I changed the subject. He hits me with so much sometimes that it’s easier to veer on to some other topic, one that would put me on the offensive, and him on the defensive instead of vice versa. “Why did the Lord Master take one look at you and leave? What are you, Barrons?”

“The one who will never let you die, and that’s more, Ms. Lane, than anyone in your life has ever been able to say to you. More than anyone else can do.”

“V’lane—”

“V’lane sure as fuck didn’t come get you in the grotto, did he? Where was your golden prince then?”

“I’m sick of your evasions! What are you?” I stalked over to him, punched him in the shoulder. “Answer me!”

He knocked my hand away. “I just did. That’s all you’re getting. Take me or leave me. Stay or go.”

We glared at each other. It seemed like all we did anymore. But there was no real fight in me, and he sensed it.

When I went to the sofa and sat down, he turned away.

“I assume you are yourself again,” he said, staring into the fire.

“How did you know that?”

“I spent the past few days researching the ramifications of what you’d done, to find out if it was reversible. I learned the effects of eating Unseelie are temporary.”

“If you’d bothered showing up on Monday, I could have told you that myself.”

He turned. “It wore off that quickly?”

I nodded.

“Are you entirely restored? Can you sense the spear again?”

“Never fear, your OOP detector is back,” I said bitterly. “Oh, and it looks like O’Bannion replaced Mallucé for the Lord Master.” I filled him in on the younger brother’s visit, that he’d eaten Unseelie.

Barrons took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. Even with all that space between us, we were too close. I remembered the feel of his wild, electric body on top of mine. I remembered lying beneath him with my shirt ripped to my neck, the look on his face. I looked away.

“I’ll ward the store against him. You’ll be safe so long as you’re inside.”

“If I was already tattooed, why couldn’t you find me when V’lane had me in Faery?” This was a bit of illogic that had been nagging at me.

“I knew you were in Faery but I couldn’t track you there. The realms shift constantly, making it impossible to follow the…beacon.”

“Why did you make me wear the cuff if I was already tattooed?”

“So I could explain being able to find you if I had to.”

I snorted. “What a tangled web we weave, huh? Does it really work as a locator cuff?”

He shook his head.

“Does it do anything?”

“Not that concerns you.”

“What did the Lord Master do to me that made me obey him?”

“Parlor tricks. It’s called Voice. A Druid skill.”

“You knew that parlor trick yourself. Is it something someone else can learn to do? Me, for example?”

“I doubt you’ll live long enough to learn it.”

“You did.”

“You have no training.”

“Try me.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Did you use it on my father? Is that what made him leave the next morning, after he and I had argued all night and I couldn’t get him to go?”

“Would you have had him stay?”

“Did you use it again when he called here, when I was in Faery for a month?” I was beginning to understand his methods.

“Should I have let him fly over and get himself killed?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the abbey, Barrons?”

“They are witches and liars. They would tell you anything to woo you to their side.”

“Sounds like somebody else I know.” Actually it sounded like everybody else I knew.

“I make you no promises I won’t keep, and I gave you the spear. They would take it from you. Give them half a chance and see what they do. Don’t come whining to me when they screw you.”

“I’m going to the abbey in a few days, Barrons,” I told him, and it was a challenge. It was a “You’d better give me whatever freedom I want.” After everything I’d been through, my feelings about things had changed. He and I were partners, not OOP detector and director, and partners had rights. “I’m going to spend some time there and see what they can teach me.”

“I’ll be here when you get back. And should the old woman try to harm you, I’ll kill her.”

I almost muttered a “thanks” but caught myself. “I know there are no male sidhe-seers.” When he opened his mouth I said, “Spare me,” before he could toss a pithy comment my way. “I know you’re male and I know you see them. We don’t need to revisit that. I also know you’re superstrong and that you rarely touch the spear. So how long have you been eating Unseelie, Barrons?”

He gaped a moment, then his shoulders began to shake, his chest rumbled, his dark eyes glittered with amusement, and he laughed.

“It is a perfectly logical assumption,” I bristled.

“Yes,” he said finally, “it is. It startled me with its logic. But it’s not true.”

I studied him through narrowed eyes. “Maybe that’s why the Shades don’t eat you. They’re not cannibals and you’re full of their brethren. Maybe they don’t like dark meat.”