Deirdre Monaghan is alone in the girls' bathroom, throwing up before a performance (she always throws up before she has to play in front of an audience), when Luke Dillon appears. It's odd that she didn't hear him come in, yes -- but then, she was rather distracted -- it's odd that he's in the girls' bathroom, yes -- but then, he said that he heard her in there -- but what's oddest of all (odd as odd, as Luke would say) is that she's never met him before, but that she's dreamed about him. Odder than that, even, is that she doesn't really find it all that odd. Along those same lines, a bit later:
Before he shut the passenger door behind me, I briefly smelled a snatch of herbal fragrance in the summer air, quite apart from Luke's odor or the usual asphalt stench of Dave's parking lot. And then I realized I didhave a third secret to go with my key: there was some sort of danger gathering around me, but I wasn't afraid.
Where to begin? Faeries, an assassin, telekinesis, a love triangle so good that I couldn't decide which couple to root for (though I do feel myself leaning in a very definite direction), prose with a rhythm and cadence and dreamlike quality that fit the chock-full of Celtic folklore storyline but that still felt that it fit in the here and now, a heroine who is bright and likable and who, though she is attracted to a beautiful boy, doesn't lose her own self because of it (*cough* Bella Swan *cough*). Lament is very definitely a must-read for fans of Melissa Marr and other stories about the dark and dangerous side of Faerie.