“I didn’t spike the Orb. I bought it at an auction. Somebody set me up.”

He said it with such a complete lack of heat that I almost believed him.

There was another long silence.

He slid a bag from his shoulder, dropped it at my feet. It was my backpack.

“Where’d you get that? I didn’t see it in the room when I left, and I hunted for it.” I’d wondered where it had gone.

“Found it here at the abbey while I was waiting for you to get back.”

I frowned. “How long have you been here?”

“Since late last night. I spent all day yesterday trying to find you. By the time I tracked you here, you’d left again. Easier to wait for you to come back than waste time tracking you again.”

“Doesn’t your trusty little brand work?” I rubbed the base of my skull where he’d stamped his mystical tattoo. The one that had failed me when I’d needed it.

“I can sense your general direction, but I can’t get a solid lock on you. Haven’t been able to since the walls came down. It’s working more like a compass than a GPS, now that Fae realms have splintered ours.”

“IFPs. I call them Interdimensional Fairy Potholes.”

He smiled faintly. “Funny girl, aren’t you?”

We lapsed into another uncomfortable silence. I looked at him. He looked away. I shrugged and looked away, too.

“I wasn’t—” I began.

“I didn’t—” He began.

“How charming,” V’lane cut us off. His voice arrived before he did. “The very portrait of human domestic bliss. She’s on the floor, you’re towering over her. Did he strike you, MacKayla? Say the word and I’ll kill him.”

It annoyed me to think V’lane might have been hanging around, invisible, eavesdropping on us. I gave him a sharp look when he appeared. My hand slipped instantly inside my coat, searching for my spear, holstered beneath my arm. It was gone. V’lane never let me keep it in his presence, but he always returned it when he left. I hated that he had the power to take my weapon. What if he didn’t give it back? What if he decided to keep it for his race? Surely he would have taken the spear and the sword months ago, if he’d wanted them. He’d give it back this time, too, I thought coolly. Otherwise the almighty Book detector would tell him to piss off.

“As if you could,” said Barrons.

“Perhaps not. But I do enjoy thinking about it.”

“Bring it on, Tinker Bell.”

I stood up.

V’lane laughed, and the sound was angelic, celestial. Although he no longer affected me sexually, he still packed that otherworldly punch. Regal, larger than life, he would always be too beautiful for words. He was dressed differently than I’d ever seen him, and it suited his golden perfection. Like Barrons, he wore an elegant dark suit, crisp white shirt, and blood-red tie.

“Get your own fashion adviser,” Barrons growled.

“Maybe I decided I like your style.”

“Maybe you thought if you were more like me, she’d fuck you, too.”

I flinched, but my reaction was nothing compared to V’lane’s.

I was frozen for a moment, stiffer than the Tin Man without oil. I gave a full body shudder, and ice tinkled to the floor. I stepped forward, leaving my frosty casing behind. The entire library—furniture, books, floor, lamps, walls—glistened with a thin sheet of ice. The bulbs popped, one after the next.

“Stop it,” I snapped, breath frosting the air. “Both of you. You’re tough guys. I get it. But I’m tired and fed up. So say whatever you came here to say, without all the posturing, then get the hell out.”

Barrons laughed. “Good for you, Ms. Lane.”

“Bottom-line it, Barrons. Now.”

“Get your things. We’re going back to Dublin. We have work to do. The sidhe-seers didn’t save you. I did.”

“It was Dani who rescued me.”

“You would have died here if not for me.”

“I would have saved her,” said V’lane.

“Bottom-line it, V’lane. And mop up your mess.” The ice was melting. “I’m not cleaning up after either of you. And fix the lamps. I need light.”

The lamps glowed again. The library was dry. “The Book was spotted recently. I know where and can sift you about, hunting it. You can track it much more quickly with me than with him.”

“And you’ll report to the Grand Mistress on our progress?” I said dryly.

“I aided Rowena only to pave the way for us to continue the moment you were able. I answer to you, as always, MacKayla. Not her.”

“After your queen,” I said bitterly. “The one you chose to stay with instead of rescuing me.”

“You were first to me,” Barrons said. “There was no queen in front of you with me.”

“Right. No queen—just four days,” I reminded. “I don’t believe it took you that long to find me. Care to tell me where you were the whole time? What did come before me?”

He said nothing.

“I didn’t think so.”

I crossed the room and moved to stand by the fireplace. It was the old-fashioned kind, made for logs, with no gas hookup. V’lane’s temper tantrum had left me chilly. It had been a cold night in Dublin, and this unused wing was minimally heated. I missed my bookstore fires. I wanted comfort. “Make me a fire, V’lane.”