That was it. I laughed. It felt like forever since I’d seen her looking like a disgruntled porcupine. Her passion and temper were rising to the surface again.

I agreed. His bulleted lists were a terrific idea, as was posting the paper early each morning before people woke up. No one greeted the day at a loss for what to do, which meant fewer people sitting around bitching, working themselves into a panic, spreading the mood, then the next thing you knew you had a riot forming. He kept them pointed at tasks, moving from one “to do” to the next, and as I’d learned myself a little over a year ago, lists were a damned effective way to manage messy emotions.

After a moment, Enyo continued, and I narrowed my eyes as I listened, beginning to wonder if this tough, battle-hardened sidhe-seer might not just have a bit of a crush on Ryodan. I glanced at Jada and knew by her expression that she was wondering the same thing.

Ryodan had divided the city into numbered districts, Enyo told us, with admiration blazing in her eyes, and each district’s paper had a different bulleted list at the end containing tasks specific to that small enclave of people. Once they arrived on the job, they were assigned to teams, where they began the day with a discussion of what they were going to accomplish and how it served their long-term goals and needs, were fed three squares while on the job, and finished the day with an inspiring wrap-up talk. Each site was run by a foreman who’d been hand-selected by Ryodan for his motivational and leadership skills.

“Okay,” Jada said acidly, kicking her legs over the back of the shattered Chesterfield she’d been perching on and stalking over the paint-stained floor to the door. “That’s all the rah-rah Ryodan crap I can take in one sitting. I need to get out there and see what’s going on with my own eyes.”

I was surprised she was just leaving without waiting for Enyo to take off so she could say, “Wow, Mac, you’re the Seelie Queen now, what’s up with that?” or something similar. But no one had seemed to want to stick around once we returned to Dublin. Cruce had instantly sifted out without a word, Barrons had tersely asked me to “please go to the bookstore and wait there until I get back, and yes, I did just say please, and no, not because you’re the bloody queen of the Faery but because I want you to do it and not argue,” before stalking off with Lor and Fade to find Ryodan. I’d tossed a mild “Okay” at his back, deciding he needed a breather. Finally being free of the evil clutches of the Sinsar Dubh was breather enough for me. I was ready to get invested in the next thing and forget about the last until I went back to destroy the Book for good.

As Jada banged out the door, I remembered my little bell was broken and made a mental note to procure a new one. Assuming I still had a door to attach it to, a building to hang said door on, and a planet for my bookstore to exist upon in a few months.

I tuned back in to the conversation Enyo was still carrying on, despite Jada leaving and my obvious distraction, just in time to hear her say, “So, all in all we lost two hundred and thirty-four of our women the night of the battle and another seventeen the morning after, but in recent weeks we’ve gained nearly twice those numbers from the influx into Dublin.” She added with satisfaction, “Word’s gotten around this is the place for sidhe-seers that are hungry to kick some Fae ass.”

I sat up straighter, kicking my feet over the side of the broken chair I’d dragged from a pile of debris I’d not yet had time to remove from the store. Another seventeen the morning after, she’d said—which for me had been earlier today.

The image the Book had fed me of Jo dying had taken place in the morning. I wet suddenly dry lips. “Do I know any of the sidhe-seers that were killed? Not that I know many on a first name basis, but there’s Kat and Cara, Shauna and Margery, and who else, let’s see, Josie and Jo…” I trailed off, looking at her expectantly.

Enyo said, “We thought we’d lost Kat but she turned up again just a few days ago. Not saying a word to any of us about where she’d been but acting and looking totally different.” She narrowed her eyes. “I, for one, would really like to know where the hell that woman was because I’d bet my eyeteeth she somehow managed to convince Ryodan or one of his men to train her. She wasn’t nearly so cool and strong before she disappeared.” Envy flashed across her beautiful, golden-skinned features. “Don’t know what those men are, but I’d sure like to. And I’d like to get my own stint of training in with one of them.”

“And the other sidhe-seers?” I gently nudged her back to the topic.

“Shauna’s alive, out at the abbey. Cara’s dead, as are Margery and Josie. But the death I most want to avenge is Jo’s.”

My vocal cords were abruptly strung so tight they squeaked like an out of tune violin when I opened my mouth and tried to speak. I had to take several slow, deep breaths before I managed to get out a quiet, “What happened to her?”

Enyo’s nostrils flared, her gaze turning murderous. “None of us know for sure but I can tell you this much—it was a bad death.” She locked eyes with me and said with sudden, savage intensity, “I think about that, you know. In this world, the way things are, you’re a fool if you don’t. What’s a good death, what’s a bad one, and how you want to go when it’s your time. When it’s my time, I want to be doing something that matters, betters the world, and saves people’s lives. I want my death to mean something.” She lapsed into silence, staring off into space, scowling for a long moment, then said in a low, fierce voice, “Jo’s death didn’t mean a damned thing. It looked like an Unseelie stumbled on her while she was searching through the wreckage for food and water to bring us. Whatever did it also put rat poison in the water jugs she’d been collecting. We lost two more sidhe-seers before we figured out that bit of twisted nastiness. If I ever find the Unseelie that killed her, I’ll do to it what it did to her,” she said from between clenched teeth. “Every last fucking bit of it.”

I forced myself to inhale and exhale slowly, carefully. I could change the subject right now. Never ask. Never know. “What did it do to her? I want to know the details,” I said in a voice that must have sounded as terrible to her as it sounded to me. She gave me a weird look, so I added hastily, “How can I help you get even with it if I don’t know what it did?”