“Bull-crikey.”

“I’ll never get laid trying to keep you safe. You’re a train wreck on steroids.”

“Am not.” Usually I’m cooler than cool. It’s been a rough couple of days. “So, like, if you get it, you’re going to give it back to me right now this very instant?”

“Didn’t I just say so? Go hide somewhere and shut up, kid.”

The Mega doesn’t hide. “My ass.”

“Can’t possibly be worth what he thinks.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about but it doesn’t have anything to do with me so I dismiss it.

I freeze-frame back toward Jayne the second he lets go of my arm. This time he’s not expecting it because he thinks I’ll just wait around like a wuss for somebody else to get my sword. Not. I snicker when I hear him cursing behind me.

Then I slam into Christian halfway up the stairs to the warehouse, blocking my way to Jayne.

Then Lor has me again and I kind of melt over his shoulder because the death-by-sex Fae punch Christian’s packing is doing funny things to me, but it fades as soon as we get away from him, so I bite Lor because I hate being carried around like a sack of potatoes. If he feels it, he has no reaction.

“Stay the fuck away from the Unseelie princes.”

“I’m just trying to get my sword. He got in the way.”

“I said I’ll get it for you.”

“I want to get it myself!” I want to look Jayne in the eyes when I take it from him. He left me to die like a dog in the street. No mercy. Not one drop.

Lor dumps me and shoves me up against a wall. “Fade, Kasteo, get over here and keep her out of my fucking hair.”

Then I’ve got two of his dudes on me, one on each arm, and I freeze-frame or try to but they weigh so much I end up buzzing around in drunken circles like a bug dying on its back because I can’t get all four of their feet off the ground at the same time. One or the other keeps digging a heel in. We slam into the wall then stumble all over each other and the whole time I’m trying to watch what’s going on with Jayne and the sword. “Let go of me!”

They don’t. In fact, they don’t even acknowledge that I’m speaking, much less breathing. They hang on my arms like deadweights and eventually I wise up enough to stop trying. Exercises in futility aren’t me. They could hold me till I run my gas tank out and there I’d be. A noodle, and somebody would no doubt fecking toss me over his shoulder again and tote me around rather than give me a candy bar.

After a few minutes I end up standing there, pissed as all get-out, just watching.

And that’s how I have a front row seat when the real circus begins.

The two original Unseelie princes keep sifting in, trying to get close to Jayne. Each time they do, Lor or one of his men is there, blocking their way.

Christian keeps trying to get to Jayne, too, and I realize he can’t sift yet. He’s moving at just under full sift mode. Still, he’s faster than me. Fecker. Lately, seems everybody is.

Jayne is spinning in a circle with my sword out in front of him, trying to keep everyone from taking it.

The Guardians are spinning in circles, pointing their guns, trying to get a fix on something. Good luck with that. They can’t even see anything that’s happening, just feel the wind of everyone freeze-framing past them.

The hundreds of caged Unseelie are grunting and howling, stomping and rattling bars and making a deafening noise, and there’s some kind of Unseelie in there that starts making a sound I’ve never heard before. It’s enormous and dissonant and it sets my teeth on edge, crawls under my skin and makes me want to crawl right out of it. I’m not the only one it bothers.

“What the hell is making that noise?” Fade snarls.

“I know, right?” I want to cover my ears but they’ve got my arms so I clench my teeth and begin to hum real loud instead.

An Unseelie prince materializes in the middle of the whole shebang, Lor pops in directly in front of him, they smash into each other and careen off, then go slamming into a half-dozen Guardians who slam into Jayne, and all the sudden everyone is stumbling off the edge of the dock.

When Jayne falls, my sword goes flying straight up in the air, end over end, an alabaster column of light. I close my fingers like I’m catching it.

It’s there, right there for the taking! I can almost feel the perfect weight of it slapping into my palm.

“Let go of me!” I nearly yank my arms out of my sockets but they don’t let go. I’m forced to stand there and watch as the princes, Lor, a dozen Guardians, and the latest intended Unseelie victim all try to position themselves to catch my sword when it comes down. One of the princes tries to spread his wings but the quarters are too close and he can’t lift off. The other sifts into the air, and Lor lunges in a totally inhuman way and they collide in midair with my sword still going up.