Big Mac. It was like a fist to my heart. Alina had called me Baby Mac. Sometimes Junior. I’d called her Big Mac. It was an inside joke with us. “Why’d you call me that?”

“Movies. American stuff. McDonald’s. You know.”

“Don’t call me Big Mac and I won’t call you … Danielle.” I took a guess and knew by her instant sour look I’d guessed right. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Where’s my spear?”

She stiffened again, glanced around again, and dropped her voice even further. “Don’t know,” she said softly. “But we picked it up that day at the church. Kat brought it back. Hasn’t been seen since. I kinda thought she’d arm one of us with it. She hasn’t.”

My lips thinned. I knew why. Rowena was carrying it herself.

“I think so, too,” Dani said, and I looked at her sharply. “Nah, I just know the way you think. We’re alike that way. We see things the way they are, not the way folks want us to believe they are or how we wish they were.”

“Where is the old witch?”

Dani gave me a glum look. “Right now?”

I nodded.

“Behind you.”

I whirled, bringing my gun up sharp and hard. And there it was: my biggest, most disconcerting shock of the day. Far more shocking than expanding Dark Zones, sky battles, and Interdimensional Fairy Potholes.

There stood Rowena, decked out in high Grand Mistress garb—the robes of the order that had been founded for the express purpose of hunting and killing Fae—arm in arm with a Fae. The Fae that had just sifted her in behind me.

It was no wonder Dani had been looking around nervously.

And no wonder V’lane had known my spear was at the abbey.

He was at the abbey.

All cozy with Rowena. Sifting her around, apparently.

I lowered my gun and glared at V’lane. “Is this a joke? Do you think this is funny? Why didn’t you just sift me here to begin with, if you were coming this way?”

Rowena’s nose could have pointed more skyward only if she’d been lying on her back. “As the spear is no longer your possession, nor is this Fae Prince. He has seen the light you fail to see. He aids all sidhe-seers now, not just one.”

Oh, really? We’d see about that. Both the spear and the prince. “I was talking to V’lane, old woman, not you.”

“He doesn’t answer to you.”

“Really?” I laughed. “You think he answers to you?” Only a fool would think a Fae Prince answered to anyone. Especially when one needed one.

“Are you fighting over me, MacKayla? I find this … attractive.” V’lane tossed his golden head. “I have seen this in humans before. It is called jealousy.”

“If that’s what you think, you have a problem interpreting subtle human emotions. It’s not called jealousy. It’s called ‘you’re pissing me off.’”

“Possessiveness.”

“My ass.”

“Is far more shapely than last I saw it.”

“She’s been working out.” Dani snickered.

“You have no business looking at it,” I said.

“But Barrons does?” The temperature in the room dropped sharply.

My breath frosted the air. “We are not talking about Barrons.” We were never going to talk about Barrons.

“I’d like to talk about Barrons,” said Dani.

“You chose,” V’lane said coldly.

“I chose nothing. I was out of my mind. Is that what this is about, V’lane? Barrons? You sound jealous. Possessive.”

“He does,” Dani agreed.

“Haud your whist!” Rowena snapped. “The lot of you! For the love of Mary, can you not see the world is falling apart around you, yet you stand here, bickering like children? You”—she stabbed a finger at me—“a sidhe-seer, and you”—she actually poked V’lane in the arm, and he looked startled that she’d done it—“a Fae Prince!” She glowered at Dani. “And don’t even get me started on you. You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing to bruise yourself so badly? I’m Grand Mistress, not grand fool. Enough, all of you!”

“Haud your whist yourself, old woman,” I told her flatly. “I’ll bicker while the world falls apart if I feel like it. I’ve done more good and less damage than you. Who had the Sinsar Dubh to begin with—and lost it?”

“Don’t be pushing your nose into doings you can’t begin to understand, girl!”