“Don’t say a word,” I said, jamming the key into the ignition. “I wouldn’t,” said the Luidaeg. “Love is love. It’s rarer in Faerie than it used to be—rarer than it should be, if you ask me. If you can find it, you should cling to it, and never let anything interfere. Besides, he has a nice ass.” Her lips quirked in a weirdly mischievous smile. “I mean, damn. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to wear leather pants. He’s one of them. He’s a clear and present danger when he puts those things on. Or takes them off.” “And now you’re creeping me out,” I said.
