I hoped he’d called Eric and my great-grandfather.

That was a lot of hoping. As long as I was in the wishful-thinking zone, I wished that Eric was tuned in to my very great distress and my very real fear. Could he track me by my emotions? That would be wonderful, because I was certainly full of them. This was the worst fix I’d ever been in. Years ago, when Bill and I had exchanged blood, he’d told me he’d be able to find me. I hoped he’d been telling the truth, and I hoped that ability hadn’t faded with time. I was willing to be saved by just about anybody. Soon.

Kidnapper One slid his hands under my armpits and yanked me to a sitting position. For the first time, I realized my hands were numb. I looked down to see they were tied with a strip of leather. Now I was propped up against a wall, and I could see I was not actually in a cave. We were in an abandoned house. There was a hole in the roof, and I could see stars through it. The smell of mildew was strong, almost choking, and under it trailed the scents of rotting wood and wallpaper. There was nothing in the room but my purse, which had been tossed into a corner, and an old framed photograph, which hung crookedly on the wall behind the two fairies. The picture had been taken outside, probably in the nineteen twenties or thirties, and it was of a black family dressed up for their picture-taking adventure. They looked like a farming family. At least I was still in my own world, I figured, though probably not for long.

While I could, I smiled at Thing One and Thing Two. “My great-grandfather is going to kill you,” I said. I even managed to sound pretty happy about that. “You just wait.”

One laughed, tossing his black hair behind him in a male modelly gesture. “He’ll never find us. He’ll yield and step down rather than see you killed in a slow and painful way. He loooooves humans.”

Two said, “He should have gone to the Summerland long ago. Consorting with humans will kill us off even faster than we are dying already. Breandan will seal us off. We’ll be safe. Niall is out of date.”

Like he’d expired on the shelves or something.

“Tell me you have a boss,” I said. “Tell me you’re not the brains of the operation.” I was sort of aware that I was seriously addled, probably as a result of the spell that had knocked me out, but knowing I wasn’t myself didn’t seem to stop me talking, which was a pity.

“We owe allegiance to Breandan,” One said proudly, as if that would make everything clear to me.