I don’t heave the sigh of relief I feel.

When Papa Roach speaks, I shiver again. Its voice is pretty much exactly what I’d expect a roach to sound like: a dry, malevolent, insectile rustle. “The one you call Jada has left the abbey. We lost her a few blocks from here.”

“Kasteo.”

“Hasn’t spoken a word. The woman has only just begun to talk to him.”

I wonder, What woman?

“The black hole at the church.”

“Is minutely larger.”

“The Unseelie Princes.”

“Plot to take the spear from the woman and kill R’jan.”

My hand goes instantly to my spear. This time, however, I’m not assaulted by images of death and destruction. My Book is oddly still.

“Their fortifications.”

“Remain unchanged. They grow lax since meeting with you. Believe you think them leashed. Think they have an edge you don’t know about. Believe you’ve overestimated yourself.”

I expect Ryodan to press that issue but he says only, “R’jan’s location.”

“Three days ago moved into McCabe’s old house and is fortifying it. It appears he plans to stay.”

“Bring me precise details on his defenses. Within the hour. Sean O’Bannion.”

“Spoke last night at Temple Bar. Offered jobs rebuilding the pubs and stores for pay, and made it clear he will accept only currency in exchange for goods.”

“The Unseelie Princesses.”

“So far we have seen only the one. Met recently with Jada. They conspire to trade services.”

“For.”

“Jada offered to kill the Unseelie Princes in exchange for the location of the Crimson Hag. The princess is considering it.”

“Take the princess a message. She will trade services with me, not Jada. I will make it worth her while. The Highlanders.”

I thought he was worried about her! Why the hell did he force me to stick around if he’s willing to meet with her without me present?

“R’jan has provided them with three sifting Seelie to help them search in exchange for protection against his various enemies. Seems they have Fae lore he finds useful.”

I listen, gaping. Ryodan’s network of spies is standing right in front of me in a single entity comprised of thousands and thousands of sentient “bugs.” He literally has the whole freaking city bugged. Papa Roach divests various “roaches,” sends them scurrying beneath doors and into cracks to eavesdrop on everything that happens in Dublin and report back. No wonder Ryodan knows everything all the time!

“The Unseelie King.”

“Does not appear to be in Dublin.”

He’s wrong about that.

“Mac.”

“As if she’s vanished.”

I smirk.

“Dancer.”

“Succeeds in evading us occasionally. Not certain how. He spends a great deal of time in the labs at Trinity performing various experiments. He has taken recent interest in a female musician.”

“In what capacity.”

“We have not seen them fuck.”

“The cavern beneath the abbey.”

“We are no longer able to enter. The doors have been closed. Not so much as a crack left to us.”

Okay, what the heck? We tried and tried to close those doors. Who closed them, how and when?

“Recently you neglected to mention details of significance. If the environ at the abbey or either of the princes’ lairs alter in any way, no matter how small, you will report it to me instantly.”

“Understood.”

Papa Roach waits, and when another demand isn’t forthcoming rustles, “Our servitude is nearly up. If you wish to renew our contract again, it will cost you more. There are others who value our services now.”

“For the first time in millennia you can walk among humans in your natural state, only because the Fae have come out and the world thinks you’re one of them. Piss me off and I’ll drive the Fae from this world, sending you back into the cracks and crevices and trenches of war in which you’ve scrounged for rotting carcasses since the dawn of time. You will renew your contract for the same terms. I have always seen to your needs.”

I blink, stunned. Papa Roach isn’t Fae? What the hell is it, then? What a vast, complicated world Ryodan manages!

Then I have a worse thought: Criminy, have all roaches since time immemorial been spies? Or only certain ones, and that’s why every now and then you find one in your bathtub that just won’t die no matter how much hair spray you coat it with or how hard you try to squish it?

Papa Roach makes a dry, grinding sound deep in its throat that’s creepy as hell.

“Our needs have increased.”

“You enjoy parasitic relationships with humans that were never permitted before.”

“We wish it to be required that all humans host one of us.”

I shudder.

Ryodan picks up the dark blade and toys with it. “We will discuss it at your next contract renewal.”

Papa Roach’s round eyes fix on the black blade, and its beak parts, revealing rows of tiny sharp teeth.

I suddenly think I know what the blade does. Kills whatever Papa Roach is.

“As you wish.”

When Papa Roach leaves, Lor walks in.

Dressed.

I decide to stay a little longer and leave with Lor. Who knows what I might learn next?

“Sit,” Ryodan barks.