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279 pages, Paperback
First published August 1, 2009
“Bean sidhes are native to Ireland. That’s why the stories all stem from old Irish folktales.”
Oh. Now that was quite a coincidence. But nothing more. “Got anything else, Houdini?”
“I can count the number of times we’ve really spoken before tonight on one hand.” I help up that hand for emphasis. “Then you come out of nowhere and play white knight to my damsel, and I’m supposed to believe you want nothing in return? Nothing to tell your friends about on Monday?”
He tried to laugh, but the sound was stilted, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I wouldn’t--”
“Save it. Rumor has it you’ve conquered more territory than Genghis Khan.”
The keening began deep in my throat, so low it felt like my lungs were on fire. Yet the sound was soft at first. Like a whisper I felt more than heard. I clamped my jaws shut in horror…
Tod glanced at me for the first time, his frown practically etched into place. “You were expecting someone older? Taller? Maybe kind of gaunt and skeletal?” Contempt dripped from his words like acid, and his focus snapped back to Nash in annoyance. “See? That’s the problem with the old title. I should start calling myself a ‘collections agent’ or something like that.”