“I told you the truth. I did not kill her, which means someone else walking around out there did. You are so certain I’m the villain. What if your real villain is closer to you than you think?”

“I’m going to bottom-line this again: You made me Pri-ya.” I spat, then fished. “You set four Unseelie Princes on me.”

“Three.”

I stared. I knew there’d been a fourth. “You were the fourth?”

“That would have served no purpose. I am not Fae at the moment.”

“Then who was the fourth?” My hands fisted in my lap. Being raped was bad enough. Being raped and not knowing if your fourth rapist was someone you knew was even worse.

“There was no fourth.”

“Not believing a word you say.”

“The fourth Unseelie Prince was killed hundreds of thousands of years ago, in battle between the queen and king. That child”—he shot a glance out the window—“killed another when I tried to reclaim you at the abbey.”

A memory from my fractured state of consciousness surfaced sharply: Lying on the cold stone floor, believing salvation was at hand. A flame-haired warrior. A sword. I remembered. It was a shameful memory. I’d wanted to kill Dani for killing my “master.” And I was still mad at Dani for killing the prince—but for an entirely different reason: I wanted to be the one to kill the bastards.

“The princes want revenge. They want me to let them have her. They are mine to command.”

I stared at him, not missing the threat but still trying to digest that there was no fourth prince. How could the LM not have known a fourth was there? Was there a fourth, or had I imagined it?

“What has Barrons tried to make of you, MacKayla? And V’lane? A tool for their purposes. They’re no different than me. My methods have merely been more direct. And more directly effective. Everyone is trying to use you.” He glanced out the window. “If not for her interference, I would have succeeded. I would have had the Sinsar Dubh by now and been back in Faery.”

“Leaving our world a complete mess.”

“What do you think Barrons would do? Or V’lane?”

“At least try to put the walls back up.”

“You’re so certain?”

“You’re just trying to make me doubt everyone.”

“If you obtain the Sinsar Dubh for me, MacKayla, I will reclaim the Unseelie and restore order to your world.”

Not a word in there about restoring the walls. “And give me my sister back?” I said dryly.

“If you wish. Or you may come visit us in Faery.”

“Not funny.”

“I did not intend it to be. Whether you wish to believe it or not, she mattered to me.”

“I saw her body, you bastard!”

His lids half dropped, his mouth tightened. “As did I. It was not done by me or at my direction.”

“She told me you were coming for her! That she was afraid you wouldn’t let her out of the country! She wanted to come home!”

His lids lifted. He looked startled. On a human face, I would have called his expression pained. “She said that?”

“She was crying on the phone, hiding from you!”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not from me, MacKayla. I do not believe she thought it was me. She knew me better than that. Yes, she’d found me out. Discovered what I was. But she didn’t fear me.”

“Stop lying to me!” I lunged to my feet. He’d killed her. I had to believe that. In the huge sea of unknowns that had become my existence, there was one certainty, and it was my life raft. The Lord Master was the bad guy. He’d killed Alina. That was my absolute. My unwavering truth. I couldn’t let go of it. I couldn’t survive in a state of complete paranoia.

He reached into his coat, took out a photo album, and tossed it on the couch. “I expect you to give this back to me. It is mine. I came in peace today,” he said, “and offered you one more chance at an alternative to war between us. The last time you refused me, you saw what I did. Three days, MacKayla. I will come for you in three days. Be ready. Be willing.” He glanced out the window. He reached into his coat again and this time pulled out the amulet on its thick gold chain. It glowed at his touch. He looked at it for a moment, then at me, as if debating testing it. I was a sidhe-seer and a Null, impervious to Fae magic. Would it work on me? Expect the unexpected, I reminded myself. I could make no assumptions.

“I will let you keep the child, today. She is a gift from me to you. I can give you many, many gifts. The next price I call due will not be … as you say … refundable.” He rapped sharply on the window and nodded.

The princes were gone.

Dani slumped into a puddle of mud.

The LM vanished.

“They made me throw away my sword, Mac,” Dani said, teeth chattering.

I dabbed gently at the blood on her cheeks. “I know, honey. You told me.” Seven times in the past three minutes. It was all she’d said since I helped her up from the puddle, dug out a metal teapot, opened two bottles of water, heated it over the fire the LM had left burning, and began cleaning her up.

“Dunno how you survived,” she said, and began to cry.

I wiped at her cheeks some more, pushed at her hair, fretted and fussed like my mom and Alina had fretted over me whenever I wept.

She didn’t cry pretty. She cried like a storm breaking loose, a storm that had been brewing for a long time. I suspected she was crying for things I knew nothing about and might never know. Dani was an intensely private person. She cried like her heart was breaking, like her soul was in those tears, and I held her, thinking how strange life was. I’d thought I was fully engaged in life back in Ashford, Georgia, 100 percent invested.