“You’re drawing attention from that group of women to our left.”
He didn’t look. He turned his back instead, aligning his gaze with Finnegan and Joy where they stood south from the statue, at a street corner.
Bringing Joy had been a dreadful idea for countless reasons, the least of which was that Finn’s vigilance would be divided. But Joy wouldn’t be deterred, and Reagan had let her persuade him simply because her tone had sounded like Jane’s.
His flux surged before he could brace himself, a quick hot spiral through his arm that warmed his shoulder.
“What the fuck?” Gwinifer muttered, her eyes darting through the square with a discreet sweep.
He was far less skilled than she was at blending among humans, but at least he had been quick.
“It’s fine. Nobody felt it,” he muttered.
“I just told you there were eyes on you, and you let yourself do that.”
“I do not care, Gwinifer,” he rasped lowly. “Why don’t you go to the fountain around the corner and dispatch that familiar to check the others?”
She crossed her legs and pinched her mouth. “Because I sent it two minutes ago, and if anyone spots a fin in the fountain, it will be far worse than the shit you’re pulling.”
He ground his teeth, letting his gaze roam every street that spilled into the square. Five wide lanes, each one cluttered with humans drifting in and out of the shops. He’d been inside the bakery at the corner, standing behind his sister as she questioned the owners about a man matching Giddeon’s description. They hadn’t recognized him.
A rise in chatter caught Reagan’s attention. Something had ruptured the steady flow of foot traffic up the street. People scattered, and a tall man with auburn hair made way through the crowd. Reagan narrowed his eyes, trying to glimpse a familiar face through the commotion.
“Scions,” Gwinifer warned, springing from the bench.
From a broad side street, the group approached at a leisurely pace. Four well-dressed men waded through the crowd, their tailored coats standing out as they cut a direct line towards them.
Gwin cursed under her breath, likely irritated that they had been spotted first, yet Reagan’s attention was on the man.
His gaze locked onto the silver-haired figure with a high nose.
He almost couldn’t believe it. It was as though Godric had answered his wish and delivered Giddeon Madden straight onto his path.
The Order head strode forward with his cluster of cronies, self-important on their sewn vests and fine jackets. One wore suspenders over a shirt with two buttons open, the ink visible across his chest. Two of them smoked, circling wide along the edges of the square while three moved directly towards Reagan.
Finn released his familiar nearby, a spectral fox slipping into an alley to warn the other squads.
Reagan arranged all matter of thought into focus.
“Watch for anyone flinging,” he murmured to his sister.
Gwinifer nodded, eyes scanning the men approaching and the others beginning to join from adjoining streets. Not only men, Reagan realised. But there was no sign of Jane.
Finn and Joy inched closer to them.
Reagan’s attention shifted to the tall man with the temple tattoo who had stepped behind Madden. He recognised the face but didn’t remember from where. Perhaps from a newspaper. With short brown hair and a pale face, the man stood close, clothed in wealth that had almost certainly come from Ashenagth’s corrupt gold.
Beside him stood a bronze-skinned woman with dark curls clad in finery, watching him warily.
The last man at Madden’s flank levelled a glare at Reagan. His body was burly, his stance wide, like someone with combat training. A shield.
Reagan had made it halfway to Giddeon Madden when more Scions appeared from alleys. From the corner of his eye, he saw his squads arriving, forming a loose phalanx that reminded him of wolves closing ranks.
“You are a very difficult man to get hold of,” Reagan said.
Madden tipped his head, pretending not to understand. “Lord Reagan, what a pleasure meeting you here of all places. Were you looking for me?”
“You didn’t receive my requests for an audience?” Reagan asked dryly. “All ignored.”
