Would I?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. The words feel stupidly inadequate, but they’re all I have to offer.
Silas doesn’t say anything, but when I crane my neck to look at him, I can see that he’s watching me with something in his black eyes—sadness, yes, but also love. “They would have loved you, Boots,” he says quietly, and presses a kiss to the crown of my head.
Nothing more needs to be said.
“So what does a shifter community even look like?” Shade asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How will we even know it when we see it?”
“Caleb said we would recognise it,” Hunter says, although he sounds doubtful.
“And we’re supposed to trust him?” The wolf shifter snorts, shaking his head. “I still think we should’ve killed those bastards while we had the chance. Now they know where we’re going. Who’s going to stop them from siccing Hawthorne’s guys on us the second we let our guard down?”
“Hawthorne’s too smart for that,” Silas replies. “He knows we’ll have the advantage if we’re with others of our kind. That’s why he’s leaving it up to Edith to take these groups down.”
“Guess we’ll just have to hope they’ve been practising,” Landon says.
We’ve been walking for about twenty minutes and are now on the outskirts of Oxford; the river Thames stretches out alongside us as we make our way north, towards the Osney B ridge, and the water looks frigid and tempestuous. Rather appropriate, if you ask me. All along either side of the road are stately manor homes along with newer apartment buildings, creating a strange clash of old and modern that I can’t quite wrap my head around.
Staying close to the pedestrian walkway, we follow the road up and over the blue and white bridge, a few cars puttering past us as we go. It’s still too early for there to be a lot of traffic, but there’s enough to put me on edge, and judging by the guys’ expressions, I’m not the only one. I don’t really let myself relax until after we’re across, no longer exposed above the river, as the road slopes downward again along the opposite bank.
“Silas?” I ask gently, aware that this is a delicate subject for the dragon shifter. “Any idea what we should be looking for?”
Silas pauses, brow furrowing as he peers around at the banks of buildings. “We lived in the suburbs,” he says at last. “Obviously we couldn’t be too overt about it, considering most humans don’t even know shifters exist. Then there was the Academy to worry about; we couldn’t exactly flaunt our magic.”
Landon frowns. “So you’re saying… what, there’s some kind of secret sign?”
“For us, it was an enchantment,” Silas replies as we make our way down the street, the wind ruffling our hair. “Something one of the resident witches set up. To humans, it was invisible, but shifters could see the real name of the community on the gate.”
“Keep your eyes peeled,” I say. “It could be anywhere around here.” What I don’t say, but I’m sure the others have figured out, is that if we can track this place down, then it should be no problem for Edith. The possibility that she’s already taken the whole district out crosses my mind, but I don’t allow myself to consider it for more than a moment. I’ve had enough disappointments in the last few days to last a lifetime.
We lapse into silence as we pick our way through the area, peering down alleyways and side streets, on the lookout for anything that might jump out at us. For a while, we find nothing, and I’m just starting to lose hope when I hear a triumphant cry from behind us.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Hunter standing back, looking up at the side of an enormous luxury apartment building. “I think I’ve got something,” he says, beckoning the rest of us over.
We gather around him and follow his gaze to the brownstone wall around the corner from the entrance. At first, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary other than a splash of faded graffiti that looks like it was scrubbed off a long time ago. It’s only as I stare up at it that it morphs and shifts before my eyes, the colourful block letters transforming from an indecipherable mess into a series of five pictographs: a moon, a stylised pentagram, a minimalistic flame, a wave, and a droplet of blood.
“Subtle,” Shade says approvingly. “Not bad.”
“No sense waiting around,” Landon says. “Come on, I’m freezing my ass off.”
The rest of us don’t need to be told twice and follow the siren shifter back around to the front entrance. An old-fashioned revolving door leads us into a posh lobby, complete with immaculate seating, tapestries on the walls, and a doorman who eyes us suspiciously as he watches us pass.
If we were lucky at Caleb and Jennifer’s place, that luck has just run out; almost as soon as we’re inside, an older gentleman sitting at the security desk gets to his feet. “Excuse me,” he says, “may I ask what your business is here?”
I take the lead, just grateful to be out of the cold for a few minutes. “To be honest, we’re not really sure,” I reply as we approach the desk. “We’re—” I pause, look around, and then lower my voice. If this is the wrong place… “We saw the mural outside,” I say pointedly. “The… the special one.”
The security guard gives me a thin smile. “I’m sorry, madam, but I don’t know what you mean.”
So much for subtlety. I decide to switch tactics. “Does the name Hawthorne mean anything to you?”
It’s a gamble, and judging by the man’s reaction, a mistake. “I think you had better leave,” he says in a low voice, his eyes sweeping over our little group. And is it just me, or did they flash red for a moment there?
“It’s not that,” Hunter hastens to put in. “I mean, we’re not with him. We’re here with a warning. Hawthorne has his sights on us, and by the sounds of it, he has his sights on you guys, too.”
“Get out.” The security guard’s tone has lost all civility. “We don’t want or need whatever kind of attention you’re trying to bring to us.”
That’s all the confirmation I need. “Please,” I insist, leaning forward. “We have nowhere else to go. Hawthorne has people all over London, and by the sounds of it, his people are targeting groups just like yours. If we could just speak to someone your leader, maybe? Who’s in charge around here?”
The older man’s skin blanches at that, and when he opens his mouth to speak again, I catch a glimpse of fangs. Wasn’t mistaken about the eyes, then. “Get. Out,” he hisses, “before I have someone remove you.”
I can feel myself growing more desperate. “Please,” I implore him again. “We have nowhere else to go.”
“That’s hardly our concern,” the security guard says. I’m aware of the sound of the elevator doors chiming, but don’t look away.
“Come on,” Shade says in a surly voice. “Leave them to Edith, if that’s what they want.”
“Edith?” The sound of a familiar voice finally pulls my attention away. The elevator doors stand open and holding them is someone I was beginning to think I would never see again.