This realm burst at the seams with vibrant life, neighbors arguing in the middle of the sidewalk, joggers racing by early in the morning, and countless couples wandering into The Water’s Edge, so tangled with one another she couldn’t tell where one piece of their thread began and the other ended.

Well, you musta pissed in someone’s apple juice,” Trevor said, clapping a hand on Kieran’s shoulder. “Haven’t we all.” Kieran cast one look around this tragedy of a bar, consisting of overturned tables, pools of black blood from the two dead rakshasas, and a dead, slumped over bartender.

Hope you enjoy the show then, darling.” Heat flickered in his amber eyes, and his lowered voice made the implication quite clear. A shiver rolled down her spine, but as always she didn’t betray those impulses.

He looked so frustrated and perfectly serious, and yet here we were talking about his missing seal pelt.

So no going and getting yourself killed,” Kieran jumped in. With the way those fae targeted him last night, more would come. The memory of the bartender lingered—if they’d made one wrong move the victim could’ve been Liz. Liz rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m going to go toddle into traffic.

The stench of sweat, sex, and Chanel Number Five were never going to come out of Liz O’Brien’s jeans.

Jev was certain the words “should’ve known better” would go somewhere on her tombstone, but at the moment her focus shifted to the dozens of angry pixies honed in on her.

Trevor cast her a glance. “Politeness doesn’t cost a thing, even if I’m offering a hand to the devil herself.

Renn took a step in closer, a predatory gleam returning to his eyes. “Vigilante against the establishment and rich guy CEO with more connections than necessary? Bust out some fancy tech and you’re pretty much fae Batman.