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about her tender emotions—which hadn’t been out of their shell since the day her mother was seduced by a French goblin and stopped loving her daughter.
    “I don’t want to feel,” she whispered against his lips. But even the gentle movements of speech caused further sparks between them.
    “I know.” Jack slowly lifted his head. His expression was more sober than languorous. “But if you stay with me, you will feel. Lots of things, many of them horrible. So think carefully, little fey, before you commit. I know you’re out for revenge, and I know why. Can’t blame you a bit for wanting it either. But you have forgotten that revenge is a thing of the heart and soul rather than the mind. It is the hate in the heart that gives us the strength to do what we must. Ideology alone isn’t enough to carry the day. All dogma will do is blind you. Especially here. This is the magical world and you have to use gutthink. You have to feel .”
    His hands were soothing as he smoothed them down her arms. He cupped her cold hands with his larger, warmer ones. She appreciated the gesture of consolation, even as she hated his words.
    “If you can’t face your emotions, then now is the time for you to get out of the game.” Jack’s voice was dispassionate, giving no hint of his own feelings. “Go home and think about it for a bit. If you’re stillin, then meet me outside The Madhouse at midnight tonight.”
    “I’m in!” Io answered immediately.
    Jack shook his head.
    “ Think about it, Io. Feel about it. Aren’t you nervous? I sure as hell am. I don’t trust it when things are going so smooth and sweet that you can spread it on toast and have it with tea. Experience says the pendulum is due to swing the other way and things are gonna get ugly. I don’t want you getting killed because you flinched at the wrong moment, or walked into a situation with blinders on.”
    “I’m not a coward,” she said hotly. Not about facing goblins . “And I’m not stupid.”
    “I never said you were.” Jack dropped his hands and stepped back. Io once again felt cold and bereft. “By the way, if you come tonight, try to draw a better spell. Cheat a little—have a stir around in the bowl and look for something with a bit of kick. I don’t think apple perfume is going to help you much if you get cornered by bad guys with big teeth. And speaking of things that smell bad, you’d better give me those samples.”
    Io reached into her pocket with trembling hands. She handed the vials of Neveling’s perfume over quickly.
    “Where can I find you?” She asked as he turned to leave. “If I need you.”
    “Just follow the magic, little fey. It knows whereto find me.” Jack’s voice floated back as he vanished into the black fog that was rolling up the street. “And I wouldn’t tell Xanthe about our next little outing. Odds are good she won’t like it.”

Chapter Seven
    Moonlight was beginning to trickle out of the sky and into the dirty streets of Goblin Town when Jack arrived at The Madhouse.
    Io watched him come striding up the street, his black duster flowing open like a cape, and the spurs of his black boots jingling musically. Not that the sound called up the same merry thoughts as sleigh bells. It was more the sound of Death moving toward a shootout at a saloon.
    And how the night loved him as he stalked along under it: his eyes, his hair, his very flesh!
    He didn’t smile when he saw her, but she was coming to know him and recognized that there was satisfaction in his gaze when he looked down at her.
    “So, guess what spell I drew?” she greeted him.
    Jack sniffed the air. “Something violent.”
    Io lowered her voice. “Yep. It started out as a stupid spell to open cans with my finger. But I’ve beenworking on it and now I can stuff my right fist through concrete. Or wood, or metal. It probably works pretty well on goblins, too, but I haven’t tried it yet.”
    Jack finally smiled. His teeth were very white and