“How dare you come here? How dare you bring that thing in here?” demanded a pajama-clad sidhe-seer, stabbing a finger at V’lane. Another head popped into view behind her, nose heavily bandaged. I knew that woman. My fist had met her face earlier today. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, and narrowed on me with hostility.

When he stiffened, I placed a hand on his arm, careful to harbor no Nulling intent, in a show of solidarity I hoped would defuse his aggression.

The corridor was now filled with sidhe-seers in various stages of undress. Not because of V’lane, but because it was after midnight and I’d woken them. Apparently, he was proving true to his word. Not a single sidhe-seer was undressing. I didn’t feel the ghost of a sexual tingle. Nonetheless, they were all staring fixedly at him.

“I didn’t dare come here without Prince V’lane.” The use of his title pleased him; I felt muscle slide smoother beneath his skin. “Rowena sent six of you after me today.”

“I saw the ones that returned,” the pajama-clad woman snapped. She glanced over her shoulder at her bandaged roommate, then back at me, her gaze frigid. “Those that lived were badly beaten. There’s not a scratch on you. Not a single bruise.” She paused, then spat, “Pri-ya.”

“I am not Pri-ya!”

“You travel with a Fae Prince. You touch him freely, of your own accord. What else could you be?”

“Try a sidhe-seer who’s working with a Fae Prince in order to help Queen Aoibheal find the Sinsar Dubh so she can fix the mess we’re all in,” I said coolly. “V’lane approached me on the Seelie queen’s behalf, because I can sense the Book when it’s near. I’ve been—”

She gasped. “You can sense the Sinsar Dubh? Is it near? Have you seen it?”

Sidhe-seers up and down the corridor turned to each other, exclaiming.

“Can’t any of you sense it?” I glanced around. The faces turned toward me reflected astonishment. It mirrored my own. I’d thought surely there would be others like me. One or two, at least.

Dani shook her head. “The ability to sense Fae objects is extremely rare, Mac.”

Her roommate said stiffly, “The last sidhe-seer with that ability died a long time ago. We’ve not been successful at breeding those bloodlines.”

Breeding those bloodlines? The soft Irish lilt didn’t soften the words a bit. They were cold. Made me think of white coats and labs and petri dishes. It was no wonder I was so highly sought after. No wonder Barrons was so determined to keep me alive, and I had a Fae prince playing lapdog, and the Lord Master hadn’t yet launched a full-scale attack against me. They all needed me alive. I was Tigger. I was the only one.

“You killed Moira!” the woman in the door across the hall accused.