V’lane said nothing.

“What does he have on you?” I cried, exasperated.

“Decide, Ms. Lane,” Barrons said, behind me.

“Choose,” V’lane agreed.

“Go to hell, both of you! New world. New rules. New me. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”

“To call me, you will require my name back,” V’lane said.

“So it can fail me again when I need it?”

“It failed only during that brief time when all magic was down. Such a moment is impossible to sustain. Darroc will not attempt it again. He does not need to. He achieved his end.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. And I would. All weapons. Good.

Something clattered to the floor at my feet. It was a cell phone.

I didn’t turn. “What’s that for? Duh, no towers, remember?” I mocked.

“It works,” said Barrons. He paused heavily, the better to emphasize his coup de grâce. “It always did.”

My breathing stopped. What he was saying was not possible. I spun, searched his eyes. “The power was down! My call to Dani was disconnected. I never got service back!” I knew. I’d kept checking all night.

He moved toward me so quickly, I didn’t see him coming and had no chance to react. His body was pressed to mine, his lips were against my ear.

I leaned into him and inhaled. I couldn’t help myself.

He whispered, “O ye of little faith. Not for IYD.”

It was the number he’d programmed into my cell, which stood for If You’re Dying.

“But you didn’t even try.”

His tongue touched my ear. Then he was gone.

I sat on the edge of the sofa, rubbing my eyes. I needed sleep in the worst way, but I suffered few illusions that I was going to get any.

My encounter with V’lane and Barrons had left me too wired for words, and soon the abbey would be waking up, and I’d have a whole new set of challenges to face.

I stroked the glittering beauty of my spear.

True to form, V’lane had returned it when I’d demanded he leave. After reassuring myself with its comforting weight, I tucked it back into my shoulder holster.

I toed my old backpack over by the strap and dug around in it for my journal. I was surprised to find it. I thought someone would have confiscated it. I figured it was a pretty safe assumption both Rowena and Barrons had read it.

I rubbed the embossed leather cover, grateful to see it again, as if it were an old friend. Since Alina had been killed, I’d filled three notebooks with feelings, speculations, and plans. At first, I’d begun keeping a journal as a sort of tribute to her, a way to somehow connect to her memory.

Then I’d learned I could pour my grief into its pages, instead of hurting my parents with it. Finally, I’d discovered what my older sister had known all along: that it was an invaluable tool for sorting thoughts, clarifying and refining them, and planning future action.

God, I missed her! What I would give to sit and talk with her again! To hug her and tell her that I loved her. Since her death, I’d realized how few times I told her what she meant to me. I’d always assumed she knew, that we’d have decades together, planning each other’s weddings, having baby showers, sending our children off to school together, taking pictures at their proms: a lifetime of sisterhood. I steeled myself. No time for emotion. When this was all over, I would wallow in grief. I would make V’lane give her back to me again, in Faery. I would grant myself the balm of illusion. When all this was over, I would deserve it.

I flipped to a fresh page and began making notes of everything I’d learned recently. If something happened to me, I wanted to leave as detailed a record behind as possible for the next idiot who tried to do something about the mess we were all in.

• I can walk through wards. All of them? Or just certain ones?

• I’m immune to Fae glamour. Must test this on a Fae besides V’lane.

• Barrons can kill Fae. How? V’lane won’t tell me. Why?

• Christian is missing. Is he alive?

• The Keltar ritual failed. What did they try and what went wrong? Must learn more about Druid magic. Is it possible I can do Druid magic, too? V’lane said once that I had only begun to discover what I was. Like Dani, I need to test my limits.

• Jayne is leading a civilian army that he’s trained to eat Unseelie, protecting Dublin. There are still people in the city. Where? Should we try to move them out, to a safer place?

• Iron has some kind of effect on the Fae. What does it do, and does it work the same on every caste? How effective a weapon?

I made a second column on the page, a to-do list:

• Form troop to investigate IFPs.

• Form troop to collect iron to make weapons and bullets.

• Form troop to figure out how to make weapons and bullets.

• Get into the Forbidden Libraries. Find out: What is the Haven’s prophecy, and who are the current members? What are the five?

Someone had been sending me pages of Alina’s journal. From her notes, I’d learned that in order to do whatever it was my sister had been trying to do (I assumed stop the Book and drive the Fae from our world), she’d learned there was a prophecy known to the Haven—which was the sidhe-seer’s High Council—that said we needed three things: the stones, the Book, and the five.

I knew what the stones were: four bluish-black rune-covered rocks that, according to Barrons, could either translate parts of the Dark Book or “reveal its true nature.” Barrons had two of them in his possession. V’lane had the third or knew where it was. I had no idea where to find the fourth.

I knew what the Book was, too. That was easy.

Unfortunately, I had no idea what the five were.

I hoped the prophecy might clear things up, and I figured the best place to look for any prophecy about sidhe-seer matters was in Rowena’s Forbidden Libraries, which was why I was so determined to secure a foothold at the abbey. I didn’t care how much I pissed off Rowena. It was the support of the sidhe-seers I wanted.

I added a more immediate, personal goal to my to-do list:

• Take Dani into Dublin tonight and try to track down Chester’s and Ryodan.

IYCGM was If You Can’t Get Me on the cell phone Barrons had given me. I’d called it once. It was answered by a man named Ryodan, and we’d had a very cryptic, Barrons-like conversation. I was willing to bet my last pair of clean panties—and I was dangerously low on them—that Ryodan was one of Barrons’ eight. Both Barrons and Inspector O’Duffy had mentioned talking with the mysterious Ryodan at a place called Chester’s. I’d been meaning to track him down for months, but I’d been distracted by one crisis after another.

I had no idea what or where Chester’s was or if it even still existed in the rubble that was Dublin, but if there was an opportunity to find one of the eight men who’d stormed the abbey with Barrons to free me, I wasn’t about to pass it up. Any man who knew Barrons, any man Barrons trusted to cover his back, was someone I wanted to have a nice, long face-to-face talk with.

On the pantie note:

• Loot store tonight for new underwear.

A lot. Doing laundry wasn’t something I saw myself having time for in the near future. I raked a hand through my hair. My nails were long against my scalp. They weren’t all that had grown. I’d seen the reflection of my hairdo in a window last night. The cut was still good, but I had an inch of blond roots that made me look like a skunk.

Loot store for hair dye and manicure kit.

I planned to grab more clothes while I was at it. Whether it should matter or not, people responded to outer appearances and were motivated to certain behaviors by them. A well-groomed, attractive leader was much more influential than an unkempt one.

I made a third column: long-term major goals that would hopefully be accomplished short term, because our world was changing drastically, much too fast. These were the critical ones. They had to happen.