I winced as I realized I was thinking of Dani not Jada, and as if she was still fourteen, innocent in that one remaining way. It was highly doubtful Jada’s virginity was an issue. Especially not after the kiss I saw her give Ryodan. Jada was a woman who knew her sexual power. Five and a half years was a long time. Five birthdays. Had anyone celebrated them with her? Or like Barrons, had she come to despise cakes? I wanted to ask Jada if the loss of her virginity had been as stellar as she’d hoped.

Jada would never tell me.

Dancer was watching me, intuited some of my emotion. “She’s still Dani,” he said.

No she’s not, I didn’t say. Because I wanted so much for his words to be true.

“Even if, as he says,” Dancer jerked a thumb at Ryodan, “she has an alter ego, so what? Some people have too much going on inside to be limited to one mode of being. What was Batman but Bruce Wayne’s alter, and the Bat was faster, stronger, smarter, and way cooler. In fact, the case can be successfully argued that Batman wasn’t the alter. Wayne was. Batman had evolved, toughened, become superior in every way and occasionally donned the mask of the man to navigate society. Look at Wonder Woman, aka Princess Diana or Diana Prince, different in each situation. Superman became Clark Kent—”

“We get the fucking point,” Ryodan cut him off.

“I thought Kent became Superman,” I said.

Dancer shot me a derisive look. “Don’t you watch TV? You need to read up on your superheroes. He was born Kal-El on Krypton.”

“Life isn’t a bloody comic strip, kid,” Ryodan said coolly.

“Yes it is,” he said, “and we get to write our own script, so be epic or vacate the page. You’re all taking this way too seriously. Leave it to the Mega to create an alter ego to deal with tough times. Be impressed. Don’t rip it. I’ve got no problem with anyone she wants to be.”

“Say that once you’ve seen her,” Ryodan said.

“I will,” Dancer said. “She wants to be Jada, I’m fine with it. She wants to be Dani, I’m fine with it. Quit looking at it like Jada killed Dani. Figure out how to appreciate both sides of her personality. Christ, you people have to put everything in neat little boxes, don’t you? And if they don’t fit, you get your panties in a twist until you pound things back into the shape you want them. News flash: life doesn’t work that way.”

I blinked, disarmed by his words. Appreciate them both? I might be able to consider that if I’d caught even the tiniest glimpse of Dani since she’d returned.

“Something happened to all your ‘dudes,’ kid,” Ryodan said. “And your clothes. You think Jada might like you more grown-up. News flash: Jada doesn’t like anyone.”

“Anyone she’s seen so far,” Dancer replied. “Rule number one about the Mega: you take her as she is or you don’t get her at all. Try to cage her with boundaries and she’ll go into full battle mode. You of all people should know that.”

“What do you mean ‘him of all people’?” I said.

“He’s supposed to be so bloody smart. He’s blind as a bat where Dani’s concerned. You all are. Your rejection of Jada stems from how guilty you feel about what happened to her and that’s all about your hang-ups, not hers. Stop looking at it like it’s a bad thing and see what she has to offer. Most of all, give her time. We have no clue what she went through. Dani was gone five years plus change and she’s only been back a few weeks. Might take her a few minutes to acclimate. Rush much, folks?” Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the Hummer.

I snorted. “From the mouths of babes.”

Barrons laughed softly.

“I should’ve killed that kid in the alley when I had the chance,” Ryodan said.

—

Arlington Abbey. The place has never been an easy visit for me. The first time I was there, I’d just killed the sidhe-seer, Moira, and had a Fae prince at my side for protection and a show of power. Between V’lane and I, we’d pissed off pretty much everyone inside those walls.

I’d endured my second sojourn there in a hellish haze, Pri-ya, locked in a cell in the dungeon.

The third time I’d called on the Grand Mistress, I arrived armed to the teeth and inspired Dani to steal the sword and spear from Rowena, once again alienating my sister sidhe-seers.

Honestly, my only decent memory of the place was the night we’d interred the Sinsar Dubh, and even that had gone wrong. We’d merely swapped a bodiless Book for an Unseelie prince capable of nearly flawless illusion, adept at calculated, long-term sleight of hand. I didn’t think for a minute Cruce was as “inert” as the Book had once been. Nor did I believe the Unseelie king had taken adequate measures to keep him imprisoned. Now that I was wearing his cuff, I doubted it even more. Jada had taken the cuff off Cruce’s arm. Had she damaged the bars to do it? Was that why the doors were now closed? Had she managed to get the grid to work? Was he still in his prison or merely sealed in the cavernous room? What risks had she taken in her quest to accumulate weapons? Had she weakened the cage enough that Cruce’s escape was only a matter of time?

My fingers curled at the thought, closing on nothing. I hated not having my spear, especially now that I was visible again. I consoled myself with the thought that I’d hated Dani not having her sword nearly as much. After all, she was sitting right on top of his cage. If he escaped, she’d do what she did best—kill. That’d make two Unseelie princes for her tally. The Mega would crow about the spectacular feat from the rooftops. Jada would probably never mention it. But then Jada had no doubt eclipsed Dani’s kill count years ago.

As we drove through the open gates, parked near the fountain, and got out of the Hummer, I stood a moment, blinking. The grounds so closely resembled the gardens outside the White Mansion, with the moonlight silvering lush fantastical flowers, illuminating inky megaliths, shimmering dark roses and vines that didn’t exist beyond Fae realms, that I had to focus on the gray stone walls of the abbey to convince myself I hadn’t somehow slipped inside the Silvers.

On my last visit here Josie had haughtily informed me that Jada was able to stop Cruce’s changes. Good thing, or the abbey might have been as lost as Sleeping Beauty’s castle, swallowed by a Fae forest of vines and thorns. I took hasty note of the megaliths—still uncapped. They’d not yet been turned into a dolmen, a Fae gate to another realm. I really wanted those stones destroyed or at least toppled.

Dancer let out a low whistle as he exited the Hummer. “Didn’t look like this last time I was here,” he said.

None of us bothered replying. I moved to a bush covered with enormous velvety flowers that smelled of night-blooming jasmine, plucked a blossom the size of a grapefruit and played its petals through my fingers. It felt every bit as real as the illusion of my sister. I buried my nose in it. The scent was rich, intoxicating, amplified by the Unseelie in my blood. Did Cruce’s reach extend all the way to Dublin? Was it he who’d fabricated the illusion of Alina, not the Book? Just what the hell was my Book doing?

Ryodan said, “Mac, confirm Cruce is still contained.”

“She can’t. She ate Unseelie again,” Barrons told him.

“Why?” Dancer looked baffled.

“It gives you superpowers,” Ryodan said. “Makes you harder to kill. Stronger. Faster. Guess Dani never shared that fact with you. Wonder why.”

“Obviously she didn’t think I needed it.”

“Or doesn’t care if you survive.”

“Time will tell, old dude.”

“When you’re ash. And I’m still here.”

“Alone. Because Dani and I will have died, battling a supervillain together, and moved on to the next adventure. Together.”

Ryodan said flatly, “Never going to happen,” and stalked off toward the abbey.

I shot Barrons an uneasy look. He didn’t look any more pleased than I felt. Ryodan’s comment had sounded like an insinuation he meant to keep Dani alive at any cost. And he’d already proved he was willing to do what it took.