Chapter 43
Blair
“I’m really sorry,” I say for the tenth time. “I thought I saw someone.” I hold the cup of tea out for Fenwick to take.
“No worries, lass.” He takes the cup and downs it like a shot, then puts it on the table.
“You might have. We couldn’t pick up a scent or a trail, but with the rain, it doesn’t mean there wasn’t someone there.
The car will be here soon, and you can put some distance behind you.
” He picks up the teacup and takes it to the kitchen.
I sit on the sofa next to Zion. “Let’s not tell Sterling.”
“That’s a great idea in theory and one I’m sure we’re all thinking about, but the king sent him with us for a reason. If there was someone there, not telling Sterling could endanger you. And as much of an ass as he can be, he’s good at his job.”
“You’re right. It wouldn’t be right to keep something like this from him—”
“Keep what from who? Me?” Sterling asks, coming into the cottage without knocking.
My eyes go wide, and my heart squeezes.
“No one—that’s the point,” Zion says, sauntering to the door. “Delmar and Fenwick searched the property. Blair saw something out the side window, but they couldn’t pick up a trail.”
“Where?” Sterling growls.
“That way.” I point to the side yard that’s outside the bathroom window.
Ten minutes later, Sterling returns, his wet clothes plastered to his side. There’s a man behind him trying to hold his umbrella over Sterling's head.
“Car’s here,” Sterling growls. He grabs the man’s umbrella, closes it, and hands it back to him. “We’ll be out in a minute.” He closes the door in the driver’s face.
“Did you find anything?” Zion asks, picking up two of our bags.
“How could I when you stomped over everything that might have given me any information?”
Zion nods, but he doesn't sell out Delmar or Fenwick. “Well, we’re on our way now. Thanks Fenwick. Anything you want from London?”
“No, there’s nothing there I could ever want or need.” He inclines his head to us, and we’re on our way.
Sterling’s in the front with the driver, making little grandma disapproving noises anytime he thinks the driver’s gone too close to a curb or pushed a yellow light.
I’m in the back, Delmar on one side, Zion on the other.
I’ve never been to England, and it’s really charming so far from what I’ve seen.
But it’s even more fun watching Delmar experience land and human culture for the first time.
He takes my hand and squeezes. “Look at that, Blair.” He points at a cat and leans back for me to see out the window.
The car stops in front of a luxury hotel. The two back doors open at the same time. Doormen in expensive suits helps us out.
“Sterling, this isn’t my apartment,” Zion says, hopping out of the car.
“No, your apartment has been compromised.” Sterling takes all three bags over his shoulder.
I slide out, and Delmar takes my hand.
“Allow me, sir,” a bellman says to him.
Sterling glares.
“Thank you,” Zion says to the man. “What do you mean by ‘compromised?’”
“Blair saw something. That means our plan is known. We need to switch things up. I know you like nice places. This is a nice place.” Sterling waves at the marquee, which reads Saint Redford London.
“This looks like the kind of place that I can’t afford to even look at.” I laugh.
Delmar squeezes my hand. “Its value will go up once you step into the lobby.”
My insides squish around. I’m not used to a guy being that kind to me. Letting go of my self-deprecating behavior is going to be hard. “Thank you.”
Delmar leads me inside the lobby, and while he’s as wide-eyed as I am, I know he’s looking out for me at the same time.
“Go check us in,” Sterling barks at Zion.
There’s a silent warfare going on with their glares. But Zion strides across the lobby and checks us in.
“Ready,” Zion says, back in fewer minutes than it takes me to get my bearings in the room. “Are you doing okay?” he asks in the elevator.
“Yup. It’s not all elevators, only glass ones.”
“Wait here,” Sterling says, leaving us in the hall while he enters the hotel room. “It’s clear.”
“You just booked it. Of course it’s clear.” Zion holds the door for me. “Good job, though. I didn’t think you had it in you, getting something so nice.”
“I have contacts, ones that I trust. The larger bed is to the right. I’ll be sleeping on the sofa close to the door. They’ll be bringing dinner up. And then I’ve arranged for a personal shopper to—”
“A what?” Delmar asks.
“Why would I need that?” I add.
“Because you can’t just walk around the streets.” Sterling crosses his arms over his chest.
I raise my eyebrows at him. “I don’t know what I saw at the Fenwick’s cottage.
But do you really think I need to be sequestered in this room?
It’s a lovely room, but . . . even a room this lovely doesn’t compare to walking around a city.
” I could say I wouldn’t have come if I’d known this is what would happen, but that’s not true.
Going on an adventure is always worth the risk.
At least, that’s what my grandmother used to say.
I was all in, regardless. But I don’t want anything to happen.
“We’ll be careful,” Zion says.
“I will protect Blair with everything I have. You know that,” Delmar adds.
Sterling’s judgmental eyes flick over the lot of us. “They can find everything you need without you leaving the comfort of your hotel room. No need to walk anywhere,” he says like an ad for the shopper.
“That’s just it. I want to walk around and see the city for myself. Delmar does too.”
“Delmar can walk around and come back and describe it to you.”
“You know that’s not what she wants,” Zion says.
“Sometimes you can’t get what you want, only what you need. Which is what this shopper will do for you.”
“You can’t always get . . .” I sing, and the three of them stop and stare at me.
“You sing well,” Delmar says.
“Indeed,” Zion agrees.
“I don’t know about that.”
“What was that song?” Delmar asks.
“It’s by the—” I stop myself because I’m about to enter Abbott and Costello's famous Who's on First routine. “A band. A British band. I want to go out. Please, Sterling?” I put my hand on his forearm and give him what I hope are puppy dog eyes. Perhaps a bit childish when he’s looking out for my safety. “You can’t wrap me in bubble wrap.”
“A bubble net would not work on land,” he growls.
“Bubble wrap—it means you have to let me move a bit, breathe, and unfortunately make my own mistakes.”
“No mistakes.”
“Right, no mistakes. But I will be on alert, as will Zion and Delmar. And you’ll be with us, right?”
“Yes, I’ll be with you,” Sterling says.
“I can’t imagine anything happening.” I cock my head to the side.
The streets are crowded when we get out of the car near the Tower of London.
It’s something I’ve always wanted to see.
And while Sterling doesn’t want us to go in, it’s still interesting walking near the river.
There are tons of restaurants and shops.
We even pass Shakespeare’s Globe theater.
I do my best to explain Shakespeare to them, but they’re not picking up on how important he is to literature.
It’s still odd to me how they are missing anything that’s for pure entertainment from their culture.
The sun has dipped low in the sky, and there are more people around now. Enough that the tension rolls off Sterling in waves.
I stop by a silly T-shirt that says Execution? So dramatic. I just ghost people. And there’s a cute drawing of the Tower of London with a ghost in Renaissance clothing holding a phone. It’s so silly, but Marlee would love it.
I look up, and Zion and Delmar have walked on.
Sterling is behind me but a good ten yards back, like he’s taking in the whole forest of people, scanning each one of them.
I back away from the shirt, holding it out, and a tall, muscular man bumps into me.
My head twists, and I hold his dark brown eyes. He’s big, shifter big.
A shiver runs through me. “Excuse me,” I say and step toward the vendor’s cash register.
“Blair?” Sterling calls from the other side of the kiosk.
The male inclines his head and slides down an alley.
“Did you see that man?” I ask Sterling as he moves to my side.
“No.” Sterling whips around.
“He went down the alley,” I say.
Sterling takes a step away from me but then stops. “Shopping’s over. We’re going back.” At that moment I’m not sure if he means back to the voyager or back to the Saint Redford.
We end up back at the hotel. Back in the room without my silly T-shirt.
We eat dinner in the room, and afterward I’m sitting on the sofa, my head on Delmar’s shoulder.
“Are you having a good time?” Delmar asks.
It’s something else I’m not used to: having a guy check in with me.
Not assuming that I like the same things he does.
Did I like duck hunting? No. Sitting in silence in nature with the dogs wasn’t bad.
The killing the ducks part . . . But not once in seventeen years did my ex ask me if I was having a good time.
Because he was, so obviously I was, too.
I made sure my face said I was, because the aftermath wasn’t worth it.
“We’ll do more tomorrow. I think we should go into the Tower of London. I would like to see the Crown Jewels,” Delmar says.
“I want to come with you,” says Zion, “but I have to work. But I want to hear all about it afterwards. Sterling, come talk to me in the other room.”
The two of them have a not so quiet chat. They emerge ten minutes later.
“We’ve found more security to help you on your private tour of the Tower,” Zion says.
“Really? That’s fantastic.” I jump up and give him a big hug.
We’re up before the sun rises for our private tour. The four of us make our way to the lobby, and when Zion gets into the car with us, I’m more than a little shocked. “I thought you had to go to work today?”
“I do, but it’s early and I thought I could drop you off. The car will come back and wait for you.”
“Oh, that’s perfect.”
When the car stops in front of the Tower, I kiss Zion goodbye for the day. It feels oddly domestic.
“Wait here,” Sterling says to Delmar and myself. “The company I hired is meeting us on the other corner.”
Delmar and I watch the traffic going over Tower Bridge.
It’s already getting busy, but we don’t move.
Soon Sterling’s back with five shifter-looking security guards.
When we get inside the Tower, I must look like someone important, because I’m getting stared at.
Or rather, the six beefy guys are getting stared at.
We see the Crown Jewels—which are more impressive than I expected—tons of suits of armor, and the chapel where some unfortunate royals saw their last service before being beheaded.
Our tour over, the crowds have tripled, but the gift shop is now open.
“I’d like to get something for Marlee.” I cock my head at Sterling.
“Fine.”
The narrow shop is built into the wall of the Tower.
It’s cramped and full of tourists, even though it’s early.
I hold up a paperweight to show Delmar, but he’s not next to me.
It’s okay. But somehow I’ve lost all six of them.
I step out of the shop onto the sidewalk, craning my neck left and right.
A hand snatches my arm, and a male pulls himself close to me.
“Stop,” I snap.
He pulls me closer.
“Who are you?”
He’s a shifter, for sure. Merman, most likely. “I’m your future,” he barks, dragging me toward a car.
Inside the car, there are two more men.
“I don’t think so.” I straighten my arms and legs out as wide as I can to keep him from tucking me into the car. Not again. Really, how many times can one gal be kidnapped? I’m not letting it happen. “Fire!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Fire, fire, fire!”
The busy crowd around me slows, and people come toward me. A construction worker yells, “Get away from her, you wanker!” He lifts his hammer out of his tool belt.
At the same time, a woman my age rushes over, her long black umbrella out like the horn of a unicorn; she rams it at the male like a jousting rod.
My assailant tightens his hold on my arm as he pushes at the construction worker.
The construction worker is swinging his hammer away at any part of the shifter’s body he can reach.
And umbrella lady has taken up my mantle and is screaming, “Fire,” louder than I was.
A few more people have crowded around, though no one else is in the melee. Until I look up and Sterling’s there. Rage flashes in his eyes. My attacker lets go of my arm, and I take the opportunity to sprint to the sidewalk with the umbrella lady at my side.
“Holy shit, he’s huge,” she says. “And fast and really, really angry.” She turns toward me as I’m watching Sterling make quick work of the three males in the car. Sirens of a different cadence than I’m used to make their way toward us. “He’s a friend of yours. Isn’t he?”
I nod.
“Your husband?”
I shake my head.
“Well, this is definitely personal to him.” She bends her neck, tilting her head sideways to see under the open car door, where Sterling is mangling one male with his boot and the other with his fist.
Delmar rushes out of the shop. “Blair.” He pulls me to his chest. “You okay?”
I’m going to have a nice bruise on my wrist, but all in all I’m okay. “Yes,” I say. I’m not sure
Zion kisses the top of my head and heads over to Sterling as the police arrive, a trio of beefeaters, and the rest of our security team.