A wash of memory swept over her with Alban’s touch, his vivid recollection of an aging selkie man disappearing into the sea, the last of his people. As though the memory triggered Janx into life, the dragon turned on Alban with a snarl.

"You said they were-"

"It was the best of our knowledge." Alban’s deep voice rolled over Janx’s without pity, quashing his protest before he said anything damning to the one uninformed human in the group. "It was the best I could do."

"So many," Daisani breathed. "So many. All here, all in one place. How? How is it possible? If so many can be here-"

Cara came from the ice rink, walking with improbable smoothness despite the blades on her feet. She held her chin high, shoulders back, confidence and pride in her every movement. "Eliseo." Margrit’s mouth fell open at the contempt in the selkie girl’s tone. "Janx. Alban." The last name was accompanied by a raking glance. "Do you speak for your people?"

"I have no right to do so." Alban kept his voice steady, though he tightened his hand on Margrit’s, and she thought she heard a note of reluctance in his words.

Tony, bewildered, stared from one face to another. "What the hell is going on? Who are these people, Grit?"

"This is Cara," Margrit answered softly. "Cara Delaney. The girl who went missing from her apartment in January, the one I asked you to help me find. She’d gone to a friend. To a lot of friends, it looks like."

"Then your people will have no spokesman at our table." Cara ignored the humans and dismissed Alban, glancing beyond the group toward Malik. "And you?" Her voice rose to carry to him, though Margrit had no doubt he’d hear even a whisper.

"Alban, you have to go." Margrit looked up at the pale gargoyle. "Better you than nobody."

"Margrit, what-?"

"I have no right, Margrit."

"Tony-"

Everyone spoke at once, Tony’s frustrated tones the loudest, and Margrit’s useless attempt to find words to reassure him drowned out beneath Alban’s certainty.

"Right is what you make of it." Malik used human locomotion to move to Cara’s side, but for all the attention Margrit paid, he might have simply dissipated and reappeared. "I’ll sit for my people." The glance he darted at Janx was laden with ambition, though avarice was wiped away again within an instant.

Her attention drawn to the dragonlord, Margrit saw the slow curl of smile that revealed too-long, sharp eyeteeth well after Malik had looked away again.

"Much as I hate to say it, Malik’s right, Alban." She turned from the gargoyle, releasing his hand to face Tony. She caught a glimpse of Cameron and Cole standing with human awkwardness amidst a throng of beings able to do something as mundane as wait with grace and patience. "Tony, I’ve got to go with these people."

"Excuse me?" Janx asked, amusement clear in his voice.

Margrit looked toward him, brazen confidence worn down by sudden tiredness. "One of each, don’t you think?"

"Oh, I insist." Daisani broke off from his fascinated study of the selkies with panache, as if the conversation had only just become interesting enough to bother with. "Margrit’s gotten us into this fine mess. I wouldn’t let her go now for any price."

"Nor would we," Cara said. There was a formality to her voice Margrit had never heard before, as if she was taking part in a ritual translated to English for Margrit’s benefit. "You three, then, to speak for your own." She nodded at Janx, Daisani and Malik. "The fifth will go unspoken for."

"If there’s a little time," Janx offered, with a sideways smile at Alban, "I could call Biali to the table."

"That would-"

"No." Alban’s voice rumbled over Janx’s with a heavy note of finality. "I’ll take our place at the quorum."

"For Margrit’s sake or your own?" Janx turned from Alban, to watch dark confusion and anger crease Tony’s face. "My dear detective, I’m afraid you’re no longer needed here. It’s been a pleasure."

"There’s no way I’m-"

"Tony." Margrit broke free from the little group, as if a few steps constituted privacy. "Tony, I promise I’ll explain all of this later, but right now I need to go with them. I know I’m asking too much, okay? But I’m asking it anyway. I need you to trust me and to let this go. I need you to tell Cam and Cole I’m all right and that I don’t know when I’ll be home, but not to worry."

"I can’t do that, Margrit."

"You have to. You have to, Tony. I’ve never needed anything from you as much as I need this right now. Please. For me, this one time. I’ll explain when I can."

"No." Tony shook his head, resignation mixed with bitter unhappiness. "No, you won’t. Forget it, Margrit. I’ve heard that promise too many times. You’re not gonna explain, and I’m tired of waiting."

"Tony." She reached for his hand. He pulled back, and prickles of embarrassment swept over her. "Tony, I will. I swear."

"You mean it now, but something’s gonna change. It keeps happening. I’m sorry, Grit. I can’t do this anymore." He took another step back, jaw clenched with resolution. "I love you, but this isn’t working, and I don’t see how it’s ever going to. You go on. Do what you have to do." He hesitated a moment, then shrugged helplessly. "Goodbye."

She shut her eyes in defeat as he walked away. Warmth stirred the air a moment later, and she looked up to find that the members of the Old Races had closed ranks around her. "All of you," she said with a thin note of bitterness. "All of you with your different shapes and your amazing skills, and you can’t even do something like alter somebody’s memory a little so this kind of mess doesn’t happen? What the hell good is being stuck in a fairy tale if you can’t even magic away some of the trouble you cause in mortal lives?"

Malik offered a sharp smile. "Fairies rarely made life easy for those in their tales. And you’ve just told him the truth about all of us. You know the consequences."

"Oh, don’t threaten me," Margrit said in disgust. She was glad for the emotion, letting it bury hurt and sorrow. "I’m happy to play Dorothy to your Wicked Witch, so just lay off."

"What were you thinking, Ms. Knight?" Janx hissed. "Telling him the truth?"

"It’s not like he could possibly believe it. You’re angry." Margrit laughed with more dismay than humor. "You haven’t called me ‘Ms.’ in ages. I was thinking-"

"It doesn’t matter." Defense came from an unexpected source, Daisani interrupting the bickering with controlled calm. "He neither could nor did believe her, and we have an enclave to call to order. Miss Delaney." He turned his attention to the selkie girl, who met his gaze without a hint of the shyness Margrit was accustomed to seeing from her. "If you could escort us to whatever quarters Kaimana has arranged for this meeting, we would all be deeply appreciative."

CHAPTER 18

Cara led them into a Rockefeller Center conference room, then slipped out again, leaving one of every sentient race there. Kaimana was waiting for them, his black eyes very large and drinking in the low light greedily.

Daisani took the lead, easily confident. "Strength in numbers. What a very human sentiment, Kaimana."

"It is." The selkie got to his feet as his five guests fanned out to take seats at a round conference table. Janx and Daisani chose the chairs closest to Kaimana without argument from the others; even at a table without a head there were positions of power. Margrit sat on Janx’s right, across from Daisani, whose mouth quirked curiously at her selection.

A surge of satisfaction burst through her at the vampire’s faint change of expression. She upset the expected balances and alliances at the table by claiming that seat. Alban sat beside her, though beside was misleading. Margrit could stretch her arms out fully without touching either of the men she sat between.