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her flawless dark silk skin and her exotic looks, that probably wasn’t the only thing Tristan had been looking at. Olivia was half Kenyan and half Puerto Rican, a stunning combination. I’d noticed Tristan watching her when he didn’t think she was paying attention.
    Olivia’s penchant for wearing T-shirts with amusing sayings, as well as jeans and Keds sneakers, didn’t take anything away from her sensual looks. Once she started talking, though, everyone saw Olivia in a far different way—a tough streetwise cop turned private investigator who jumped into everything as if she were bulletproof.
    “So …” Olivia gave me a sly look. “How’s the fire-breathing hunk?”
    My cheeks burned as if the fire-breathinng g hunk had scorched them with his flames. I turned away before forcing myself to look at her again.
    “I’m not sure I want a relationship right now.” I cleared my throat. “I have a lot to think about.”
    Olivia surprisingly didn’t give any kind of smart-ass remark. “Fair enough.”
    “Adam found someone,” I said. “He stopped by tonight to tell me.”
    “She’s a ballerina.” Olivia studied me. “I helped Boyd out with some information on his last case. She was his case.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?” I wasn’t sure whether I should feel hurt or appreciative.
    Olivia’s gaze remained firm. “I thought about it and I really wanted to. But it just didn’t seem right. It was so hard not to say anything. Still, I figured it was his job to tell you, not mine.”
    Slowly I nodded. “You’re right. It was better coming from him. Thank you.”
    She tilted her head. “Are you okay with it?”
    “Yes.” I smiled. “I want the best for Adam. And if it’s this ballerina, then that’s great.”
    From the corner of my eye I saw my brother stepping off the curb—right in front of a taxi.
    “Tristan!” I lunged toward him, grabbed his arm, and jerked him back onto the sidewalk.
    The cab’s horn blared and the whoosh of air as it passed blew my hair out of my face. I released Tristan’s arm and held my hand to my pounding heart. “You can’t step in front of moving vehicles. You’ll get flattened.” I added, “Not to mention a big blue guy might have freaked out the cabdriver.”
    Olivia gave an unladylike snort. “You’re talking about New York City cabdrivers. Nothing freaks them out.”
    He gave me a sheepish look. “This place is most unlike Otherworld.”
    “No kidding.” I grimaced. It was Tristan’s first excursion in preparation for becoming a Night Tracker. He was leaving in the morning for his training in Chicago.
    “You need to get used to Manhattan before we turn you loose on the city,” I continued. “That means be careful . Besides, Father would kill me if anything happens to you after we finally got you back.”
    It’ll be a while before he’ll be an effective Tracker, I thought. Almost gets hit by a car …
    My brother looped his arm around my shoulders, his blue flesh looking darker against my pale amethyst skin. Drow have skin tones ranging from blue to purple to dark gray—all shades that blend in with the night and shadows.
    Tristan gave my shoulders a light squeeze. “I still cannot believe how much you have grown, little sister,” he said in the language of the Dark Elves. His English was perfect thanks to my human mother teaching him when he was young, and he could read and write the language just as easily.
    “I’m not so little anymore.” I smiled. “Especially now that we’re the same age.”
    “It doesn’t matter that time did not pass for me when I was captured in the stone,” he said. “You will always be my little sister.”
    We were both twenty-seven now, a fact that was strange to us since I had been five when he was taken from my family by Zombies. Fortunately all that was history now, and I had Tristan back.
    “I know you want to look around,” I said. “But stay close and don’t get off the sidewalk.”
    Tristan