Chapter 11
Wynn released a silent breath of relief as they stepped through a thick layer of magic and into the early morning light.
A quick glance around revealed they were standing on the Victoria Embankment near Blackfriars Bridge.
The smell of the city along with the pungent stench of the nearby Thames hit her with a comforting familiarity.
No matter where she traveled or how long she was gone, London would always be home.
It was in the steady pulse of magic from the powerful Gyre and the ancient sense of belonging that seeped into her soul. As if she’d been a part of this land for countless eons, not a couple of centuries.
Despite the early hour, the morning rush had already started, the sounds a reassuring background noise as Wynn sent her companion a quick glance to make sure he’d toned down his aura.
The nuclear blasts that surrounded him would sound the alarm to every creature in England something dangerous had arrived.
Even if the humans couldn’t see it, the city had a large demon population, not to mention Saxton, the powerful vampire and current Cabal leader of the British Empire.
Once assured they weren’t going to attract unwanted attention, she turned to head toward Farringdon Street.
“Want to tell me who’s threatening to destroy me?” she at last demanded, proud when the words came out steady. She didn’t want to reveal the booming voice had scared the crap out of her.
“Not really.”
She glanced to the side, noting his clenched jaw. He truly didn’t want to tell her. The knowledge did nothing to ease her raw nerves.
“Azh.”
“My mother,” he at last confessed.
Wynn flinched. No wonder he didn’t want to confess the truth. It was bad enough to think that there was some unknown dragon who didn’t want a stranger in the lair. But the fact it was Azh’s mother made it a thousand times worse.
Was she pissed off because there was a stranger in the lair? Or because her son was there with a female who wasn’t a dragon?
The anger thundering in the air had felt personal. As if it was a direct response to Wynn, not just a random intruder.
The thought made her gut twist with a vague sense of dread.
“Your mother. Great.”
Wynn shuddered as they passed by Fleet Street, heading toward Holborn and Shoe Lane.
Long ago this area had been the rookery, overrun with beggars and drunks who weaved their way through the narrow, filthy streets.
On top of the hill she could just make out the square tower of St. Andrew’s church.
The one spot of hope in an otherwise dismal neighborhood.
Over the years the area had been invaded by the middle-class, who ruthlessly bulldozed away the mishmash of wooden structures and the open market where vendors had once stood next to cartloads of fruits, vegetables, and secondhand furniture.
They’d replaced them with cement walkways and sleek new buildings.
Wynn supposed it was an improvement. Crime was down and it smelled a thousand times better, but the vibrant soul had disappeared. A tradeoff that most locals were no doubt prepared to accept.
“Don’t take it personally,” Azh said dryly. “My mother hates everyone. She would kill me if she got the opportunity.”
“Seriously?”
“Dead serious.”
She blinked. His expression warned he wasn’t joking. Weirdly, that made her feel better.
“Why does she hate everyone?”
“Because I have her imprisoned for trying to break the treaty last year. She’s not happy.”
“I used to wonder what it would be like to have a family.”
“Complicated,” he admitted. “But despite my toxic relationship with my mother, I’m devoted to my people. They’re my true family and I will do everything in my power to protect them.”
She shrugged, pretending his words hadn’t scraped against a raw nerve. “Being alone isn’t so bad.”
She could feel the weight of his gaze brush over her, as if he could sense her lie. “No?”
She shrugged. “My mother’s not threatening to kill me.”
“True.”
“Of course, she might have and I don’t remember it.” Reaching the end of the block, Wynn glanced from side to side. “And speaking of not remembering.”
A hot breeze wrapped around Wynn as Azh stepped close, flames coating his clenched fists.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Do you sense something?”
Wynn shook her head. “It’s been years since I was in this neighborhood. It’s changed.” She at last pointed toward the street that sloped up the hill. “It must be this way.”
They walked past glass shop fronts that were surprisingly elegant behind the steel shutters that hadn’t been opened for the day.
When Wynn had spent time in the neighborhood there had been pubs and cheap lodging houses shoved into the cramped spaces, not clothing stores.
And the muddy streets had been clogged with horses, not expensive cars that zoomed past on their way to work.
“The pawnshop was at the end of the street,” she said, shaking away the memories.
It was the gloss of time that made them seem less horrible. There was nothing romantic about standing on the corner begging for food. Or being splattered with mud when a carriage swept past. Not to mention dealing with the locals who would have brutalized her if she’d been a normal human.
She slowed her steps as they reached the corner, feeling a stab of unease.
The pawnshop was still there, or at least, the shell of the pawnshop was still there. The aged stone building was covered in black soot and the windows had been shattered. Even the heavy wooden door hung at a wonky angle, as if some power had tried to rip it from its hinges.
Had there been a fire? An explosion? A magical attack?
A steel barrier had been placed in front of the building, with large signs warning trespassers they would be fined or even imprisoned. A little over the top, she silently acknowledged, considering the place was a dump.
She assumed that it had been put there by the authorities to prevent anyone from dying when the building collapsed.
“I wouldn’t get any closer if I was you,” a voice warned from behind them.
The fact that Azh hadn’t warned her there was danger approaching assured her that it must be a human.
She glanced over her shoulder at the young woman dressed in a narrow black skirt and sleeveless white sweater. Her dark hair was smoothed from her pale, oval face and her dark eyes were emphasized by her false eyelashes.
She had the look of an ambitious human on her way up the corporate ladder.
Wynn concentrated on the magic inside her, tapping into the pale-rose strand.
Once she felt the familiar tingles she weaved a spell to change her identity.
Gone were her blond hair and lavender eyes.
Instead she was hidden behind an illusion of a sophisticated, older woman with silver hair pulled into a bun and wearing a beige trench coat.
The sort of woman who would be employed in the elegant neighborhood.
Moving around Azh, she stood directly in front of the human, at the same time releasing a small spell of compulsion. It wouldn’t force the woman to do anything against her will, but it would encourage her to talk.
“What happened?” Wynn asked.
“The official report was an explosion caused by a gas leak, but most people around here think it was an insurance scam.”
“You believe the owners did this on purpose?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “They were super creepy and the other business owners were constantly turning them in to the authorities for not keeping their building up to code.” She glanced toward the building with a visible shudder. “This is actually an improvement.”
Wynn wasn’t surprised the neighborhood had been disgusted by Axton.
He was rude, crude, and easily provoked to violence.
Unfortunately for them, he had enough royal demon blood to make sure he was protected by the most powerful clans in the city.
He could run his ratty pawnshop, so long as he didn’t offend Saxton.
“I didn’t hear anything about it. When did it happen?”
The woman’s gaze started to swing back to Wynn only to be captured by Azh standing behind her.
Wynn heard the poor girl’s strangled gasp as she tried to absorb his shocking beauty.
She sympathized. Even after spending a few days in his company she was still knocked off balance whenever she caught sight of him.
Wynn cleared her throat. “Do you remember when the explosion happened?”
With an effort, the woman forced herself to answer the question, although her bemused gaze remained locked on Azh.
“It must have been over year now.”
A year? A chill inched down Wynn’s spine. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Not when her dreams started at the same time.
“Do you know if they moved the pawnshop to a new location?”
“I think they took off. Probably to a place they can’t be extradited.”
“Why do you say that?”
The woman slowly peeled her gaze from Azh to send Wynn a warning frown.
“The site is toxic. Anyone who goes in there comes out sick.”
“Like radiation?”
“I’ve heard radiation. If you ask me, I think it is some sort of nasty residue from illegal weapons.
Everyone suspected that shop was a front for the drug cartel.
Or worse. Whatever it is must be bad,” she added.
“Not even the authorities will go in there. If my job didn’t pay so well I’d never come back to this street.
” The woman reached into her designer purse to pull out a key fob, directing it toward the glass door of the luxury leather goods shop. “Gotta go or I’ll be late.”
“Thanks.”
Wynn waited while the woman gave Azh one last longing glance before disappearing into the store next door. Then, releasing her illusion, she turned back to study the pawnshop.
“Do you sense anything?” Azh asked as he stepped toward the metal barrier.
Wynn shuddered. The shields she’d woven into her coat protected her from the waves of magic that battered against her, but she could still sense them.