Chimes at Midnight

“Much as I hate to add to the size of our company, he has a valid point,” said Tybalt. “I would gladly take a bullet for you. I would even more gladly stand behind a man of living stone and allow him to take the bullet for the both of us.”

“This is macho bullcrap,” I said sourly. It wasn’t—it actually made sense—but I didn’t care. I hated the idea of needing protection.

“So is getting yourself killed to prove that you’re still unkillable,” said Danny. “I ain’t taking you to your car, and that’s final. Now what in Maeve’s name happened?”

The fact that he’d managed to go this long without asking was something of a miracle all by itself. I took a breath, and began, “We found a dead changeling girl lying in an alley . . .”

It took most of the drive for me to explain what had happened since we found the dead girl in the alley, especially since I kept having to pause to give Danny directions. Tybalt interjected when necessary, mostly to make dire predictions about the Queen’s reign and Sylvester’s future health. I didn’t ask him to stop threatening my liege. Maybe I should have, but Sylvester should have known what he was getting into when he barred my Cait Sidhe boyfriend from my bedside. In the future, he might think twice before doing something that stupid.

Silence fell over the car when we were done. Danny kept driving, his brows knitting into a rocky shelf above his eyes. Finally, he took a breath, and passed judgment:

“Damn.”

“I know.”

“I mean, seriously . . . damn.”

“Yeah.”

“When you decide it’s time to up the ante on getting into deep shit, you don’t mess around, do you? You’re just like, hey, what’s the worst that can happen? That’s the worst that can happen? Great. Let’s do that.”

“That’s not fair,” I protested.

“Says the more-mortal-than-not girl with the goblin fruit addiction she got from being hit in the face with a pie,” Danny shot back. “You sure that chick from Dreamer’s Glass hasn’t been playing with your luck again?”

“I’m sure,” I said. My stomach grumbled. I dug the baggie of blood gems out of my pocket as I added, “There haven’t been enough disembowelments. Li Qin’s luck manipulation really focused on getting me disemboweled.” Trying to hide the motion as much as I could, I pulled one of the larger stones out of the bag and popped it into my mouth, where it dissolved into the taste of lavender and mint. My stomach stopped growling.

Thank Oberon.

“Yeah, well, there’s not going to be any of that while I’m with you,” said Danny, pulling the cab to an abrupt stop in front of the bookstore that housed the Library of Stars. “Disembowelment is pretty fatal, and I don’t like fatal. We’re here.”

“I see that.” I opened the door. “You want to come in?”

“Nah.” Danny shook his head. “I don’t like leaving the cab unguarded, and from what you were sayin’, the Queen’s guards might try to mess with it if I did. I’ll wait. Take your time, I got a book.”

“We will be respectful of your time,” said Tybalt—as close to a thank you as he could really get. He slid out of his seat more quickly than my too-human eyes could follow, moving to offer me his hand. “Come, little fish. Knowledge awaits us.”

“Yippee,” I said dryly, letting him pull me from the cab. “Back soon, Danny.”

“I’ll be here,” said the cabbie.

Knowing that he had my back was even more reassuring than I would have guessed. Feeling almost relaxed for the first time in a while, I kept hold of Tybalt’s hand as we walked into the dusty bookstore. When we approached the point where the entrance to the Library of Stars was hidden, he swept me smoothly off my feet and into his arms. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting him carry me through the door I couldn’t see.

“I hate this,” I muttered, as softly as I could.

His lips brushed my ear. “I know,” he murmured, and set me back on my feet.

I sighed and opened my eyes, sticking close as we walked through the darkened stacks to the small open space where Mags and Quentin had been when we left. I could hear voices before we got there, one male, one female.

“—not that anyone’s found.” Mags. She sounded frustrated. This argument, if that was what it was, had clearly been going on for a while. “I’ve pulled out all the books, I’ve even pulled out books where the footnotes might have been relevant, and there’s nothing. No one has ever found a treatment for goblin fruit addiction in humans. No one has really even looked.”

“Merlins, then. Or Selkies. They’re both almost human, and they’re both powerful enough to do their own research.” Quentin. He didn’t sound frustrated. He sounded angry, and determined—and yes, a little bit scared. If I hadn’t known him for so long, I wouldn’t have been able to hear that part. “Maybe they know something.”

“The merlins don’t have any answers,” said Mags. “You’re grasping at straws.”