I stared. That was the last thing I’d expected. Had I created an addict? “Why?” I said warily. Was he craving it like I was? Could he sense the tiny jars of wriggling flesh in my purse, yet to be deposited on the upper floors of the store? I could. I’d been feeling the dark pull of it beneath my arm all afternoon.

“I swore to uphold the peace in this city. And I will. But I can’t this way. I’m a sitting duck,” he said bitterly. “You were right, I didn’t know what was out there, but now I do. And I don’t sleep at night anymore, and I’m angry all the time, and I’m useless, and it’s more than my job to fight it, it’s who I am. It’s who Patty was, too, and that’s why he died. His death should mean something.”

“It could end up meaning your death,” I said softly.

“I’ll take that chance.”

He didn’t even know my “tea” would give him superpowers. He just wanted to be able to see them again. I could hardly blame him. I’d created this problem by feeding it to him in the first place. How would I feel in his shoes? I knew the answer to that: After an initial period of denial, exactly the same. Jayne wasn’t the ostrich I’d pegged him as, after all.

“If you betray yourself, they’ll kill you,” I warned.

“They might kill me anyway, and I won’t even see them coming.”

“Some of them are pretty horrific. They can startle you into betraying yourself.”

He gave me a tight smile. “Lady, you should see the crime scenes I’ve been on lately.”

“I need to think about it.” Eating Unseelie had many repercussions. I didn’t want to be responsible for what the good inspector might become.

“You’re the one who opened my eyes, Ms. Lane. You owe me. You get one more heads-up on the house, but after the next crime, it’s no tea, no tips.”

He dropped me a few blocks from the bookstore.

The interior lights of Barrons Books and Baubles were at the closed-for-business level when I let myself in, which was enough to keep Shades away but little more.

I moved to the counter, dropped my flashlights, and stripped off my jacket. There were some papers on it that hadn’t been there earlier. I riffled through them. They were receipts for a backup generator, a state-of-the-art security system, and a proposal for installation. The bill was astronomical. An appointment was noted for the work to begin the first week of November.

I didn’t hear him behind me. I felt him. Electric. Wild. One foot in the swamp. Never going to crawl all the way out. And I wanted to have sex with whatever he was. Where was I supposed to put that in my head? I wadded the thought up, stuffed it in my padlocked box, and tested the chains. I was going to need a few more.

I turned and we had one of those wordless conversations that were our specialty.

Nice apology, I said, but not enough.

It’s not an apology. I don’t owe you one.

Our wordless conversation ended there. We’re getting worse at them. Distrust clouds my eyes, and I can’t see past it.

“Do you have news for me, today, Ms. Lane?” said Barrons.

I thrust my hands in my pockets. “No run-ins with the Book.”

“No calls from Jayne?”

I shook my head. He could Voice me on that one, and I’d still be able to say no. He’d asked the wrong question. I took perverse pleasure in that.

“Any contact with V’lane?”

“Aren’t you Question Boy tonight? Why don’t you try judging my actions?” I said. “Speaking of which, I’ve decided I see the wisdom of your advice.”

“Has Hell frozen over?” he said dryly.

“Funny. I’m not going to ask you questions tonight, Barrons. I’m going to ask you for three actions.” It seemed my gut had come up with a plan. I hoped my instincts were sound.

Interest uncoiled like a dark snake in his eyes. “Go on.”

I reached beneath my jacket, removed my spear from the shoulder harness, and held it out to him. “Here. Take this.”

Here it was, the moment of truth. So simple. So telling.

Dark eyes narrowed; the snake in them moved. “Who have you been talking to, Ms. Lane?” he said softly.

“No one.”

“Tell me what you’re after or I won’t play your little game.”

There was no room for negotiation in his voice. I shrugged. It was past time to force this confrontation. “I’ve heard that an Unseelie can’t touch a Seelie Hallow.”

“So, now I’m not eating them,” he said, reminding me of a prior accusation I’d made against him, “I am them? You’ve quite the imagination, Ms. Lane.”