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  The frightened animal plowed into the encircling crowd, and they split apart like a school of startled fish. The queen whirled, the horse’s shoulder grazed her shoulder, and she started to fall. I ran forward, ready to take advantage when she hit the ground. Unfortunately, Álfar coordination saved her. She managed to tangle a hand in the flying mane and, using the horse’s momentum, she swung up into the saddle.

  She was a good rider, controlling the horse with her legs and only one hand on the reins. Her expression was both twisted and joyful as she prepared to ride me down. She raised the rapier with the motion of a picador going for a bull.

  I didn’t wait for the power to take a hand. I had this one under control, for I had seen how the rider handled this animal and I knew how it had been trained. I faced the charging horse, threw up my hand, palm out, and shouted,

  “HALT!”

  At almost the same moment, Parlan snapped out a single word in the Álfar language. The horse planted its front feet and went into a hard-sliding stop. The queen, balanced to spit me and perched lightly in the saddle, somersaulted over the horse’s head and landed hard on her back, right at my feet. The sword flew out of her hand. I planted my foot on her chest and placed the point of the sword at her throat.

  “Give up?”

  “The proper term is yield,” John drawled from the sidelines.

  “Okay. Yield.” For an instant it hung in the balance. Please, yield, please, I prayed, because I knew I couldn’t actually drive that blade into her delicate white throat and kill her.

  She nodded a tight, barely perceptible gesture. My Scoobies burst out cheering, and suddenly I was getting hugged and my cheek was being kissed.

  * * *

  “You’re like the dog with the proverbial car. You’ve caught the damn thing. Question is, what the hell are you going to do with it now?”

  Parlan, John, and I were all gathered in the Queen’s personal quarters in the Álfar Dakota. The art deco furnishings made me feel like I was in a BBC production of some 1920s mystery. It was John who had spoken. I glanced over at him and tried to reconcile the modern speech patterns out of someone dressed like an operetta prince. What I hated to acknowledge was that he had raised a valid point, and Parlan supported him by saying, “He speaks truth. With your victory, you are the ruler of this principality.”

  I studied the two men. The one so clearly human and so clearly comfortable in his Álfar finery. The other clearly Álfar and not so comfortable. They were like funhouse mirror images of each other even down to their speech patterns. I didn’t answer. Instead I wandered into the bedroom to try and quell my agitation. Both men trailed after me.

  I studied the elaborate sleigh bed, which seemed to be carved from mother-of-pearl. Our entry set the fragile draperies around the bed to swaying. I stopped and stared at the jewels that were overflowing a silver box on a dressing table. A quick check of the closet cemented my conclusion.

  I turned back to the men. “She left everything.” I knew the queen, with her remaining loyal followers, had decamped the premises within minutes of her defeat, but this was just crazy.

  “Yes. To the victor go the spoils,” Parlan said quietly. I wondered if his rage against the woman was now colliding with the reality that she owed her downfall to him.

  “So what? She’s like an Álfar bag lady now?”

  Parlan looked confused, but John got it. “No, someone will take her in. Maybe even my father.”

  “Your dad’s alive?” John nodded. “So why wasn’t he around?” I asked.

  “He runs some other place. And they don’t get along. Actually, I don’t think he likes her very much.”

  “Gee, quelle surprise.” I moved to the jewel box and picked up a heavy emerald necklace. I set it aside with a clunk. I twined a long rope of pearls through my fingers. “I didn’t want this,” I finally said when the silence became too uncomfortable.

  “What did you want?” John asked in that cold tone.

  “You know the answer to that. I was hoping to just grab you and bring you home…” I shrugged. “That didn’t work out so well.”

  “Instead you’ve thrown all of Fey into a tailspin,” John said. We went back into the living room. John went to the elaborate liquor cabinet. “Anyone want a drink?”

  Both Parlan and I nodded. He handed out brandy. I settled on the white leather sofa, squeezed a pillow against my aching ribs with an elbow, and rolled the snifter between my palms. The cut on my shoulder was stinging, and I hated that my beautiful coat had gotten torn. I pinned John with a hard look.

  “So, are you staying or are you going?”

  John spread his arms. “I am yours to command.” The mocking, nasty tone was back.

  “Oh, cut the crap. If I am in charge I can tell you that you can do whatever the hell you want. Stay. Leave. Whatever. It’s up to you if you want to keep living like a mushroom while dressed up like the dictator of some tinpot banana republic.”

  My tone rocked John back a bit. He covered by taking a sip of his brandy. Parlan gave me a faintly hurt look. “You think our attire is silly?”

  “Very.”

  “Oh.” He plucked at the lace at his cuff and frowned.

  “I don’t want to stay here,” John said. Parlan gave his sort-of-brother an incredulous look.

  And that’s when the solution came to me. I looked at Parlan. “But you do want to stay here, right?”

  “Yes. It’s my home.”

  “And am I totally in charge here?”

  Parlan nodded. “Yes.”

  “I can do anything I want?”

  “Within reason. If you did something too outlandish the council would … well, they might intervene.”

  John gave a snort. “It would have to be pretty damn outlandish.”

  I looked from Parlan to John and back again. “All righty then. Parlan, I’m making you regent … or prime minister or something. I’ll draw up a power of attorney that puts you in charge, something you can wave at people. And it’s time, probably past time, we started to get a little full faith and credit going between our world and Fey.” I glanced at John and decided not to say what I had been going to say in front of him. “And could I talk to you privately, Parlan?”

  He nodded and we went into the kitchen of the elaborate suite. We realized that the abrupt decampment had extended to here as well. There was a half-chopped carrot on a cutting board, a skillet with half-melted butter on the stove. Parlan looked around. “Well, I’m going to need new servants.”

  “Just make sure you pay them and don’t enthrall them.”

  “You know me better than that, Linnet. And besides, I cannot throw a glamour.”

  “Well, speaking of that. You made a study of Álfar magic. I need you to use your authority and new position to find somebody who knows how to take the spell off John. Get that damn ice splinter out of his eye.”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay.” I held out my hand. We shook on it, and Parlan threw his arms around me and gave me a quick hug.

  “You’ll explain to Red and Meg? Though they probably won’t care with John back.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. And I hope you’ll visit them. You’ve got a second family now. That’s not a bad thing.”

  He seemed struck by that. “No, you’re right, it’s not. May I be magnanimous to my mother?”

  “I’d think less of you if you weren’t. But don’t forget. You’re in charge now.”

  “I won’t.”

  We returned to the living room, and I crossed to John. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

  * * *

  Since John was a real Álfar we didn’t need any help getting home. I braced to be hassled by the Dakota guards, but everyone gave us a wide berth. Maybe it was the torn and bloody coat and shirt I wore, or the fact they were still in shock over discovering the world was not what it seemed. A tow truck was hooking up the crumpled van. It took some fast talking, but the tow truck guy agreed to just take som
e money for his time and let me drive the van out of the courtyard.

  “Have I still got an apartment?” John asked as we drove.

  “Yeah. It was rent controlled so I didn’t want to let it go. I’ve been subletting it to a student at NYU. I told him he had to move out.”

  “You were that confident.”

  I bowed my head and considered that for a moment. “I suppose I was. The things that have happened over the past few months have given me … well, let’s just say the sense I can do more than I thought I could.”

  “So why are we going to your apartment?”

  “I thought you might like to get your cat.”

  “You took him in?”

  “Of course.”

  There was a parking space on the street right in front of the building’s door. I had seen this happen with John over and over again so I had to assume it was some weird Álfar power that he didn’t even know he was using. My building didn’t have an elevator, and I kept having to stop at each landing to breathe and give my ribs a rest. I really hoped the universe would give me a chance to heal before it threw some other weird crap at me.

  I unlocked the door and we stepped inside. Gadzooks was curled up sleeping on the sofa. The golden eyes opened, and he blinked at me, then the ginger cat spotted John, gave a yowl like a boiling tea kettle, and launched himself into the air. He hit John’s chest, and John instinctively caught him. For the briefest moment there was a flicker of reaction on the frozen face.

  He ran his fingers through the thick fur on Gadzooks’s back then set the cat aside. Suddenly uncomfortable, I gave him a quick grin. “Look, I’m sore and dirty. I’m going to soak in hot water for a little while. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” I headed for the bedroom door. “Oh, and I kept some clothes here for you. If you want to change.”

  “Oh yes, I want to change.” There was something in the way he said it that made me wonder if it referred to more than just clothing.

  “Your folks came and packed up most of your personal items and took them back to Philly.”

  “I wonder if they’d ship them to me,” John mused.

  “You need to go down and get them and see your folks.”

  “I suppose it can’t be avoided.”

  I found the reluctance to see his family disturbing, but I didn’t want to argue about it right then. I retreated to the bathroom and emerged forty minutes later wrapped in a heavy fluffy robe and with the skin on my fingers and toes completely wrinkled from the long bath. John had changed into blue jeans and a turtleneck sweater. He lounged on the sofa with Gadzooks purring on his chest. The smell of freshly brewed coffee twined through the apartment. I poured myself a cup and settled in the armchair across from John. We stared at each other for a long time.

  With a sigh he set aside the cat, who evinced his displeasure. John leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. Eventually he looked up. I searched his features for some hint of emotion and didn’t find much.

  “I remember the things we did together.” I blushed as I remembered that one night of amazing sex we had shared. “Objectively I know I had feelings for you. I just want you to understand that—”

  “You don’t have those feelings any longer. Yeah, I know.” I hoped it came out as matter-of-fact and not whiney.

  “It’s not just you. I don’t have any feelings. Well, that’s not quite true. I’ve got this low level of pissed off going all the time.”

  “Maybe because you were violated in a really fundamental way,” I said softly.

  He stood and crossed to me. Stared down into my face. Gadzooks wound through his legs purring and meowing. Something flickered in his good eye, and he tentatively started to reach out.

  There was a fierce hammering on my front door. I jumped and John yanked back his hand. The brief flash of warmth was gone. I hurried to the door and used the peephole. David was standing in the hall. I had a momentary flare of cowardice, a desire to pretend I wasn’t home, but I pushed it aside and undid the chain and the lock.

  “You did it anyway!” he snapped as he pushed past me and entered the apartment. “And you didn’t tell me.”

  He grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a shake. It hurt my cut and I cried out. Also, deep in my chest something seemed to turn over, sit up, and take notice. All of it was terrifying.

  “Didn’t take me—” He broke off abruptly when he saw John, released, me and stepped back very carefully.

  I stood between them, tension crackling through the room. David visibly pulled himself together. “Ah, Mr. O’Shea. Welcome back.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Will you be returning to work?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Well, I can’t stay. Do you need a ride home?” he asked John.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  David inclined his head to me. “Linnet.”

  John gathered up Gadzooks, and then they were gone. The only sound was the old cast-iron heater on the wall slowly pinging as it sighed into silence.

  I was alone. Aside from my increasingly self-aware little super power.

  On tomorrow’s calendar—quit my job, call about a friend in the hospital. It was not going to be a pleasant day.

  6

  “I need you to become the attorney of record on my cases,” I said as I pulled out the paperwork that would accomplish that task. Caroline and I were at the Seventy-second Street Gourmet Deli having breakfast at seven-thirty a.m.

  She tossed her long blond hair back over her shoulder and frowned at me. “Why? What is going on, Linnet?”

  “I’m resigning from the firm today, and I’m not going to be giving notice. The letter goes in and I go out.”

  “Why? What’s happened?” Caroline demanded.

  “Nothing—”

  “Oh bullshit! You don’t walk out of a White Fang law firm giving no notice on a whim.”

  “It’s personal, and hard to explain. I just have to have everything in order so I can get out. Now.” Tears stung my grit-filled eyes.

  It had been a long night. After John and David left I had called Meg and Red and reported that we’d succeeded. Meg had wanted to know when John was coming to see them. I mouthed the usual polite lie that I was sure he’d come to visit real soon even though I had no idea if that was true or not.

  I then sat down in front of my laptop and tried to draft my letter of resignation. I’d type a line, then stand and pace, trying to figure out some way to stay at the firm. Eventually the letter had been completed, but I resisted printing and signing it until nearly four a.m. Ultimately reality smacked me in the face. There was no way out of this. I had to leave the firm for both David’s and my own sake. Add to that worry over Jolly, and the insanity of a female vampire, and the unsatisfying way that John and I had parted, and I just gave up on trying to sleep.

  A waiter who looked as tired and surly as I felt dumped our bagels in front of us and slouched away. I picked mine up, watched the cream cheese ooze out the sides, put it back down on the plate, and pushed it away.

  “Is it because of John?”

  “How do you know—”

  “He came in late yesterday afternoon. Some of us talked to him. He’s … changed.”

  “Yeah,” I said bleakly.

  “Is that why? Because you can’t bear to be around him with him so … different,” Caroline said softly as if fearful the words themselves could hit me physically.

  This romantic explanation seemed totally out of character for the poised woman and I goggled at her. “No, it’s not that,” I said.

  “Then what?” She slammed her fists down on the table.

  I reached out and touched one clenched hand. “Be my friend. Trust and accept that this is something that I have to do.”

  Caroline looked like she was about to cry, which really knocked me off balance. “I thought we were going to leave together and form the Two Tough Bitches Law Firm,” she said.

  “Caro, you’re a brilliant lawyer. You
belong in a top-flight firm.”

  “Like you haven’t had some huge wins,” she said pointedly.

  “Yeah, but you win with panache. Me, I blunder into victory after causing the maximum amount of uproar.” I cocked my head and considered that. “Hell, the senior partners may be glad to see me go. I know Gold will.”

  * * *

  Shade was not happy to see me go. He held my letter of resignation as if it were coated with anthrax. Not that anthrax would have hurt him. “Dearest Linnet, why? Have you been unhappy here? Have we not treated you well?”

  His tone and expression indicated he was honestly upset. Some of that might have been because he actually liked me, but it was more likely he was worried about his standing with the other senior partners. Shade had hired me. He had been my protector when I had become a chaos magnet and all kinds of weird shit had happened all around me and to me. Now, after a mere ten months on the job, I was quitting. It looked bad and called into question his judgment, but I couldn’t help that.

  “No, it’s nothing like that.”

  “Is it because of Ryan? Does that still affect you? We can transfer him. Perhaps to the LA office.”

  Ryan was a junior partner and a vampire who had been playing dangerous sex games with the female associates. The other partners had turned a blind eye, and no woman was willing to warn a newcomer. I had broken the pattern and gone public, resulting in Ryan getting demoted down to the human floor.

  What was starting to really irritate me was that everyone I had told of my decision assumed it was because of the actions of some male. To be fair, my decision was because of the actions of a male, but so far (mercifully) no one had hit upon the correct male.

  “Oh, God, no. I never think about Ryan.”

  “Then why, Linnet?” Shade asked, and he no longer sounded so kind and concerned.

  I couldn’t give Shade any hint of what was really behind my decision. “I just feel like corporate law isn’t where I want to be,” I said, feeling that was safe and nicely vague.

  “So you’re thinking public defender? DA?” Shade asked.

  “I haven’t gotten that far. I just feel like I need something a little more … down to earth? Working with people whose bank accounts don’t extend to buying small countries. Does that make any sense?”