I recite feverishly:

And the Raven never flitting still is sitting, still is sitting on the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door …

“Look around you. You can’t even control one Book. How do you think to control two,” Ryodan says.

Jada/possibly Dani says coolly, “In fishing for information, one might advocate the use of interrogatories.”

Ryodan laughs. “Ah, Dani, there you are. You can run. But you can’t hide.”

“If by that you mean this Dani person to whom you so erroneously and tediously refer also remarked upon your deliberate omission of proper punctuation as a psychological tactic intended to subtly coerce, the logical conclusion is merely that multiple women find your methods transparent,” she delivers in a cool rush.

If Jada wasn’t currently threatening me, I’d like her for that one. I should run but I’m stuck on this train wreck channel, trying to decide if Jada could possibly be Dani, trying to silence my inner demon o’er whom the lamplight isn’t streaming so well. It’s goading me, scaring me, telling me they’re going to imprison me and no one will care. No one will save me.

Barrons won’t let that happen.

Barrons took your memory, the Sinsar Dubh reminds. He’s mercenary to the big, badass core. You are not the exception to his self-serving rules. There are no exceptions.

“You signed a contract I keep in my office,” Ryodan says to Jada. “Drop by, I’ll show it to you.”

“I signed nothing. But if I had, a coerced oath endures only as long as the coercer holds greater power. There’s no power greater than mine in this room.”

Ryodan says softly, “Holy strawberries, Dani, we’re in a jam.”

I look at him like he’s sprouted two heads. Holy strawberries? In a jam? Even Barrons looks stumped.

He continues, “But don’t worry. Holy priceless collection of Etruscan snoods—you really butchered that one, by the way—I’ve got it in the bag. How about this one: holy borrowing bibliophile, let’s book.”

Jada’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly.

“Ah, but I couldn’t possibly have heard that one, could I. Unless I was there when you didn’t know it. As I’ve always been there. Dani. I know what’s wrong. And we’re going to fix it.”

“My name is Jada and there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m superior in every way.”

Now she sounds like Dani.

“I tasted your blood. I know your fucking soul. I felt you in Chester’s and I felt you tonight.”

“Like you, I have no soul. Like you, there are ledgers to be balanced. You’re in the red. Unlike you, I don’t sit at a desk and endlessly shove papers around.”

“You talk as if you know me.”

“So I’ve heard. If you tasted someone’s blood against their will, it is likely that person will kill you for it.”

“Bring it on. Dani.”

“Jada.”

“You think this keeps you safe. You think you don’t feel.”

“There are ledgers. Those I kill. Those I reward.”

“There are legends. You used to be one.”

She says coolly, “I am legend.”

“Dani’s a legend,” Ryodan says. “Not you.”

“This Dani appears to matter to you.”

“Always.”

“Perhaps you had a funny way of showing it.”

“How would you know.”

“I’ve heard.”

“You’ve heard, my ass. I know you. I saw you when Dani was ten. Jada. You looked right back at me. We fought that night. I won her back from you and I will again. I’ve seen you other times as well. You may wear a woman’s body now but it belongs to Dani. You have no right to be here.”

I gape at Ryodan. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? Not only did Dani leave and come back older, but she came back someone else? There’s a word for it … I rummage for what remains scattered around my brain from the entry-level psychology course I took … aha! Dissociative disorder. Is he saying she’s fragmented? And he knew this? No way. I would have seen it. Wouldn’t I?

Jada trains her emerald gaze on me. “She is who doesn’t belong here. Faulty logic imprisons one Sinsar Dubh while the other is permitted to roam Dublin. It is what it is regardless of the vessel.”

“Oh, you should so talk,” I snap. “Dani.”

“I. Am. Jada.”

“Whoever the fuck you are,” Barrons growls, “you’re not touching Mac.”