Barrett bent over, hands on his knees. His limbs were heavy, weighted with weariness. Even the mud-streaked asphalt looked promising as a place to lie down, assuming he found some cover. He strengthened the magic surrounding him and sucked air. The goddamned humans and their atomic weapons had poisoned the atmosphere. It would hasten the end of the war, but at what price? He swept his gaze over an uninterrupted vista of gray. The sky, clouds, remaining buildings, and ground were all the same depressing color. He didn’t have to try very hard to hear the Earth cry and curse her guardians, the Sidhe, for doing such a piss poor job protecting her.

“The Weres, Druids, and Witches are ready to talk. The Fairies agreed to mediate.” A familiar voice sounded from behind him.

Barrett straightened and turned to face Caelin. With the Daoine Sidhe queen long dead, Caelin was their de facto leader. All the other Sidhe answered to the Daoine, so he was responsible for thousands of them. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that before dragging them into the war.

“Nice of them to consent to parlay while there’s still something left to salvage,” Barett muttered.

“Isn’t it, though?” Caelin’s customary sarcasm rang through. He spread his arms wide. “That last atomic blast decided things.”

Tall and wraith-thin, Caelin looked about as trashed as Barrett felt. His shoulders sagged. Bright red hair had escaped his warrior braids and hung to his waist in tangles. His battle leathers drooped in tattered shreds. Bits of grit, leaves, and dirt mingled with everything. His sharp-boned face was streaked with grime, and he regarded Barrett intently out of dark blue eyes.

“Maybe it’s for the best.” Barrett met Caelin’s gaze. “We’ve been fighting for close to ten years. If the humans hadn’t felt threatened and pulled out all the stops, this might have turned into a hundred-year war—if any of us lived that long.”

Caelin snorted. “We coexisted with those bastards for thousands of years. The minute they got a whiff they weren’t the only ones on the planet, they overreacted.”

A corner of Barrett’s mouth twisted wryly. “You have to admit magic can be a bit off-putting for humans.”

“Well, they fucked themselves.”

“That may be so,” Barrett retorted,” but we instigated their reaction. It might’ve been accidental, but our magic did kill them. They had no idea their deaths fell into the collateral damage category and pulled out bombs to retaliate.”

Caelin shook his head. “Didn’t work well for them, did it? There won’t be very many left once the atomic dust settles.”

Barrett quirked a brow at his leader. “To borrow from your vernacular, they’ve managed to fuck us too, by dying. We’re going to have to figure out how to keep things running without them.”

“Point taken. Be sure to toss it on the table when we draw up a Covenant with the other magic wielders.” Caelin shook his head. “Despite all our efforts, there are more Weres left than any of the rest of us—”

“Only because they breed like rabbits.”

Caelin waved him to silence. “Be that as it may, we must secure their cooperation. Otherwise, our numbers will be far too small to maintain any semblance of civilization. I’m talking about infrastructure, things like electricity, water, the Internet, the cellular system, and food.” He ticked them off on his fingers as he talked. “All the things humans used to take responsibility for. It’s fortunate enough structures are still standing to house most of those left.”

“Where and when is this meeting scheduled?” Barrett hoped he could catch a few hours of sleep. He’d been up for the better part of the last two days.

“It’s now. In the Opera House since it’s mostly intact. Walk with me.” Caelin set off at a moderate pace.

Barrett caught up to him. His muscles ached. A headache pounded behind one eye. Normally, he would’ve used magic to ease both, but he was seriously depleted. What little remained of his power was focused on filtering subatomic particles out of the air before it entered his lungs, so the radioactive fallout didn’t damage him. “I still wish—”

“Don’t say it. Even in my worn-out state I have enough magic left to read your thoughts.” Caelin set his jaw in a stubborn line Barrett recognized only too well. The Daoine Sidhe leader had never liked being questioned, nor was he open to discussion about his decisions.

Fine. Read my thoughts then. You can pretend they don’t exist, but we both know differently.

The loss of their queen, Ivanne, had heated the rift between the Weres and the Sidhe to a boiling point and proven disastrous. She’d been a skilled mediator, navigating difficult political waters with grace and skill. Caelin was a warrior. He saw the world in black and white. Convinced the Weres had murdered Ivanne, he’d convened the Council, dominated it with his anger, and led the Sidhe to war. At first it was just Sidhe against Weres. Then Witches and Druids jumped into the fray, some on one side, some on the other. The only magical beings who’d remained neutral were the Fae and the Fairies.

“The Weres poisoned Ivanne. Her death demanded retribution.” The harsh gravel of Caelin’s voice broke into Barrett’s thoughts.

Barrett grabbed Caelin’s upper arm and forced the other man to a standstill. “Stop justifying yourself. War never solved anything. Not in human history, or in ours, either.” He swung an arm wide. “Look. Just look what a mess we’ve made. It will take decades for Earth to recover, if she ever does. Deep in my soul, she reprimands me over and over for our part in the destruction.”

A sheepish look flitted across Caelin’s face. He ran a hand down it, distorting his features. “Glad I’m not the only one she nags.”

A brittle anger filled Barrett, setting his guts on fire. “We deserve to be nagged. More than nagged, we deserve to be chastised—”

“It’s not like I did this singlehandedly.” Caelin sounded defensive. “The Weres could’ve capitulated anytime.”

Barrett let go of Caelin’s arm. He pounded a fist into his open palm. “Damn it! You know better. Weres never apologize. They’re constitutionally incapable of admitting they were wrong about anything. It’s their dual natures. The animal side takes over and—”

“Spare me.” Caelin thumped his hands on Barrett’s shoulders, digging his fingers in hard enough to make Barrett wince. “If I made a mistake avenging Ivanne, it’s water long passed under the bridge. Think, man. That was ten years ago. We must play the ball where it is today. There’s little enough of our royalty left. Here in the Americas, it’s you and me. I must have you standing solidly beside me. The Weres will sniff it out soon enough if we’re not aligned with one another.”

Barrett blew out a breath. Annoyance scoured his nerves. He hated to admit it, but Caelin was right. If the war was finally edging toward détente, the next task would be crafting a Covenant with terms advantageous to all Sidhe, not just the Daoine. And making certain it enlisted everyone’s aid healing the damage done to Earth.

He ducked from beneath Caelin’s hands, squared his shoulders, and swept straggling copper-colored hair out of his face. “You need have no fears on that front. You have always had my allegiance and support.” Of a height with Caelin, Barrett locked gazes with him. “You’re a brilliant tactician. And a fearless warrior. I only wish you had a bit more in the way of warmth and compassion to temper things.”

A wry grin split Caelin’s face. He didn’t smile often. The effect was electrifying, bringing his latent beauty to the forefront. He punched Barrett lightly. “I wish for a lot of things too. Problem is I rarely get any of them.” He inclined his head in a mock bow. “After you.”