Playing With Fire

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This book is dedicated to my family — because otherwise I'd never hear the end of it. . .

Nadine — Warm, kind, and considerate, I am all of these things.

Audrey — The greatest thrill of your life is probably the fact that I'm your brother.

Ivan — Meaningless words such as "brilliant," "amazing," and "inspirational" have been used to describe me, but not nearly enough.

If any of you thought that there'd be something sincere or heartfelt in your dedications, allow me a moment to quietly laugh at you. ...

Because the heartfelt sincerity is reserved for my nana.

Chic, this book is also dedicated to you, for all the love and support you've shown me over the years. I love you much more than any of your other grandchildren do, I swear.

VALKYRIE CAIN hit the parapet and tumbled, unable to stop herself, and with a panicked gasp she disappeared off the edge. The church tower stood high and proud, looking out over Dublin City. The night breeze was brisk and carried snatches of laughter from the street below. It was a long way down. A man in a tattered coat walked up to the edge and peered over. He smirked.

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