Lorcan, born of a human mother and a half-Fae father, looked human, even more so than most half Fae. He was slender, but his features were very human, his hair wheat brown instead of the severe pale fair of most Fae. His hair covered his ears, but Graham was pretty sure those ears weren’t pointy.

“You will,” Dylan said.

“We know what you’re up to, ass**le,” Graham said. “You and your dad made the Collars, and I’m willing to bet you made or helped make the Fae swords too. Now, what’s the master plan? Or did you just want to make Shifters more miserable? Fae are still pissed off that Shifters won the war against them all those years ago and took their freedom. Get over it, already.”

“This is a waste of time,” Bowman said impatiently. “Break some bones and get some answers. How many of these swords exist? Where are they? Why have the Fae waited to use them?”

“Let Dylan finish,” Jace said sternly.

The other Shifters looked at him, falling silent. Graham saw them adjust their thinking from viewing Jace as an older cub to Jace as Eric’s successor.

Air displaced next to Graham, and Reid was there. Graham had drawn back his fist, ready to punch, but checked himself at the last minute. “Damn it, Reid.”

The other Shifter leaders had started forward, a few of them half shifting. “What the f**k?” Bowman asked. Not everyone had known Reid could teleport.

When Lorcan saw Reid, his assurance drained rapidly. “Dokk alfar.” He continued with a string of weird-sounding words.

“Ironmaster,” Reid said, in English. He held up his hand, which was clasped by a heavy black ring—iron—and advanced on Lorcan.

“What’s he afraid of?” Bowman asked, a growl in his throat. “Iron doesn’t affect mixed-breed Fae. And what the hell is he?” He pointed at Reid.

“A dark Fae,” Graham said. “A pain in the ass. But handy to have around.”

Reid didn’t appear to care whether iron was supposed to work on mixed-blood Fae or not. He held up his hand, light sliding on the dark ring, and brought his hand down and wrapped it around Lorcan’s throat.

Lorcan screamed. He tried to scramble away from Reid, the chains clinking, chair scraping. He yelled rapidly in Fae before settling down to English. “Make it stop! Make it stop! Please! Stop!”

The rest of the Shifter leaders watched in a mixture of surprise and unease. Who the hell is this? their body language said clearly. And do I have to worry he can do that to me?

Reid lifted his hand from Lorcan’s neck, took a step back, and nodded at Dylan. Dylan didn’t return the nod.

Graham went forward, tired of waiting. The Morrisseys could toy with Lorcan all day, like the cats they were, if they decided to. Wolves were more straightforward. “What is going on with the Collars and the swords?” he asked, pushing his face to Lorcan’s. “I want to know everything, including how to keep the Fae from activating them.”

Lorcan licked the side of his mouth, where blood had dripped. More blood dripped from his nose, thin streams of it. “It’s too late. The High Fae have been making swords to match the spells in the Collars for many years. They’re almost ready. My father and I were chosen to help prepare the way.”

“Because Fae want Shifters back under their power?” Graham asked. “Guess what? They’re not getting it.”

“Fae wish to walk the earth again, as they once did. Shifters will fight the humans for the Fae—Shifters can fight iron.”

“You mean Shifters kill all the humans, and the Fae pour out of their stone circles and rule the earth?” Graham leaned closer to Lorcan. “Do they realize how many humans are on this planet?”

“Fae aren’t that good at math,” Lorcan said, gray lips quirking to a little smile. “But there are many millions of Fae in Faerie. Only a handful of them ever lived on earth. It’s getting crowded in Faerie, and they want the human world back.”

“Using Shifters to get it?”

“The battle beasts, yes.”

Oison had called Graham a battle beast. “If Shifters get wiped out in this little war, the Fae won’t have their battle beasts anymore,” Graham said.

“They’ll make more,” Lorcan said. “You have many cubs now.”

Graham felt the blood drain from his face. Shifters started to growl, move.

Rage replaced Graham’s shock. He grabbed Lorcan by his shirt. “They touch the cubs, and we’ll rip off their heads, starting with yours.”

“I told them that,” Lorcan said desperately, more blood trickling from his nose and mouth. “I told them how protective you were of cubs. They don’t care.”

Reid said, “Sounds like typical hoch alfar. Cold and stupid.”

Dylan broke in, his quiet voice even more deadly. “Why did they wait twenty years? In the first years of the Collars, we were weaker, more vulnerable. There was chaos trying to settle into Shiftertowns and find our feet.”

“They wanted you stronger,” Lorcan answered. “Shifters started to live longer, be more healthy, have more cubs. Multiply.”

Graham shook Lorcan once, spraying blood. “So the Fae would have a bigger army.”

“Larger and stronger.”

“Shit.” Graham released him, and Lorcan thumped back into the seat.

“What is the secret of the swords?” Jace asked around Dylan. “How can we break their effect?”