“And I won’t have to talk to them about anything personal or private or whatever?”
“I promise you, you will not have to say a word.”
Satisfied, Saga let out a deep sigh and lowered her finger like she was holstering a gun. “Fine. I’ll help you.”
***
They took the Jubilee to the Piccadilly line, then on to Knightsbridge. On the way, Avery did her best to fill Saga in about her graveyard meeting with Fiore and Bimo Shinwell.
As they were boarding their second train, Avery surrendered the mobile she’d been given.
Saga attempted to explain the basic workings of the contraption. By the time they had arrived in Knightsbridge, she’d taught Avery what the numbers on the paper were for and how to dial other people’s numbers and she put both her own and Reza’s numbers into Avery’s contact list.
Coming to street level was a shock in itself for Avery.
“I take it this is a lot different than it used to be,” Saga sympathized.
“The roads could barely be called as much then—even with some of the paving measures they’d taken, it was barely more than a haunt for villains, and then the aristocracy began to flood in and take the land, but this is…astounding.” She gestured to some of the buildings of a neo-Renaissance style. “I remember architecture like this—but these were not here then.”
“Ah,” Saga nodded. “I think you’ll find we had a few resurgences of different artistic styles through the years. London has become a bit of a hub for that, especially once active trade reengaged overseas.”
“It is so much more than I would have dreamed,” admitted Avery.
“The buildings?”
“Everything.” The word sounded weak. “There’s barely an echo of the London I knew here.”
“Two hundred years is a long time,” Saga said sympathetically.
“Not generally, no,” Avery disagreed. “I mean, yes, it is over two average human lifetimes, but… Saga, I know progress and the passage of time… It never moved like this.”
Saga eyed her companion thoughtfully and wished she was more of a history buff to help fill in the gaps. “The invention of electricity spurred industry,” she explained. “We had a boom of inventions, things became more accessible to more than just the rich… If it had been a different time, things might not have changed quite so much.”
“Are you suggesting I chose the wrong time to be condemned for two hundred years?” Avery quipped.
Saga ducked her head sheepishly. “Not intentionally.”
Avery double-checked the address from a paper in her hand. “I believe that’s the location we’re looking for.”
It was a stone building with classical details. The architecture blended well with the buildings on either side of it, flush between the Mandarin Oriental Hotel and the Pavilion Club. Simple yet elegant black lettering above the door read simply: REPRISE.
“Should we be here?” Saga asked, worried.
“Of course, we have an appointment. Well,youhave an appointment.”
“How?”
“I called in a favor.”
Saga grew immediately suspicious. “I only just showed you how to use your phone, how were you calling anyone?”
Avery sighed and opened the door for her. “I said that to calm you. You don’t have an appointmentexactly, but look,” she pointed to the WALK-INS WELCOME sign. “And you fit the required criteria.”
“Goody,” Saga chimed, joyless. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped inside.
Decadent did not even begin to describe the lobby.
Squares of white marble outlined with two thin ribbons of rose gold sprawled beneath them. The walls themselves were a soft white, or perhaps the palest of blush—it was hard to decipher exactly with the gentle lighting. The doors were also rimmed with rose gold intertwining around silver and gunmetal. The doors themselves were an elegant black with an art deco design in rose gold as well. This color scheme continued tothe receptionist’s desk, where that bright dance of gold swirled within the marble itself to create a barrier between them and a startlingly beautiful woman.
