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“Alfie…”
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s protection. Better safe than too late to be sorry.” He shoves the knife into my hand. “I’ll get it back off you when I return from my dad’s.”
“I have this.” I dangle my rape alarm between us. “I don’t need a knife. You shouldn’t have it either. You could get into a lot of trouble.”
“You really think that shitty little thing is going to keep you safe?” A cynical laugh rumbles from him. “Fuck, man, I thought you’re meant to be smart?”
Only a few minutes late, my bus appears in the side mirror as he pulls up to the stop. While I grab my violin from the back seat, I give him back his knife before flinging my backpack over my shoulder.
“Be careful, Alfie.”
“Watch your back, yeah, Cinders?” he calls at me before peeling off to catch the green light ahead, performing a highly illegal U-turn that has the traffic erupting into a chaotic cacophony of sirens and cursing.
The instant I’m on the bus and tucked away on the bench close to the driver, I take the thirty-minute ride to Zen myself. Barber’s Adagio plays on repeat the entire journey while I clear my head.
I’ve never been so damn nervous in my life as I walk through the backstreets of Westminster to the private mews where Hush is located, by Whitehall Palace. The thought of starting a regular, well-paying music gig is as exciting as it is terrifying. Then there’s the prospect of seeing the Duke again. It was stupid to google him after Percival left me. Doctor Google only made my curiosity worse with the limited information I found out.
Henry Albert James Dorchester-Sloane is the second cousin to the prince. His mother, Princess Margaret, is cousin to the King of England, and his father was one of the most revered haematologists in the world, aside from being the Duke of Gloucester.
“Evening, miss.” The guard at the gated mews comes to greet me when I stop outside the gates, still debating whether I’ve made the right choice in coming back here. His stare rakes me from head to toe as I watch the black plume of his polished metal helmet lightly bluster in the evening breeze.
“Evening,” I reply, flitting my attention to the assault rifle clutched to the side of his black-and-silver-cloaked garbs.
“ID?” he asks when I hand him the staff card that was in the envelope Percival left with me.
It takes me a moment to fish out my driver’s licence, but once he’s checked it over, the guard calls me through the side gate. While I pack away my ID and purse into my backpack, a chauffeured car comes through the wide double gates. It’s dark and sleek, and when I make my way up the mews, it crawls slowly beside me.
The tall limestone buildings on either side of the street block out the city. It’s like walking back in time. Gold-railed window boxes are blooming with blood-red and deep purple flowers. Meanwhile, the black streetlamps are all decorated with a gold crown on the top, with three wolves holding up the glass casing of the gaslights.
The wolves are everywhere, from the manholes on the cobbled road to the drain grates along the side of the pavement. They watch from the mouldings on the buildings, corbels, and gargoyle-like faces with sharp teeth, claws, and crowns. Together with the eerie quietness of the early evening, it gives the place a forbidding air that causes me to shudder when I go up the steps to the expansive building at the very end of the mews.
A small roundabout sits behind me with a tall, ancient-looking tree planted in the middle. The trunk is wide enough that it blocks the view of the gates at a distance when I look behind me. Clearly, it’s meant to hide the entrance of the club from prying eyes.
The door opens before I knock. I feel like Belle walking into the Beast’s castle, except it’s a Palladian mansion house hidden in the midst of royal palaces and parliament buildings.
“Good evening, Miss Cameron,” the butler greets me with a hunched bow. It’s an odd welcome, and it only heightens the foreboding crackle in my chest when I look over my shoulder to find the sleek Mercedes paused at the bottom of the steps.
The dark tinted windows make it impossible to see inside, but I can see a shadow within. I feel it watching me as I stare at the glass as though somehow I’ll be able to see through it eventually.
It’s only when the butler clears his throat that I turn away, but that feeling remains. I can’t shake it off, and ignoring it is impossible as I greet the man in front of me with a shaky smile.
“Back so soon.” He beams far too brightly, given he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough the last time I was here.
“You’re telling me.”
“I’ll have these taken up for you,” he informs me while taking my violin case and backpack from me.
Tugging on a thick gold rope hanging from the ceiling by his desk, he waits for a girl to appear from a concealed panel door on the wall behind him.
She’s about average height, taller than me but a lot slimmer. The body chains draped over her body and the black gauzy robe over them do nothing to cover up her dignity.
“Take these up to the suite, Mary,” he tells her, handing over my belongings.
Her gaze greets mine. It’s then I notice the dark freckle at the top of her cheekbone. She’s the girl that was serving drinks during the dinner.
“Hi.” I smile at her, but all I get in return is a stoic blink.
“Off you go, Mary.” The butler shoos her away with his hand.
