“I will not kill an innocent man.”

“You will or I will. And you know I have a habit of playing with my prey.”

“You would torture an innocent man to death.” It was not a question.

“Ah, you understand me. Your choices are simple: either you do it, or I do it. Choose.”

Circenn searched the fairy’s eyes. Don’t seek compassion, I have none was the message he read there. After a protracted moment, Circenn inclined his head. “I will take care of the bearer of the flask.”

“You will kill the bearer of the flask,” Adam insisted. “Or I will.”

Circenn’s voice was flat and furious. “I will kill the man who brings the flask. But it will be done my way. Painlessly and swiftly, and you will not interfere.”

“Good enough.” Adam took one step backward. “Swear it upon my race. Swear it upon the Tuatha de Danaan.”

“On one condition. In exchange for the vow I now give you, you will not darken my door again without invitation, Adam Black.”

“Are you certain that’s what you want?” Adam’s lips thinned with displeasure. Circenn had reverted to his arms-folded, furious stance. Such a glorious warrior, dark angel. You could have been my mightiest ally.

“That’s what I want.”

Adam inclined his dark head, a mocking smile playing at the corners of his lips. “So be it as you asked it, Brodie, son of the Brude kings. Now swear.”

To save a man from a painful death at the fairy’s hands, Circenn Brodie sank to his knees and pledged upon the oldest race in Scotland, the Tuatha de Danaan, that he would honor his vow to kill the man who arrived with the flask. Then he sighed with relief as Adam Black, the sin siriche du, the blackest elf, disappeared, never to darken Circenn’s door again because Circenn certainly wouldn’t extend an invitation, even if he lived a thousand years.

Up and down, up and down,

I will lead them up and down

I am feared in field and town.

Goblin lead them up and down.

—A Midsummer Night’s Dream/Shakespeare

PRESENT DAY

“HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!” LISA CRIED, AS the Mercedes zipped around an idling taxi and passed dangerously near the curb where she stood, splashing sheets of dirty water up her jeans-clad legs.

“Well, get out of the street, you idiot!” the driver of the Mercedes yelled into his cell phone. Lisa was close enough to hear him say into the phone, “No, not you. It looked like some homeless person. You’d think as much as we pay in taxes …” His voice faded as he drove off.

“I wasn’t in the street!” Lisa yelled after him, tugging her baseball cap lower on her head. Then his words sunk in. “Homeless?” Dear God, is that what I look like? She glanced down at her faded jeans, worn and frayed at the hems. Her white T-shirt, although clean, was soft and thin from hundreds of washings. Maybe her slicker had seen better days, a few years before she’d bought it at Second-hand Sadie’s, but it was durable and kept her dry. Her boot had a hole, but he couldn’t have seen that, it was in the sole. The chilly puddles from the recent rain seeped into her boot, soaking her sock. She wriggled uncomfortable toes and made a mental note to duct tape her boot again. But surely she didn’t look homeless? She was spotlessly clean, or at least she had been before he’d come whizzing by.

“You don’t look like a homeless person, Lisa.” Ruby’s indignant voice interrupted her thoughts. “He’s a pompous ass who thinks anybody not driving a Mercedes doesn’t deserve to live.”

Lisa flashed Ruby a grateful smile. Ruby was Lisa’s best friend. Every evening they chatted as they waited together for the express shuttle to the city, where Lisa went to her cleaning job and Ruby sang in a downtown club.

Lisa eyed Ruby’s outfit longingly. Beneath a dove-gray raincoat with classic lines she wore a stunning black dress adorned with a string of pearls. Strappy, sexy shoes displayed French-manicured toenails; shoes that would feed Lisa and her mom for a month. Not a man alive would let his car splash Ruby Lanoue. Once, Lisa might have looked like that, too. But not now, when she was so deeply in debt that she couldn’t fathom a way out.

“And I know he didn’t get a good look at your face.” Ruby wrinkled her nose, irritated with the long-gone driver. “If he had, he certainly would’ve stopped and apologized.”

“Because I look so depressed?” Lisa asked wryly.

“Because you’re so beautiful, honey.”

“Yeah. Right,” Lisa said, and if there was a trace of bitterness, Ruby tactfully ignored it. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone.”