Life is not black and white. The closest we ever get to either of those colors is wearing them.

I got dressed, went downstairs, and opened my store for business.

It was a busy day. A little rainy but not too bad.

I found the cell phone Mallucé had dumped in the alley when he’d abducted me lying on the counter next to the cash register, beside my boots, jacket, and purse; Barrons must have gone searching for me and found them. It had two bars so I plugged it in to recharge it; I don’t take my cell phone responsibilities lightly anymore. I will forever be haunted by the reminder of one floating in a sky blue swimming pool, and the spoiled young woman I used to be.

I threw the boots and jacket in the Dumpster out back, along with everything else I’d been wearing during my interment beneath the Burren. Mallucé had touched them; they stank of him and I would never wear them again.

The cuff was not on the counter.

I smiled faintly. Barrons knew I’d figured out from Mallucé’s little slip that he’d had some other way to find me. Good. He didn’t underestimate me. He shouldn’t.

I’d had nearly sixty customers by four o’clock.

I was about to flip the sign for a bathroom break when I sensed someone, or something, outside my front door.

Fae—but not Fae!

I stiffened.

The cherry-framed, diamond-paned door moved, the bell above it tinkled.

Derek O’Bannion stepped in, dripping aggression and arrogance. I wondered how I’d ever found him attractive. He wasn’t darkly handsome; he was swarthy. His movements weren’t macho; they were saurian. He gave me that sharp-bladed smile and I saw my death waiting on those ivory knives.

I knew what he was feeling. I’d been there recently myself. He was pumped up on Unseelie.

I was getting better at putting things together; my deductive reasoning skills had improved a hundredfold since I’d stepped off that plane from the States.

Facts: Derek O’Bannion is not a sidhe-seer. He can’t see the Unseelie. If you can’t see the Unseelie, you can’t eat the Unseelie. Which means that if a human who is not a sidhe-seer shows up, pumped up on Unseelie, someone who can see the Unseelie must have fed it to that person, deliberately opening their eyes to a whole new dark realm, like the Lord Master did with Mallucé. A normal human can’t choose to be turned into a hybrid; he or she must be made into it, initiated into the dark rite by someone in the see and know.

“Get out of my store,” I said coldly.

“Got a lot o’ balls for a walking dead woman.”

“Who fed it to you? Red robe? Pretty boy? Did he tell you about Mallucé?”

“Mallucé was a fool. I’m not.”

“Did he tell you Mallucé rotted from the inside out?”

“He told me you killed mybrother and that you have something that belongs to me. He sent me for it.”

“He sent you to die, then. The thing he sent you for is the one thing capable of killing Unseelie—which parts of you are now—which is how and why Mallucé rotted from the inside out. I stabbed him with it.” I smiled. “Did your new friend tell you that? You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” Had I just sounded exactly like Barrons? Had I just said something to the mobster’s brother Barrons had said to me when I’d first begun pushing my way into the realm of the Fae? Please tell me my mentor wasn’t rubbing off on me. Please tell me we don’t grow up and turn into the adults that drive us crazy.

I slipped the spear from my shoulder holster and slammed it, point first, into the counter. It quivered in the wood, shimmering with alabaster light, nearly white. “Go ahead, O’Bannion, come and get it. I’m fed up with jack-petunias like you and would like nothing more than to watch you rot, slowly and painfully. I know you’re all juiced up on your new powers right now, but you should know that I’m way more than just a pretty face. I’m a sidhe-seer and I have a few kick-ass powers of my own. There’s no way you can stop me from stabbing you with this if you get within a dozen feet of me. So, if you don’t mind rotting from the inside out—did I mention that his dick went before his mind did?—step one inch further inside my store.”

Indecision flickered in those cold reptilian eyes.

“Your brother didn’t see me as a threat. Your brother’s dead. So are fifteen of his henchmen. Think about that. Think hard.”

He stared at the spear, glowing with its soft, unnatural luminescence. Rocky hadn’t known anything about the dark forces around him. Derek had been recently awakened to it, and wouldn’t make the same mistakes. I could see it in his face. This O’Bannion wouldn’t rush blindly to his death. He would retreat now. His withdrawal would only be temporary. He would regroup and return, even more dangerous than before.

“This isn’t over,” he said. “It won’t be over until you’re dead.”

“Until one of us is,” I agreed. “Get out.” I pulled the spear from the counter, fisted my hand around the hilt.

I should have let him walk into the Dark Zone that day. Instead, out of guilt for past sins, I’d saved his life. What an idiot I’d been.

I stared at the door after he was gone. My heart rate hadn’t even accelerated. I flipped the sign, went to the bathroom, then reopened for business.

Barrons didn’t show up Monday night or Tuesday. Wednesday came and went with no sign of him. By Thursday evening it had been five days since I’d seen him, longer than he’d ever stayed away before.