at least.

Dani shook her head. “The ability to sense Fae objects is extremely rare, Mac.”

Her roommate said stiffly, “The last sidhe-seer with that ability died a long time ago. We’ve not been successful at breeding those bloodlines.”

Breeding those bloodlines? The soft Irish lilt didn’t soften the words a bit. They were cold. Made me think of white coats and labs and petri dishes. It was no wonder I was so highly sought after. No wonder Barrons was so determined to keep me alive, and I had a Fae prince playing lapdog, and the Lord Master hadn’t yet launched a full-scale attack against me. They all needed me alive. I was Tigger. I was the only one.

“You killed Moira!” the woman in the door across the hall accused.

V’lane regarded me with acute interest. “You killed one of your own?”

“No, I didn’t kill Moira.” I addressed the sidhe-seers, who were all regarding me with open hostility, with the exception of Dani. “Rowena killed Moira when she sent her after me to beat me up and take my spear.” The woman had a name: Moira. Did she have a sister, too, who was now mourning her like I grieved for Alina? “I’m just as horrified by what happened today as you are.”

“Sure you are,” someone scoffed.

“She doesn’t even say she’s sorry,” another spat. “Just comes in here with her fancy Fae guard and blames our leader. I’m surprised she didn’t bring a Hunter along, too.”

I’d give them an apology if they wanted one. “I’m sorry I unsheathed my spear and was holding it. I’m even sorrier she decided to lunge for me right then. If she hadn’t, she’d be alive.”

“If you hadn’t refused to give us the spear, she would, too,” someone called.

“The spear isn’t yours,” another woman cried. “Why should you have it? There are only two weapons that kill Fae. More than seven hundred of us share the sword. You have the other. Do what’s right. Give it to those who were born and bred to have it!”

Others concurred.

Born and bred, my petunia. As if I were something less! “I’m the only one who can sense the Book, and I have to be out there every night, hunting for it. Do you have any idea what Dublin’s like right now? I wouldn’t survive a night without it. Besides, I’m the one who risked my life to steal it.”

My accuser sniffed and turned away, folding her arms. “Stealing. Working with a Fae Prince. Killing one of our sisters. You are not one of us.”

“I say she is, and she just got off to a bad start.” Dani said. “She didn’t have anyone to help her figure things out. How would you guys have done in the same situation? She’s just trying to survive, like we all are.”

I smiled. I’d once asked her the same thing and she’d acted all snotty and perfect, but apparently she’d gotten my point. I admired her courage, defending me like that. Barely thirteen or fourteen, and she had the balls of a bull. It was also the longest run of sentences I could recall hearing her string together, unplugged by a single cussword.

“Go back to bed, kid,” someone called.

“I am not a fecking kid,” Dani bristled. “I’ve killed more of them than any of you.”

“What’s your kill count now, Dani?” Last time we talked, she’d had forty-seven Unseelie kills to her credit. With her sidhe-gift of heightened speed, armed with the Seelie Hallow, the Sword of Light, she had to be a formidable fighter. I’d like the chance to find out one day, to battle at her side. The two of us could seriously watch each other’s backs.

“Ninety-two,” she said proudly. “And I just got this big, nasty fecker with dozens of mouths and a huge, disgusting dick—”

“All right, Dani, that’s it,” her roommate said sharply, forcibly turning her from the door. “Back to bed,”

“You got the Many-Mouthed Thing?” I exclaimed. “Way to go, Dani!”

“Thanks,” she said proudly. “He was tough to kill. You wouldn’t believe—”

“Bed. Now.” Her roommate shoved Dani into the room and pulled the door shut behind her, remaining in the hall.

“You know she’s just standing on the other side of the door, listening,” I said. “What’s the point?”

“Stay out of our business, and get that thing out of here.”

“Well said,” came the voice of steel I’d been waiting for.

Sidhe-seers fell back, allowing a silver-haired woman through. I’d wondered how long it would take her to get here. I’d wagered two or three minutes. It had taken her five. I’d wanted a few minutes alone with the sidhe-seers, unimpeded by Rowena, to clear my name. I’d said what I had to say to her followers. Now I had a few things to say to their leader.

I glanced up at V’lane. He returned the look, face impassive, but his eyes were blades, hundreds of sharp shiny edges that could spill blood in the blink of a lethal eye.

With a rustle of her long white robes, the old woman stopped in front of me. Her age was impossible to pinpoint; she might be sixty, she might be eighty. Her long silvery hair was intricately plaited in a crown above a finely wrinkled face. Glasses rested on a small pointed nose, magnifying the fierce intensity and intelligence in her piercing blue eyes.

“Rowena,” I said. She was wearing what I guessed must be Grand Mistress garb: a white hooded robe, with emerald trim, and a misshapen shamrock—the symbol of our Order’s pledge to See, Serve, and Protect—emblazoned on the breast.

“How dare you?” Her voice was low, controlled, and furious.

“Oh, you should talk,” I said, in the same tight voice.

“I invited you to assume your place among us and waited for you to accept my offer. You didn’t. I could only conclude you had turned your back on us.”

“I told you I would come and I was planning to, but a few things came up.” Things like being hunted down, abducted, locked up, and tortured to death. “It was only a few days.”

“It was a week and a half! Days matter now, even hours.”

Had it really been a week and a half? Time flew when you were dying. “Did you give them orders to kill me if it was the only way they could get my spear?”

“Och, it was not I who spilled sidhe-seer blood today!”

“Oh, yes, it was. You sent them after me. You sent six of your women to attack me. I would never have killed any of them, and they know it. They saw it happen. Moira collided with my spear. It was a terrible accident. But it was just that—an accident.”

She slipped her glasses from her nose, and let them rest on her chest, suspended by a chain of delicate seed pearls behind her neck. Without taking her gaze from my face, Rowena addressed her enclave. “She’s calling murder an accident, she is. Betraying us to our enemies and guiding them past our wards. This woman is our enemy, too.”

“I have known where your kind hide for millennia,” V’lane purred. “Your wards are laughable. They could not prevent a nightmare of me from getting in. You stink of old age and death, human. Shall I weave you dreams of it, haunt you with them?”

Rowena stared past him. “I do not hear it speaking.” To me, she said, “Give me the spear and I will permit the two of you to live. You will remain here with us. It will leave and never return.”

Snow dusted my cheeks. Soft gasps filled the corridor. Some of the sidhe-seers held out their hands, palms upward, to catch the whirling, icy flakes. I guessed none of them had seen a Fae prince before.

V’lane’s voice was even colder than the unnatural snow caused by his displeasure. “Do you think to kill me with the sword you have hidden in your robes, old woman?”

I groaned inwardly. Great. Now he had both weapons. Should I Null him and try to take them back?

Rowena reached for the blade. I could have told her not to bother. V’lane raised the sword she sought in a flash of silver, and rested the razor-sharp tip in the wrinkled hollow of her throat.

The Grand Mistress of the sidhe-seers went very, very still.

“I know your kind, old woman. And you know mine. I could make you kneel before me. Would you like that? Would you like your lovely little sidhe-seers to watch you writhe naked in ecstasy before me? Shall I make them all writhe?”

“Stop it, V’lane,” I said sharply.

“She did not save you from me,” he said, reminding me of the time he’d nearly raped me in the museum. “She stood by and watched you suffer. I merely mean to—how do you say it? — return the favor. I will punish her for you. Perhaps then you will forgive me a little.”

“I don’t want her punished, and it wouldn’t be a favor. Stop it.”

“She interferes and offends you. I will eliminate her.”

“You will not. We have a deal, remember?”

Sword poised at her throat, hilt balanced on his palm, he glanced at me. “Indeed, I remember. You are helping me aid your race. For the first time in seven thousand years, Fae and Man are working together for a common cause. It is a rare thing, and necessary if we both wish to survive with our worlds intact.” He looked back at Rowena. “Our combined efforts will accomplish what all your sidhe-seers put together cannot. Do not make me angry, old woman, or I will abandon you to the Hell that is coming if MacKayla fails to find the Sinsar Dubh. Cease trying to steal her weapon from her, and start protecting her. She is the best hope for your race. Kneel.”

I didn’t care for that “best hope for your race” stuff. I test poorly. I’ve never functioned well under pressure.

He forced Rowena, white-lipped and shuddering, to her knees. I could see the battle raging within her small, sturdy frame. Her robe trembled, her lips peeled back from her teeth.

“Stop it,” I said again.

“In a moment. You will never again come before me bearing weapons, old woman, or I will forgo the promises I have made, and destroy you. Help her in her quest to help me, and I will let you live.”

I sighed. I didn’t need to take a look around to realize that I had made no friends here tonight. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d made things worse. “Just give her back the sword, V’lane, and get us out of here.”

“Your wish, my command.” He took my hand and sifted us out.

The instant we rematerialized a few dozen yards from the Viper, I slammed him with the palms of both hands, willing him to freeze with every ounce of that foreign place inside my skull.

Unlike the first time I’d tried Nulling him the night we’d met, he stayed frozen longer than a few heartbeats. I was so surprised that I didn’t move myself, until he began to move, and I hit him again, putting everything I had into my desire to neutralize Fae. If intention was what counted, I was strong in that department. I’d been intending to grow up one day, for years. I had intentions down pat.

I timed it. He stayed frozen for seven seconds. I searched him quickly for my spear, patting him down, sending little “Stay frozen, you bastard” messages with my palms along the way.

No spear.

I stepped back and allowed him to unfreeze.

We stared at each other across the ten feet I’d put between us and I saw many things in his eyes. I saw my death. I saw my reprieve. I saw a thousand punishments in between, and knew the moment he decided to take no action against me.

“It’s really hard for you to view me as a valid life form, isn’t it?” I said. “What would make you take me more seriously? How many years would I have to live to count as whatever it is you credit as being worthwhile?”

“Longevity is not the defining factor. I do not credit most of my own race as worthwhile; a view born not of arrogance but of eons spent among those who are the worst of fools. Why did you Null me, sidhe-seer?”

“Because you majorly screwed up my plan in there.”

“Then perhaps the next time you should confide in me the subtler nuances of your plan. I believed you wanted to establish the upper hand, and I endeavored to aid you in achieving that end.”

“You made them think I was allied with you. You made them fear me.”

“You are allied with me. And they should fear you.”

My eyes narrowed. “Why should they fear me?”

He smiled faintly. “You have barely begun to understand what you are.” Abruptly, he vanished.

Then his hand was in the curls at the back of my head, and his tongue was pushing in my mouth, and that hot, dark, frightening thing was piercing my tongue and embedding itself there, and I exploded in a violent orgasm.

He was ten feet away again, and I was sucking air like a fish out of water and floundering as badly. Shock waves of such intense eroticism rocked me that I was momentarily immobilized. If I’d tried to move, I would have collapsed.

“It only works once, MacKayla. I must replace my name on your tongue each time you use it. I assumed you did want it back?”

Furious, I nodded. Figured he’d not told me about that little catch.

He disappeared. This time he did not reappear.

I felt for my spear. It was back.

I stood still, waiting for the last of the aftershocks to pass. I wondered if I’d actually succeeded in Nulling V’lane tonight, or if he’d been faking it. I was growing increasingly paranoid, wondering if everyone was playing games with me. Surely anything that could move that fast could evade my sophomoric efforts at sidhe-seer magic. Or had I genuinely taken him by surprise? What might he gain by pretending? An ace in the hole? That maybe someday I’d really need to Null him, and that would be the day I’d find out it didn’t work, and never had?

I turned around and began walking toward the Viper. I hadn’t glanced in its direction since we’d materialized. I did now, and gasped.

The Wolf Countach was parked on the far side of it, deep in the shadows, and Jericho Barrons was leaning back against it, arms crossed over his chest, dressed from head to toe in black, every bit as dark and still as the night.

I blinked. He was still there. Hard to peel apart from the darkness, but there.

“What in the. how. where did you come from?” I sputtered.

“The bookstore.”

Duh. Sometimes his answers make me want to strangle him. “Did V’lane know you were standing there?”

“I think the two of you were a little too busy to see me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you didn’t need backup. If you’d told me you were taking your fairy little boyfriend, I wouldn’t have wasted my time. I resent it when you waste my time, Ms. Lane.”

He got in his car and drove away.

I followed him most of the way back to Dublin. Near the outskirts, he kicked his horses into a gallop I couldn’t match, and I lost him.