“I always wanted to go out in a big way,” I say. “Maybe we could do some fireworks, huh? I think there are some left up at that old petrol station on O’Clare.”
“Nobody’s executing anyone,” Jo says. “She’s a child.”
“I’m not a fecking child. I don’t think I was even born that way.”
“I told them I believe you can be useful,” Ryodan says. “That I can control you.”
I bristle and rattle my chains. Nobody controls me. Not anymore.
“They say you’ll never answer to anyone. Not even Barrons is on my side.”
No doubt because TP was telling Barrons to tell Ryodan to kill me. Or let her do it.
“It’s eight against one,” he says.
“It’s eight against two,” Jo says. “If you count her sister sidhe-seers—and you’d better—it’s eight against thousands.”
“Your numbers have been severely diminished,” Ryodan says.
“Worldwide, we’re over twenty thousand.”
“I didn’t know that,” I say to Jo. “Why didn’t I know that?” To Ryodan, I say, “Dude, kill me or free me.”
“If you kill her,” Jo says, “you’ll incur the wrath of every sidhe-seer in the world. They’ll hunt you. Dani’s a legend among us. We won’t lose her.”
“If I decide to kill her,” Ryodan says, “no one will ever know what happened to either of you.”
I blink, mentally replaying what Jo said again and again, but I can’t hear it enough. “Really? I’m a legend? Like, around the whole world they know of me? Say it again!” I preen. I had no idea. There might be a little swagger left in my body after all. I cock a jaunty hip.
“Let her go,” Jo says to Ryodan, “and I’ll stay in her place.”
“The feck you’ll stay!” I explode.
“You’re offering to stay here. Chained up. With me. In exchange for her.” A smile plays at his lips.
“As long as you have me as a hostage, she’ll behave.”
“The feck you’ll stay!” I say again since nobody reacted like they were supposed to, like, by obeying me. Or paying any attention to me at all.
“I haven’t forgotten what you did to my cell phone, sidhe-seer,” Ryodan says.
“You were taking pictures on our property. It’s private,” Jo says.
“You’re on my property. It’s private.”
“I’m not taking pictures. I came to take back something that’s ours. Something you had no right to take.”
“I’m not a something. Or a child,” I say.
“She had no right to kill the patrons of my club. She’d been warned. Repeatedly.”
“And you know how well she listens. You shouldn’t have brought her into your club and left her alone with a sword. Could you possibly be that stupid?”
“Dudes, quit talking about me like I’m not here!”
“Sidhe-seer, tread lightly,” he says to Jo, and his voice goes real soft. Soft from Ryodan is never good.
“Let me stay in her place. She’s just a kid.”
“I’m not a kid! And she’s not fecking staying here. Nobody’s staying here! Except maybe me!”
“You do understand what it would mean,” he says to Jo, like I’m not even having a violent, noisy fight with a wall and four chains. “If she makes a single misstep, you’re dead.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. I always misstep. Misstep is my middle name, right after Mega. I can’t not misstep. I have feet.
“I understand.”
“She doesn’t mean it!” I shout. “She doesn’t even know what she’s talking about! She doesn’t have any clue what you dudes are really like. Besides, I don’t really even care about her at all. You can kill her. So, you may as well let her go.”
“Shut up, Dani,” Jo says.
“You’ll have to sign an employment application,” Ryodan tells Jo.
“Don’t sign it, Jo! He’s got some kind of spell on it.”
“Am I being held hostage or applying for a job?” Jo says.
“I’m short a few waitresses. Some of them were—” Ryodan gives me a look. “—collateral damage the other day.”
“I didn’t kill any humans.”
“Two of them had enough Unseelie in them that apparently you couldn’t tell the difference,” Ryodan says.
I killed humans? How much Unseelie had they eaten?
“You want me to be a waitress?” Jo says, horrified, like it’s a fate worse than death. “I tried to wait tables in high school. I can’t. I drop plates. I spill drinks. I’m a researcher. A linguist. I live in my head. I don’t wait tables.”
“Conveniently, I have two applications handy.” Ryodan withdraws a folded packet of papers from his pocket.
“Why two? I ain’t waiting tables,” I say belligerently.
“I have to serve Fae? As in take orders and fill them? And bring things to their tables?” Jo can’t seem to wrap her brain around it. Like she’d rather stay chained to the wall than wait tables.
“And my men. Occasionally, I imagine, even me. With a smile.” He looks her up and down, slo-mo. “You’ll look good in the uniform. Do we have a deal.” In typical Ryodan fashion, his voice doesn’t rise at the end of the question. He knows they have a deal. He can read Jo like a book with see-through covers.
My chains rattle as I test them with everything I’ve got. He is not putting Jo to work in the kiddie subclub. She’s got the kind of face that’s so delicate and pretty that she can wear really short hair like she does and look totally hot. Even those stupid glasses she wears when she reads just make her look good because they make her bones seem even more dainty. She has something ethereal. She is not wearing a short plaid skirt, tight white blouse, socks, and baby doll heels. She will not be waiting on him and his men! Chester’s will swallow her up like a tasty morsel and spit out blood and gristle.
“No, Jo,” I say flatly. “Don’t you dare.”
“We have a deal,” Jo says.
He unchains Jo, hands her the “application” and a pen.