“In the Serengeti, Ms. Lane, I would be the cheetah. I’m stronger, smarter, faster, and hungrier than everything else out there. And I don’t apologize to the gazelle when I take it down.”

Sighing, I moved for the bike but he turned left. “We’re walking?” I was surprised.

“For a few hours. I want a look at the city, then we’ll come back for a car.”

Unseelie were everywhere in the damp, cobbled streets. The ever-increasing crime rate didn’t seem to be keeping anyone at home. The juxtaposition of the two worlds—carefree humans, some half drunk, others only beginning their night on the town, laughing and talking, mingling with the predatory, grimly focused Unseelie draped loosely in glamour that I now had to work to see, as opposed to having to work to see past—painted the night with the slick menace of a traveling carnival.

There were Rhino-boys, and those creepy-looking street vendors with the huge eyes and no mouths; there were winged things, and things that scampered. Some were in high glamour, walking down the sidewalk with human companions. Others perched on buildings, birds of prey, selecting a kill. I half-expected one of them to recognize us, sound the alarm, and descend in force.

“They’re self-serving,” Barrons said, when I mentioned it. “They obey a master as long as he’s in their face. But an Unseelie’s true master is its hunger, and this city is a banquet. They’ve been trapped for hundreds of thousands of years. There is little left of them but hunger at this point. It’s consuming to feel so empty, so . . . hollow. It blinds them to all else.”

I looked at him sharply. He’d sounded strange there at the end, almost as if he felt . . . sorry for them.

“When did you last kill one of them, Ms. Lane?” he said suddenly.

“Yesterday.”

“Was there trouble you didn’t tell me about?”

“No. I just cut him up for parts.”

“What?” Barrons stopped and looked down at me.

I shrugged. “A woman died the other day. She wouldn’t have, if I’d had it handy. I won’t make that mistake again.” I was secure in my conviction that I was doing the right thing.

“The woman in my store?” When I nodded, he said, “And just where are you keeping these . . . parts, Ms. Lane?”

“In my purse.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

”I think I just said I did,” I said coolly.

“You do realize if you eat it again, you won’t be able to sense the one thing we need?”

“I’ve got it under control, Barrons.” I hadn’t even looked at the jars since lunch.

“One never has an addiction under control. If you eat it again, I will personally kick your ass. Got it?”