Sebastian shrugged helplessly.
Wesley frowned. “I don’t often see Mr. Zhang seem anxious. I wonder what that cable he just received said.”
“So do I,” Sebastian said quietly.
* * *
Sebastian’s trunk was in his decoy room on the sixth floor. He had to sneak his clothes upstairs in stages to pack, trying not to make it obvious that he’d been more or less living with Wesley in New York. Then, when he was finally packed, he had to help Wesley, who had far more clothes than he did, and for all his wartime experience,was accustomed to having a footman pack his bags off the battlefield.
Finally, though, they had got everything loaded into a car for the trip from their hotel by Grand Central to the North River piers along the Hudson. A light rain started up as their cab made its way across Manhattan.
“I meant to send Teo a telegram before we left the hotel.” Sebastian was trying not to poke at the contusion on his face. He’d taken more of the powder before they’d left, which helped the ache but didn’t do anything for the red mottling his cheekbone. “Maybe I can still send it from the pier. He can tell my family where I’m going.”
“Ignoring what an obnoxious older brother you’re being, expecting Mateo to manage your correspondence,” Wesley said, “I already sent one.”
“You did?”
“Of course,” Wesley said, like it was obvious he would keep up his letters with Mateo, which put a cozy sort of warmth in Sebastian’s chest.
“And speaking of de Leons.” Wesley glanced at the front seat, then lowered his voice, speaking so the cab driver could not have overheard. “I might know the current Valemount line, but we haven’t really talked of the fifteenth-century Duke of Valemount. You said last night that he was a paranormal who married a Spanish countess, and they both made relics before they were found by your witch-hunting inquisitor ancestor, the original de Leon who cursed your blood?”
“Yes.” Sebastian sighed, and then admitted, “The countess was also my ancestor.”
“She was?” Wesley said in surprise.
Sebastian nodded. “She was a de Leon. The inquisitor was her brother.”
Wesley’s eyebrow went up. “And I thought my family had grievances.”
“I imagine they didn’t get along very well,” Sebastian agreed ruefully. “With that much magic in his heritage, the current Duke of Valemount could be a paranormal himself.”
“Seems possible,” said Wesley. “And whatever else he is, the two of you may be related.”
Sebastian blinked.
“Presuming the original duke had children with his Spanish countess, of course,” Wesley said. “But if this inquisitor was your direct ancestor, and the present-day Valemounts are direct descendants of the inquisitor’s sister, then you and the current duke would be some degree of cousins.”
“It would be very distant,” Sebastian said.
“Quite. But you’d be blood relations nonetheless,” Wesley said, “in a world where blood magic exists.”
It was a good point. Sebastian nodded grimly.
Soon their taxi was turning onto the busy street that ran along the Hudson, Manhattan’s tall buildings rising up on their left and the row of piers and ocean liners along the river on their right. As the taxi pulled up to their pier, Wesley craned his neck, gaze on the crowd. “I see the others, already coming our way.” He added, under his breath, “And I’m fairly certain Arthur and Brodigan’s luggage is floating an inch above the dock.”
As Sebastian followed Wesley out of the taxi and onto the curb, their four friends joined them, Jade and Arthur with umbrellas. “There you are,” Jade said, as light drops fell on Sebastian’s flat cap. “First class is already boarding.”
“You lot could have gone ahead,” Wesley said, as apair of dockhands approached. “Wait. Youarecoming, aren’t you?”
Arthur and Jade exchanged a look. “We decided Rory and I would come with you,” Arthur said. “But Jade and Zhang can’t follow yet.”
“What?” Sebastian said, furrowing his brow.
Jade motioned them over. The six of them huddled together on the sidewalk, forming a cozy knot under the two umbrellas while the dockhands began unloading Wesley’s and Sebastian’s trunks from the taxi.
“We weren’t able to get four first-class staterooms,” Jade explained, the raindrops now a gentle patter on the shared umbrellas. “We were lucky to get two—one for Lord Fine, and one for Sebastian. Arthur and Rory are sharing a cabin in second.”
“But I don’t want to you or Rory to have the worse room,” Sebastian protested.
