Before she could do what I was sure both of us would regret forever, a dark, slim hand fell on her little shoulder. She looked up with irritated frustration as Kismet's fingers closed gently over the soft fabric of the girl's dress.

"It is only fair, little sister," Kismet spoke for the first time. At least that I'd heard her. Her voice had flavor, rich and deep, chocolatey, coffee and cream and lush sweet fruits layered with syrup I could taste in the back of my throat. The ...