Anna stabbed her with the dagger she'd concealed in Tom's jacket. Under the ribs and through the heart-just like her favorite forensic TV show had taught her.

The fae's eyes flashed surprise, just for an instant, before there was nothing in them at all.

" 'No' was the wrong answer," Anna informed her.

"Don't move," said Tom, and he used the sword that had been sitting against the wall.

Anna pulled the dagger out of the body and cleaned it with a rag Dana had on the small table with her paints. Trying to avoid thinking about what had just happened. And failing miserably.

"That's six headless bodies this trip," she said, hating that her voice shook. "And I'm not counting the first two vampires we killed-because their bodies are dust. Six is just a bit much, don't you think?"

"Maybe she'd have stayed dead," Tom told her. "I don't know much about killing fae. Cold iron is supposed to do the trick-and that dagger's got plenty of that, nice sharp cold iron. But I for damned sure didn't want to run into her ever again after this, so there's no harm in making sure."

"Would you... would you call?" Had she been in time? Did it even work? Was Charles dying while she stood here?

Tom took the bloody rag from her and wiped the sword clean with a few efficient swipes. Then he handed it to her and pulled out his cell.

"Hey, Moira," he said. "How's Charles?"

"Better." Moira sounded half-dead. "Not good. Not good by a long shot. But the curse dissipated a few minutes ago. He'll make it."

"That's what happens when an Omega goes negotiating," Angus commented. "Even the fae can't stand against one."

Tom looked down at Dana's body. "Just so," he said. "Though I don't know that anyone expected exactly this result."

THE troll, in his guise as a street person, was waiting for them just outside the door. He was leaning against the boat, smoking a cigarette and watching his feet.

Tom stepped in front of Anna.

"Well," said the troll, soft-voiced. "I guess that showed 'em. Wasn't no one thought ye had it in ye, Lady. Most especially that one." He tilted his head at the boat.

"She was going to kill my mate."

The troll nodded. "And yourself, too, sounded like. She should have knowed that some people take things like the killing of mates right to heart, all right." He stubbed the cigarette out on his thumb and tossed it into the water. "I'm supposed to take possession of the-"

Anna stepped around Tom and held out the dagger in one hand and the sword in the other.

"They aren't mine," she said. "I don't want them."

The troll stepped back, then had to do some fancy footwork to keep from falling in the water. "Don't you be wishing those on me. Don't you. I'm supposed to take possession of the body. We'll see to it Ms. Dana Shea doesn't get discovered." He seemed calmer once Anna let her hands drop and quit holding out the weaponry. "That's better, there see. Now I'm supposed to ask you to watch over those a little bit longer. Someone will be along to collect them later. Someone else." And just in case she hadn't gotten it, he said. "Someone not me."

"All right," Anna said. "Agreed."

He pulled off the old trench coat he was wearing. "Happen you might want to bundle things up in here. It'll keep 'em out of sight-a little magic... and a lot of material."

She bit back a thank-you. Tom, who took the coat, didn't seem to have the same trouble.

"I'll see that the coat goes to whoever gets the weapons," Tom said instead. "Maybe they can return it."

The troll nodded once and went into the boat.

"Troll," said Tom thoughtfully, and knocked twice on the side of the boat with his knuckles. "I don't suppose I needed to cut the head off, after all. Bon appetit."

THEY were maybe halfway back, although Anna was stumbling tired, so her estimate of distance could have been way off, when she noticed an expensive but anonymous car purring at a junction between the path they were on and a cross street.

"I see it," said Tom, moving between her and the car.

Very conscious of what she was carrying, Anna didn't protest. She didn't want the sword-but there were a lot of people she didn't want to have the sword either. Like the vampire who'd gotten away.

She dropped back a dozen feet and let Tom take the lead. If only the sword had been a gun. She knew how to use a gun.

The back door of the car opened and Bran got out.

Tom didn't look relieved. So Anna broke into what was supposed to be a run but came out as a faster shuffle. "It's good, it's good. Tom, meet Bran Cornick, the Marrok. Bran, this is Tom. I don't remember his last name, but he saved my life."

"Tom Franklin," Bran said. "Thank you. Anna..." He shook his head. "Words fail me."

"Here." She shoved the coat with sword and dagger at Bran. "You take these. I don't want them. Someone is supposed to come pick them up later."

"Ah," he said, and looked down at the battered material. "Seattle is not the place I would have expected to encounter these." He seemed to know what he held even though they were both still wrapped up.

Tom grinned. "Seattle is a city with a certain... panache. Never know what you are going to find when you come for a visit. Good food, friendly people, ancient legendary weapons. Always something different."

"Get in the car," Bran told them. "They're all on the way to Angus's house."

"Charles?" Anna couldn't help but sound anxious.

"He wanted to come with me," Bran said. "But I told him he'd have to wait until he could walk under his own power. He's on his way to Angus's if he's not already there." He got in the car, and Anna slid in next to him, leaving the window seat for Tom.

Bran gave her a laughing glance. "He wasn't happy with me. Or you either. Expect him to yell at you because you scared him badly this time."

"Sounds unfair, to me," Anna said, though it didn't bother her. "I risk my neck to save him, and he yells at me." Charles was alive, he could yell at her all he wanted to.

"If it gets to you, just shed a few tears," muttered Tom. "He'll shut up. Works for Moira."