*
We range out like a net. Five hundred strong. Drape ourselves, sidhe-seer by sidhe-seer, around the epicenter and close in tight. Nothing‘s getting through us unless it flies. Or sifts. Aw, crap! Or sifts. Some of the Fae can travel from place to place at the blink of a thought—just a hair faster than me, but I‘m working on that. I have a theory I been testing. Haven‘t worked out the kinks yet. The kinks are killer.
―Stop,‖ I hiss at Kat. ―Tell ?em all to stop!‖
She cuts a hard look my way but bites a sharp command that rips down the line. We‘re well trained. We move together and I tell her my worry: that Mac‘s in there, in serious trouble, and if the big-bads throwing off all that power are sifters—which most of the big-bads are—she‘ll be gone the second we‘re spotted.
Which means I‘m going in alone. I‘m the only one who can sneak-attack fast enough to pull it off.
―No way,‖ Kat says.
―No choice, and you know it.‖
We look at each other. She gets that look grown-ups get a lot and touches my hair. I jerk. I don‘t like to be touched. Grown-ups creep me out.
―Dani.‖ She pauses heavily.
I know that tone like I know the back of my hand, and I know where it‘s going: Lectureville on a runaway train. I roll my eyes. ―Save it for somebody who cares. Newsflash: It ain‘t me. I‘ll go up‖—I jerk my head at a nearby building—‖to get the lay of things. Then I‘m going in. Only. When I. Come. Back. Out.‖ I spit each word. ―Can you guys can go in.‖
We stare at each other. I know what she‘s thinking. Nah, reading minds isn‘t one of my specialties. Grown-ups telegraph everything. Somebody kill me before I get one of those PlayDoh faces. Kat‘s thinking if she makes the call against me and loses Mac, Ro‘ll have her head. But if she lets me make the call and things go bad, she can blame it on headstrong, uncontrollable Dani. I take the blame a lot. I don‘t care. I do what needs to be done.
“I’ll go up,‖ she says.
―I need the visual snapshot myself, or I could end up grabbing the wrong thing. You want me coming out with some fe—er, effin‘ fairy in my hands?‖ They rip me a new one when I cuss. Like I‘m a kid. Like I haven‘t spilled more blood than they‘ve ever seen. Old enough to kill but too young to cuss. They make a pit bull poodle around. What kinda logic is that? Hypocrisy pisses me off worse than most anything.
Her face sets in stubborn lines.
I push. ―I know Mac‘s in there and for some reason she can‘t get out. She‘s in major trouble.‖
Was she surrounded? Wounded that badly? Had she lost her spear? I didn‘t know. Only that she was in way deep shit.
―Rowena said alive or dead,‖ Kat says stiffly. She left ―It sounds like she‘ll be dead soon and our problems will be solved‖ hanging unspoken.
―We want the Book, remember?‖ I try reason. Times I think I‘m the only one in the whole abbey that‘s got any.
―We‘ll find it without her. She betrayed us.‖
Feck reason. Pisses me off when people jump to conclusions they have no proof for. ―You don‘t know that, so stop saying it,‖ I growl. Somebody‘s fist is holding Kat‘s coat collar, got her up on her toes. It‘s mine. I don‘t know who‘s more surprised, her or me. I drop her back on the ground and look away. I‘ve never done anything like that before. But it‘s Mac in there and I have to get her out, and Kat‘s wasting my time big-time with total BS.
Her mouth sets with tiny white lines around it, and her eyes take on a look I get a lot. It makes me feel mad and alone.
She‘s afraid of me.
Mac isn‘t. One more way we‘re like sisters.
Without another word, I give my feet the wings they live for and vanish into the building.