Then I begin to feel her.

She is alive. She still wears my mark.

But what I sense is incongruent with her situation. I expect grief. The woman killed me and, in humans, familiarity breeds a certain emotional bond.

But lust? On the heels of murdering me, who does she lust for?

I entertain myself with thoughts of searing my brand from her skull.

When I finally arrive at the bookstore, what do I see in the alley behind it?

The woman that summoned me to save her, then stabbed me in the back at the first opportunity, isn't lost in the Silvers, in need of saving.

She's standing in my alley, kissing the bastard that had her raped and turned her Pri-ya Pri-ya.

No, let us be perfectly precise: She's grinding herself against him and shoving her tongue halfway down his throat.

My monster rattles its cage.

Violently.

9.

Mac! Hey, Mac! Din't'cha hear me? I said, 'What the blimey feck you doing?'"

I stiffen. I'm drifting in a dark place where I feel nothing, because if I did, I'd kill myself. No right, no wrong. Just distraction. "Ignore her," Darroc growls against my mouth.

"Mac, it's me! Dani. Hey, who the feck you kissing?"

I feel her zinging from side to side behind me, stirring my hair with the breeze she creates, trying to see who I've got up against the wall.

She's seen him twice before and would recognize him. The last thing I need is her carrying news back to the abbey: Mac's teamed up with the Lord Master, just like her sister! Just like Ro said! Feckin' traitor-must run in the feckin' blood! Mac's teamed up with the Lord Master, just like her sister! Just like Ro said! Feckin' traitor-must run in the feckin' blood!

Rowena would exploit it ruthlessly, send every sidhe sidhe-seer she has to get in my way and try to take me down. The narrow-minded bitch would put more effort into hunting me than she'd ever spent hunting Fae.

A sudden gust ruffles my shirt, and my hair flies straight up in the air.

"That ain't Barrons!" Dani snaps indignantly.

The name goes through me like a knife. No, it ain't ain't Barrons and, unless I'm convincing, it never will be again. Barrons and, unless I'm convincing, it never will be again.

"It ain't V'lane, neither!" Anger mixes with bafflement in her voice. "Mac, what'cha doing? Where the feck you been? I been looking all over for you. Been a month. Maaac!" she wails the last part plaintively. "I got scoop! Pay attention to me!"

"Shall I get rid of her?" Darroc murmurs.

"She's a little tough to shake," I murmur back. "Give me a minute."

I step back, smiling up at him. No one can accuse the Fae of lacking in the lust department. It blazes in his not-quite-human eyes. Banked in that heat, I see surprise he tries but fails to mask. I suspect my sister was a little more...refined than I am.

"I'll be right back," I promise, and turn slowly, buying time to brace myself for dealing with Dani. I'm going to have to hurt her to get rid of her.

Her face is bright, eager. Her unruly mass of auburn curls is tamed beneath a black bike helmet, lights ablaze. She has on a long black leather coat and high-top black sneakers. Somewhere under that coat is the Sword of Light, unless Darroc sensed it and took it, too. If it's still there, I wonder if I could draw it swiftly enough to impale myself before she managed to stop me.

I have goals. I focus on them. No time to indulge my guilty conscience and even less point. When I'm done with what I plan to do, everything that happens in this alley tonight will never have taken place, so it doesn't matter that I hurt this this Dani, because she won't have to live through it in the future I create. Dani, because she won't have to live through it in the future I create.

The enormity of freedom that grants me makes me suddenly breathless. Nothing I do from this moment forth will ever come back to bite me in the ass. I'm in a penalty-free zone. I have been since the moment I decided to remake it all.

I study Dani with strange detachment, wondering how much I should change for her. I could keep her mother from being killed. Give her a life that would never harden her, that would let her be open, soft. Let her have fun like Alina and me, play on a beach, not be out in the streets hunting and killing monsters by the tender age of...however old she was when Rowena turned her into a weapon. Eight? Ten?

Now that she has my attention, she beams, and when Dani beams her whole face lights up. She bounces from foot to foot, burning off excited energy. "Where you been, Mac? I missed you! Dude Dude-I mean, man man," she corrects hastily, with a gamine grin, before I can make good on a threat I made in what feels like another lifetime that I would call her by her full name if she ever "duded" me again. "You ain't never gonna believe what's been going on! I invented Shade-Busters, and the whole abbey's been using 'em-even though they ain't saying nothing about how brilliant I am, like I musta accidentally stumbled onto it or something, when those stupid sidhe sidhe-sheep never woulda in a gazillion years," she mutters sourly. But then she brightens again. "And you're never gonna believe it-even I can't hardly-but I kicked a Hunter's ass and killed the fecker!" She frowns and looks a little irritated. "Well, maybe Jayne helped some, but I'm I'm the one that killed it. And, feckin' A, you ain't never gonna guess this one the one that killed it. And, feckin' A, you ain't never gonna guess this one-dude!" She begins bouncing from foot to foot so quickly and agitatedly that she becomes a black leather smudge in the night. "The feckin' Sinsar Dubh Sinsar Dubh came to the abbey and it-" came to the abbey and it-"

Abruptly, she's no longer bouncing but standing still, looking at me, mouth hanging open, but nothing's coming out.

She stares past me, at at me, then past me again. Her lips tighten and her eyes narrow. Her hand flashes inside her coat. me, then past me again. Her lips tighten and her eyes narrow. Her hand flashes inside her coat.

I can tell by the look on her face that it encounters emptiness where her sword should be. But she doesn't back up, not Dani. She stands her ground. If I had anything left inside me, I'd smile. Thirteen and she's got the heart of a lion.

"Something going on here I ain't getting, Mac?" she says tightly. "I'm standing here, see, trying to think of a reason, any ol' reason at all, you might be kissing that fecker, but I ain't finding none." She glares at me. "Thinking this is a little worse than me watching porn. Dude."

Oh, yes, she's upset. She just unapologetically "duded" me. I steel myself. "Lot going on here you ain't getting," I say coolly.

She searches my face, wondering if I'm playing double agent or something, undercover with the enemy. I need to convince her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I'm not. I need her to go away and stay away. I can't afford a superspeedy supersleuth interfering with my plans.

I also don't want her around long enough for Darroc to realize she could cause serious problems for us if she felt like it. Penalty-free zone or not, there's no reality in which I could kill Dani or watch her be killed by anyone else. Family isn't always born; sometimes it's found.

She said the Book was at the abbey. I need to know when. Until I discover how Darroc plans to merge with the Sinsar Dubh Sinsar Dubh and am certain I can do it myself, I'm not getting him anywhere near it. I'm going to play the same game with Darroc that I played with V'lane and Barrons-only now for a very different reason-called "Dodge the Dark Book." and am certain I can do it myself, I'm not getting him anywhere near it. I'm going to play the same game with Darroc that I played with V'lane and Barrons-only now for a very different reason-called "Dodge the Dark Book."

"Like what, Mac?" She props her fists at her waist. She's so upset she's vibrating, shivering so fast that her edges are getting blurry. "Prick tore down the walls, killed billions, wiped out Dublin, had you gang-raped-I'm the one that saved you, 'member? And now you're sucking on"-she grimaces and shudders-"the feckin' tongue of an Unseelie-eater! What the feck?" the one that saved you, 'member? And now you're sucking on"-she grimaces and shudders-"the feckin' tongue of an Unseelie-eater! What the feck?"

I ignore all of it. "When was the Book at the abbey?" I don't ask if people were hurt. The woman who is willing to ally herself with Darroc doesn't care. Besides, I won't let it happen in my new and improved version of the future.

"Gonna try this again, Mac. What the feck?" she fires.

I fire back, "Gonna try this again, Dani. When?"

She stares a long moment, then her jaw pokes out stubbornly and she crosses her skinny arms over her chest. She glares at Darroc, then back at me. "You Pri-ya Pri-ya or something again, Mac? Only without the being-naked-and-horny-all-the-time part? What'd he do to you?" or something again, Mac? Only without the being-naked-and-horny-all-the-time part? What'd he do to you?"

"Answer the question, Dani."

She bristles. "Barrons know what's going on? Think he needs to. Where's Barrons?"

"Dead," I say flatly.

Her slender body jerks and she stops vibrating. She had a major crush on Barrons. "No, he ain't," she protests. "Whatever he is ain't killable. Least not easy."

"Wasn't easy," I say. It took two of the people he trusted most in the world, a spear in the back, a gutting, and a slit throat. I wouldn't call that easy.

She stares at me hard, searching my gaze.

I focus on dripping scorn.

She gets it and stiffens. "What happened?"

Darroc moves in behind me and slips his arms around my waist. I lean back into him.

"MacKayla killed him," he says bluntly. "Now answer her question. When was the Book at the abbey? Is it still there?"

Dani sucks in a breath. She's vibrating again. She won't look at Darroc, only me. "This ain't funny, Mac."

I agree. It's not. It's hell. But it's necessary. "He had it coming," I lie coldly. "He betrayed me."

She puffs up, fists at her waist. "Barrons ain't the betraying kind. He never betrayed you! He wouldn't do that!"

"Oh, grow up and pull your head out! You didn't know shit about Barrons! You're not old enough to know shit about anything anything!"

She goes still, brilliant green eyes narrowing. "I left the abbey, Mac," she says finally. She gives a hollow laugh. "Think I kinda burned my bridges, ya know?" She searches my face. And I feel another blade in my heart. She burned them because of me. Because she believed that I was out there somewhere and we had each other.

I console myself with the thought that at least she won't be rushing back to Rowena to tell her I'm sleeping with the enemy and I won't have a pack of rabid sidhe sidhe-seers on my tail.

"Thought we were friends, Mac."

I see in her eyes that all I have to do is say, "We are," and she'll find some way to deal with what she's looking at right now. How dare she put so much faith in me? I never asked for it, never deserved it.

"You thought wrong. Now answer the question." I'm the only one who never treated her like a child. She hates being called "kid" more than anything. "Kid," I say. "Then get the hell out of here. Take your toys and go play somewhere else." say. "Then get the hell out of here. Take your toys and go play somewhere else."

Her brows climb her forehead and her mouth pulls down. "What did you just say?" did you just say?"

"I said, kid kid, answer my question and go away! We're a little busy here, can't you see?"

She's bouncing from foot to foot again, a smudge of darkness in the dark. "Feckin' grown-ups," she bites out through clenched teeth. "All the feckin' same. Feckin' glad I feckin' left the feckin' abbey. You can just go to hell! You can just go to hell!" She shouts the last words, but they catch a little as they come out, like they get tangled up on a sob she's forcing back down.

I don't even see the blur of black move away. There's a burst of light from her MacHalo as she flashes into motion like the Enterprise Enterprise entering warp speed, then an empty alley. entering warp speed, then an empty alley.

I'm startled to realize that I think she's just the tiniest bit faster. Is she eating Unseelie? I'm going to kick her ass all over Dublin if she's eating Unseelie.

"Why didn't you stop her, MacKayla? You could have exploited her trust in you to get information about the Book."

I shrug. "Kid always got on my nerves. Let's go hunt ourselves a sidhe sidhe-seer. If we can't find one, Jayne's men are bound to know what's going on."

I turn away from Barrons Books and Baubles toward what used to be the biggest Dark Zone in Dublin. It's a wasteland now, not a single Shade left. When Darroc brought the walls crashing down on Halloween and Dublin went dark, the amorphous vampires escaped their prison of light and slithered on to greener pastures.

Hurting Dani took all my energy. I'm in no mood to walk past BB&B. I'd have to confront the obvious-that, like the man, the store is big, silent, and dead.

If I walk past it, I'll have to force myself not to stare hungrily at it. Have to ignore that, in this reality, I'll never enter those doors again.

He's gone. He's really, truly gone.

My bookstore has been lost to me as completely and irrevocably as if the Dark Zone had finally swallowed it up.

I'll never own it. I'll never open those diamond-paned cherry doors for business again.

I'll never hear my cash register's tiny bell ring or curl up with a cup of cocoa and a book, warmed by a cozy gas fire and the promise of Jericho Barrons' eventual return. I'll never banter with him, practice Voice, or be tested against pages of the Sinsar Dubh Sinsar Dubh. I'll never steal hungry glances when I think he's not looking at me, or hear him laugh, or climb the back stairs to my bedroom that's sometimes on the fourth floor and other times on the fifth, where I might lie awake and practice things to say to him, only to end up discarding them all because Barrons doesn't care about words.

Only actions.

I'll never drive his cars. I'll never know his secrets.

Darroc takes my arm. "This way." He turns me around. "Temple Bar."

I feel his eyes on me as he guides me back toward the bookstore.

I stop and look up at him. "I thought there might be things you needed from the house on LaRuhe," I say casually. I really really don't want to walk past BB&B. "I thought we should rally your troops. We've been gone a long time." don't want to walk past BB&B. "I thought we should rally your troops. We've been gone a long time."

"There are many places I keep supplies, and my army is always near." He makes a slicing gesture in the air and murmurs a few words in a language I don't understand.

The night is suddenly twenty degrees cooler. I don't have to look behind me to know the Unseelie Princes are there, in addition to countless other Unseelie. The night is suddenly thick with dark Fae. Even with my "volume" muted, there are so many, so close to me, that I feel them in the pit of my stomach. Does he keep a contingent of them a mere sift away at all times? Have the princes been hovering all this time, listening for his call, a half dimension beyond my awareness?

I'll need to remember that.

"I am not not walking around Dublin with the princes at my back." walking around Dublin with the princes at my back."

"I said I will not let them harm you, MacKayla, and I meant it."

"I want my spear back. Give it to me now."

"I cannot permit that. I saw what you did to Malluce with it."

"I said I won't harm you, Darroc, and I meant it," I mock. "See how that feels? Little hard to swallow, isn't it? You insist that I trust you, but you won't trust me."

"I cannot take the risk."

"Wrong answer." Should I force the issue and try to take the spear? If I succeed, will he trust me less? Or respect me more?

When I seek the bottomless lake in my head, I don't bother closing my eyes to do it. I just let them go a little out of focus. I need power, strength, and I know where to find both. With almost no effort at all, I'm standing on a black-pebbled beach. It has always been there for me. It always will be.

Distantly, I hear Darroc speaking to the princes. I shiver. I can't bear the thought of them behind me.

Deep in its cavernous depths, the black water churns and begins to bubble.

Silvery runes like the ones I encircled myself with on the cliff's edge break the surface, but the water keeps boiling, and I know it's not yet done. There's something more...if I want it. I do. After a few moments, it pushes up a handful of crimson runes that pulse on the inky water like slender deformed hearts. The bubbling stops. The surface is once again as smooth as black glass.

I bend and scoop them up. Dripping blood, they flutter in my fists.