Prologue My philosophy is pretty simple—any day nobody’s trying to kill me is a good day in my book. I haven’t had many good days lately. Not since the walls between Man and Faery came down. But then, there’s not a sidhe-seer alive who’s had a good day since then. Before The Compact was struck between Man and Fae (around 4000 B.C. for those of you who aren’t up on your Fae history), the Unseelie Hunters hunted us down like animals and killed us. But The Compact forbade the Fae to spill human blood, so for the next six thousand years, give or take a few centuries, those with True Vision—people like me who can’t be fooled by Fae glamour or magic—were taken captive and imprisoned in Faery until they died. Real big difference there: dying or being stuck in Faery until you die. Unlike some people I know, I’m not fascinated by them. Dealing with the Fae is like dealing with any addiction—you give in, they’ll own you; you resist, they never will. Now that the walls are down, the Hunters are back to killing us again. Stamping us out like we’re the plague on this planet. Aoibheal, the Seelie Queen of the Light, is no longer in charge. In fact, nobody seems to know where she is anymore, and some people are beginning