“So,” I demanded, trying to sound confident, “where can we find this trod to New Orleans?”“The frost giant ruins,” Ash replied, looking thoughtful. “Very close to Mab’s court.” At Puck’s glare, he shrugged and offered a tiny, rueful smirk. “She goes to Mardi Gras every year.”I pictured the Queen of the Unseelie Court flashing a couple of drunken partygoers, and giggled uncontrollably. All three shot me a strange look. “Sorry,” I gasped, biting my lip. "Still kind of giddy, I guess.”

“She was a full lipped and hipped italian tomato with Rome burning in her eyes. She had the look of a carnival in Rio, or Mardi Gras in New Orleans, or bullfights in Spain, or Saturday night in my apartment.”

“But the reasons against going to New Orleans--that spicy southern city known for jazz and Mardi Gras and hospitality--were the very reasons we had to go.”

“Ozzy Osbourne and Motley Crue in New Orleans on Mardi Gras = bad idea!”

“For this mortal I would disobey my queen, abandon my king, the court that has protected me all these years. All of it.”

“Im going to kiss you, Eleanore" he said quietly, still looking at her. "Not now. Later." His eyes cut back to mine. "I thought it fair to tell you first." I stilled. "If you think you can do so without me biting your lip, feel free to try." His gaze shone wicked blue. "I dont mind if you bite." "Biting your lip off, I should have said." "Ah,Lets see how it goes, shall we?”