Page 53 of Find My Way Down to You

Secretly, I hope London’s not there. Because then I’ll probably never see him again. I’m the reason he’s dead. I’d never be worthy of a place like Elysium.

It’sselfishof me to want him to be anywhere else. That doesn’t make it any less true.

Turning away, I jog in Cary’s direction. That ember of hope inside me grows into an inferno. I’m not giving up.

I will find London, no matter what.

8

The moment thegates of Aides peel open, the howls come. Loud and vicious. Starved.

Once again, Cary steps in front of me. Arm extended almost protectively. His shoulders square like he’s prepared for a fight.

“Stay behind me.”

I do. But instead of a towering, three-headed hound with homicidal eyes and unhinged jaws, the trio of smoke gray Danes scampers from the shadows. They sniff the air, sensing more than just Cary. Their blue eyes find me before I can make myself smaller.

I suck in a quiet breath, ready for the worst.

That also never comes.

One of the Danes sits in front of me, tongue lolling. Asecond flops onto his back, belly up. The last climbs me until his front legs are on my shoulders.

I laugh as he licks my face.

“Enough of that,” Cary growls half-heartedly, “you mongrel.”

“He’s adorable,” I say while leaning away from more sloppy tongue action.

“He is supposed to be guarding the gates.”

“Maybe he likes me?” I suggest, smirking.

Cary huffs, “Well, he would be the only one.”

With a loud snap of Cary’s long fingers, Cerby—all three dogs—scrambles to his side. They sit with stiff backs, heads up, awaiting orders.

“As you were.”

As quickly as they came, the Danes sprint back into the shadows.

Giddily, I say, “Can I take one home?”

Cary glares at me. Underneath the narrow blackness of his gaze, I can see amusement starting to crinkle the corners of his eyes.

Inside, the lobby smells of almond, like the unturned pages of old books. Music floats down from the ceiling. I recognize it immediately. Symphony No. 5 by Beethoven, one of my favorites. I never made it far enough in my piano lessons to learn it.

This time, Meli isn’t alone at the front desk.

“There you are!”

A young woman approaches. She’s tall and curvy. Her deep umber skin drinks in the lobby’s warm light. The gold threads in her flowy black dress shimmer. Her face is sparkly too, the glitter around her eyes and nose like constellations against the night sky.

“Thereyouare,” Cary says, the corners of his mouth tilting up.

She stops in front of us. From a distance, she was pretty. Up close, she burns like the heart of a star.

Without another word, she smacks Cary’s chest. It’s a loudcrack. I flinch.