Abruptly, she’s no longer bouncing but standing still, looking at me, mouth hanging open, but nothing’s coming out.

She stares past me, at me, then past me again. Her lips tighten and her eyes narrow. Her hand flashes inside her coat.

I can tell by the look on her face that it encounters emptiness where her sword should be. But she doesn’t back up, not Dani. She stands her ground. If I had anything left inside me, I’d smile. Thirteen and she’s got the heart of a lion.

“Something going on here I ain’t getting, Mac?” she says tightly. “I’m standing here, see, trying to think of a reason, any ol’ reason at all, you might be kissing that fecker, but I ain’t finding none.” She glares at me. “Thinking this is a little worse than me watching porn. Dude.”

Oh, yes, she’s upset. She just unapologetically “duded” me. I steel myself. “Lot going on here you ain’t getting,” I say coolly.

She searches my face, wondering if I’m playing double agent or something, undercover with the enemy. I need to convince her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m not. I need her to go away and stay away. I can’t afford a superspeedy supersleuth interfering with my plans.

I also don’t want her around long enough for Darroc to realize she could cause serious problems for us if she felt like it. Penalty-free zone or not, there’s no reality in which I could kill Dani or watch her be killed by anyone else. Family isn’t always born; sometimes it’s found.

She said the Book was at the abbey. I need to know when. Until I discover how Darroc plans to merge with the Sinsar Dubh and am certain I can do it myself, I’m not getting him anywhere near it. I’m going to play the same game with Darroc that I played with V’lane and Barrons—only now for a very different reason—called “Dodge the Dark Book.”

“Like what, Mac?” She props her fists at her waist. She’s so upset she’s vibrating, shivering so fast that her edges are getting blurry. “Prick tore down the walls, killed billions, wiped out Dublin, had you gang-raped—I’m the one that saved you, ’member? And now you’re sucking on”—she grimaces and shudders—“the feckin’ tongue of an Unseelie-eater! What the feck?”

I ignore all of it. “When was the Book at the abbey?” I don’t ask if people were hurt. The woman who is willing to ally herself with Darroc doesn’t care. Besides, I won’t let it happen in my new and improved version of the future.

“Gonna try this again, Mac. What the feck?” she fires.

I fire back, “Gonna try this again, Dani. When?”

She stares a long moment, then her jaw pokes out stubbornly and she crosses her skinny arms over her chest. She glares at Darroc, then back at me. “You Pri-ya or something again, Mac? Only without the being-naked-and-horny-all-the-time part? What’d he do to you?”

“Answer the question, Dani.”

She bristles. “Barrons know what’s going on? Think he needs to. Where’s Barrons?”

“Dead,” I say flatly.

Her slender body jerks and she stops vibrating. She had a major crush on Barrons. “No, he ain’t,” she protests. “Whatever he is ain’t killable. Least not easy.”

“Wasn’t easy,” I say. It took two of the people he trusted most in the world, a spear in the back, a gutting, and a slit throat. I wouldn’t call that easy.

She stares at me hard, searching my gaze.

I focus on dripping scorn.

She gets it and stiffens. “What happened?”

Darroc moves in behind me and slips his arms around my waist. I lean back into him.

“MacKayla killed him,” he says bluntly. “Now answer her question. When was the Book at the abbey? Is it still there?”

Dani sucks in a breath. She’s vibrating again. She won’t look at Darroc, only me. “This ain’t funny, Mac.”

I agree. It’s not. It’s hell. But it’s necessary. “He had it coming,” I lie coldly. “He betrayed me.”

She puffs up, fists at her waist. “Barrons ain’t the betraying kind. He never betrayed you! He wouldn’t do that!”

“Oh, grow up and pull your head out! You didn’t know shit about Barrons! You’re not old enough to know shit about anything!”

She goes still, brilliant green eyes narrowing. “I left the abbey, Mac,” she says finally. She gives a hollow laugh. “Think I kinda burned my bridges, ya know?” She searches my face. And I feel another blade in my heart. She burned them because of me. Because she believed that I was out there somewhere and we had each other.