“They most certainly do,” she said. “Just not where the police can see.”
Did they really? Rory bit his lip. It didn’t matter; he’d never get to write poetry to a man like Arthur anyway. “It’snota sonnet,” he said. “I told Kenzie to leave me the hell alone.”
She tilted her head. “And is that what you really want from him?”
I want him to walk through those doors, tell me I don’t have to face this alone, tell me I can hold on to him ’cause he won’t let go.
Rory scowled. “’Course it’s what I want,” he said, even though his stomach was twisted with nerves and confusion.
She smiled, just a little too shrewd. “If you say so, dear.”
The Dragon House was crowded at lunch, every table full beneath the glossy black beams of the ceiling, Arthur hunched against a swath of red silk hung on one wall as he waited, conscious of every inch of his six-foot-three frame and trying to keep his big feet out of the staff’s way. Judging by the irritated Chinese he kept hearing, he wasn’t succeeding.
Next to him, Jade was openly eying the closest waitress, who was pushing a dim sum cart piled high with bamboo steamer baskets. “Do you think Ling would notice if a shrimp dumpling floated my way?”
Arthur glanced down at her. “When did you meet the waitress?”
“Several weeks ago, at least,” Jade said distractedly. “Focus on the food, Ace.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “The whole tea house would notice a dumpling floating this way. Now a pork bun, on the other hand—”
She gave a soft huff. “I don’t think we’re going to get lunch with my magic.”
“I’ll try, then.” He cleared his throat. When Ling looked his way, he gave her his best smile as Jade waved. Ling ducked her head, biting her lip against her own smile, and turned the dim sum cart in their direction.
“Is he flirting with my cousin?”
“Zhang!” Arthur straightened and bumped a beam with his hat. He tried to find a smile that wasn’t at all guilty. “Good to see you,” he said to the handsome man in the bowler hat and three-piece suit. “Actually see you, this time.”
Zhang raised his eyebrow. “He was flirting with my cousin,” he said to Jade.
Jade batted her eyelashes in a way Arthur knew had once convinced a German officer to unlock her handcuffs. “Is there something wrong with men and women flirting?”
“Ah.” Zhang floundered. He looked a little dazed. “Not a thing.”
Jade smiled, genuine and bright. Arthur glanced between them suspiciously. They’d known Zhang about six months now, and he’d chalked up Jade’s extra warmth to her natural affinity with people. But Arthur hadn’t seen the two of them at the same time for a few weeks, hadn’t seen the way they stared at each other and ignored the rest of the room. Ignored Arthur.
Interesting.
“We were hungry,” said Jade. “And we have news.”
“Did you hear the part about us being hungry?” said Arthur.
A short moment later, Jade and Arthur were behind the curtains of the tea house’s private room, sharing an oversized table with a lazy Susan turntable in the middle. Zhang followed them in, balancing a stack of steamer baskets and metal pots. He set the food on the table and took the seat on Jade’s other side.
“You both know this Gwendoline Taylor?” he said, as he opened the closest basket and began using chopsticks to load Jade’s plate with golden dumplings.
“Subordinate paranormal,” said Arthur. “London born and raised, moved to Paris after she lost her parents to the war.”
“We met her at the cabaret where my sister, Stella, sang,” said Jade. “Gwen did all sorts of work there, but for us she’d read the moods of the crowds, help Stella’s shows go smoothly. She was a treasure. A friend.” A second pair of chopsticks floated up into the air and lifted a rice noodle roll onto Zhang’s plate. Zhang glanced up at Jade in surprise and what looked like delight, and Jade grinned.
Christ, theywereflirting. Arthur averted his gaze and grabbed a different steamer basket.By all means, make endless puppy eyes at each other. Don’t mind the third person at the table, I’ll be just fine with my own plus one, Mr. Barbecue Pork Bun.
“Why do you have afriendon a watch list?” said Zhang.
“Wasa friend, past tense,” said Jade.
“Last time we saw her, she was powerful and unpredictable.” Arthur grimaced. “And wanted nothing to do with us.” That wound was still raw. If only they could have found something, anything, to help.
