We’ve become politicians.

Kat demanded the abbey be off limits to all Fae, and that Barrons and Ryodan immediately secure the perimeter with stronger wards, to which the majority agreed, five to three—then, of course, the Unseelie argued again for more Unseelie at the table so they could gain the upper hand, which, of course, the majority overruled, six to two, with R’jan on our side. The Unseelie seem unaware of what lies beneath the abbey walls. It appears the Seelie who were with us that night aren’t talking. I pray it stays that way.

Rath and Kiall insisted their lairs be off limits to us, governed by their laws and none other. Any who enter belong to them. And all may enter if they choose.

R’jan demanded we recognize him as king of the Fae, but the Unseelie Princes instantly declared war against him and he recanted. For now. The three princes are a war waiting to happen. It’s just a matter of time. Each will work tirelessly in coming weeks to pack the most Fae possible behind their claim for the throne.

The Song of Making could restore the walls between our worlds, shut them all out, and preclude possibility of war further ravaging our planet. I think I have a pretty good idea where it is. But my problem with doing anything to pursue it is twofold: the only one capable of using it is the concubine/Seelie Queen who’s missing along with the king, and I don’t dare go anywhere near the all-powerful song with the Sinsar Dubh inside me. I won’t put that final, fantastical magic in its hands.

Deep down I feel the Book stir, sniffing around the edges of my brain, trying to skim my mind.

I swiftly bury all thought of the song in one of the many padlocked boxes in my brain and resume reciting silent poetry, vowing to never think about it again until the king has removed his parasite from my body.

And the silken, sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before …

Ryodan lobbied successfully to restore the euro as the only acceptable currency, which baffled me at first. It couldn’t be more worthless … unless every supplier of goods in the city agrees to provide for nothing but the euro. Then it becomes the only thing worth having all over again.

He argued that a unilaterally enforced currency was essential to achieving sustainable order, a point that wasn’t easy to make with the three princes, as currency is an alien concept in their society. I agree it will restore a much-needed sense of normalcy to our city’s inhabitants. I’m surprised the men are willing to give up the barter system with its immediate benefits for the chance to be king, but these are wild days and this summit attended by primal males that thrive in times of chaos.

Barrons says little. His presence says enough.

For the past twenty minutes we’ve been debating the finer nuances of how to get the money out there and reestablish it as the norm. I wasn’t surprised to learn Ryodan cleared out the city’s bank vaults in the early days right after the fall. He’s always miles ahead of everyone in matters of business.

“What of the new sidhe-seers?” Kiall suddenly demands.

New? “Nothing about the sidhe-seers,” I say instantly. “They are mine.”

Beside me, Kat gently clears her throat.

“ ‘Ours,’ ” I amend. “We already discussed that. You stay off their land.”

He sneers. “It is not her group that concerns us. They are no threat compared to the other. I am surprised they have no representative at this table.”

I glance at Kat, who looks as shocked as me. Chester’s nightclub is the pulsing heartbeat of Dublin, and if there are new sidhe-seers in town, he knows about it. “Ryodan?”

Ryodan affirms it with a silent nod.

“There’s another group of sidhe-seers in town?” Kat exclaims. “Why didn’t they come to the abbey? We’d be happy to have them.”

“They would not be so happy to have you,” Rath mocks. “You are nothing alike. You are weak and pliable. They are steel.”

Barrons says, “All sidhe-seers are off limits to you.”

“Fuck you,” Kiall says. “One of them infiltrated our compound and took out thirty of my finest before we were able to stop her. I keep her in a cage, happily mindless.” He slants a look at me. “She sucks my dick at my command with the zeal of one I knew before.”

Barrons’s chest expands and I don’t have to look at him to know his eyes are glittering bloodred. I see the change in the princes’ faces across the table. Fury explodes in my blood so hot and hard, it hits my heart like a sledgehammer. Some days I’m made of nothing but triggers. Rape scars deep.