“Oh no, I’ll have to live for a few days without a marble sink and a butler up my ass, how ever will I manage,” Arthur said, deadpan. “I assure you, it’s quite fine. Frankly I’d choose bunking with Rory infourthover being cloistered with the stuck-up pricks in first.”
“Thank you, Arthur,” Wesley said dryly.
“We need to question the current Duke of Valemount, now more than ever,” Jade said. “Lord Fine said they’re in the same circles and can attend the same parties. We want it known that Lord Fine is returning to England so he receives those invitations.”
Sebastian didn’t want to separate from Wesley, but he also didn’t want to draw undue suspicion. “But your father is a congressman, no?” Sebastian said to Arthur. “Aren’t you the most logical choice of all of us to travelwith Wesley? You could go to any party with his peers and no one would think anything of it.”
“True,” Jade said, “but we have an even better idea.”
She pointed at Sebastian.
His eyes widened. “What would I know of English high society?” Sebastian said, trying not to squirm under the others’ stares.
“Well, let’s see,” Zhang said. “You had an aunt who was supposed to marry the Earl of Blanshard.”
“And another aunt you just told me was the Spanish countess who married the original Duke of Valemount,” Wesley added. “Somehow I doubt either of those men would have been eager to marry commoners.”
“Wait,” said Rory. “You’rerelatedto this Lord Valemount fella?”
“It would be very,verydistant,” Sebastian said weakly.
But the others were still staring at him. Wesley tilted his head. “Something you neglected to tell us, Sebastian?”
“No,”Sebastian said firmly. “I haven’t been hiding some kind of title all this time. The things you and Zhang bring up are ancient history.”
“What do you think English peerage is built on?” Wesley said. “That Spanish princess you once mentioned, with superstrength. She wasn’tanotherof your relatives, was she?”
Sebastian groaned. “Why is your memory so good?” He made a face. “Our world is magic. My parents had left all of that other stuff behind even before they went to Puerto Rico. The titles, high society—that’s your world, Wes.”
“Perhaps,” Jade said. “But you still know enough to pass as a Spanish aristocrat, don’t you?”
Oh no. “Please say you’re joking, Jade.”
“Of course I’m not joking,” Jade said, with a grin. “We’ve booked your ticket under a pseudonym. You can infiltrate the aristocracy as the eldest son of a Spanish count—a glamorous international bachelor heading to London with his friend, the Viscount Fine.”
“This way you can attend every social event with Lord Fine and be a second pair of eyes and ears,” Zhang added. “It needs to be you who joins Fine to talk to the Duke of Valemount, and not Arthur or Rory. You’re the most likely to recognize it if he refers to anything about the relics.”
The others were nodding along with Jade and Zhang. “A count’s son.” Sebastian rubbed his forehead. “Dame paciencia,” he muttered.
Rory snorted. “You gotta find your own patience,” he said, sounding amused. “But are you gonna blow your cover walking around like that?” he said, pointing to Sebastian’s cheek.
“Oh, that part’s fine,” Arthur said, with an unconcerned wave. “You’d be surprised how often so-called men of culture get in fights. Just look at the entire concept of dueling.”
“I want to protest, but Arthur is right, we can invent any number of stories to explain a bruise,” Wesley said. “Boxing, outdoorsmanship, or hell, simply tell the truth—you were defending a girl from some lout.” He turned to Jade. “This covers us, but Miss Robbins, why are you and Mr. Zhang taking another ship?”
Zhang held out a piece of paper. “Our cable from Gwen.”
Wesley held it flat so Sebastian could read it too.
HYDE MISSING STOP TRAIL POINTS TO TANGIER STOP WE ARE EN ROUTE TO SPAIN NOW STOP
“I don’t understand,” Wesley said, as Sebastian stared at Gwen’s message, stomach in knots. “Gwen Taylor is your friend in London, the one with witch-sight who controls the tide, married to the man who can turn invisible? And Hyde I assume refers to the paranormal who called himself Mr. Hyde, who has a very bad history with several of you?”
That was putting it lightly. Hyde was a paranormal with shape-shifting magic who’d been prisoner under the same blood magic as Sebastian, only Hyde hadn’t needed any motivation to kill or maim. Arthur still bore scars from Hyde’s claws, a remnant of an interrogation during the war.
“I understood from Gwen and Ellis that Hyde was securely locked away in a remote English asylum,” Jade said. “Sebastian, she said the three of you took him there and saw that his cell was fully secured, with magic traps painted by your cousin Isabel. Hyde is terribly dangerous, yes, but last I knew, he was bound by Rory’s magic, his mind trapped in the fifteenth century.”
“And he can rot there,” said Rory darkly. Despite their size difference, he’d moved to stand protectively close to Arthur. “My magic wouldn’t have let Hyde go, not after what he did to Ace. If anyone deserves to be locked up, it’s that monster.”
