Great. Now they were uniting forces against me. I preferred V’lane disappearing when Barrons appeared. Did this mean V’lane wasn’t afraid of Barrons, after all? I eyed the space between them. If Barrons were to step forward, would V’lane step back? I could hardly suggest it. After a moment’s consideration, I moved out from beneath Barron’s arm, and stepped behind him. I felt him relax a little. I think he thought I was seeking the shelter of his body, using the movement to show that I’d chosen a side. I imagined he looked pretty self-satisfied right now.

I shoved him forward as hard as I could. V’lane glided instantly back.

Barrons jerked a furious look over his shoulder at me.

I smiled. I don’t think many women push Barrons around.

“What games are you playing, sidhe-seer?” V’lane hissed.

The Fae Prince feared Barrons. I tried to process that thought but I’m not sure I succeeded.

“Can you still feel the Book?” Barrons asked, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

“Yes, where has it gone?” demanded V’lane. “Which way?”

“You wasted too much time arguing,” I lied. I still had a faint tingle. It had stopped somewhere. “It passed beyond my radar a few minutes ago.” I wasn’t sure either of them believed me, but what could they do?

Actually, it occurred to me, they both could do something really nasty to me if they felt like it: Barrons could use Voice, force me to tell him the truth, and make me hunt it, and if I understood a death-by-sex Fae’s thrall, V’lane could amp up the sex thing and steer me around like a horny little divining rod.

So, why weren’t they? Because they really were decent guys with decent motives, albeit very screwed-up personalities? Or because they didn’t want each other around when they used me to track it, and neither could think of a way to get rid of the other at the moment?

Were we all letting it get away, to keep each other from getting it? Wow. I used to have a hard time with high school geometry. Life was way more complicated than math.

“Move,” Barrons said. “Get on the bike.”

I didn’t like his tone.

“Where will you go, Ms. Lane, if not with me or him? Back home to Ashford? Will you strike out on your own? Get a flat? Will your father have to come pack up after you, like you cleaned up after your sister?”

I turned and began walking. He followed me, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. “He’ll sift you,” he said in a low growl, “if you give him the chance.”