“You won’t be doing it alone.”
“I know.” Some of the tension eased from Evander’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
“Save your thanks for when we’re back from Europe in one piece.” The inspector’s dry humour drew a genuine smile. “If we’re leaving in three days, there’s a considerable amount to prepare. And you need to tell Viggo he’s coming with us after all.”
Evander’s smile turned dry. “He’ll be insufferable about it. He’s been insisting for days that he should accompany us should our mission get approved by the Ministry.”
“Insufferable is putting it mildly,” Rufus muttered. “I bet he’ll still be gloating by the time we leave London.”
CHAPTER 6
The back roomsofNightshade’s headquarters smelled of tobacco smoke, old leather, and the faint metallic tang of the Thames that seeped through every crack of the Stepney building above them and the limestone caves housing the information guild.
Viggo leaned his hands on the scarred oak table in the middle of the chamber that had served as their war room for the better part of a decade and studied the map of Liverpool’s docklands spread across it.
“You’re certain about this?” Finn Callaghan asked, his Irish lilt more pronounced than usual. His green eyes flicked up to meet Viggo’s. “Liverpool’s crawling with Marsden’s lot. They won’t take kindly toNightshadesniffing around their operations.”
“Since when have we cared what Marsden thinks?” Viggo said flatly. He tapped a finger on the warehouse district marked in red ink. “TheNoctis Bloomtrade is coming through here. Evander’s investigation proved Renwick and Musgrave were using it in their experiments. We need to know who’s supplying it and where it’s going.”
“And you want me to find out whilst you’re off gallivanting across Europe with your duke.” Finn’s lips stretched in a flinty grin. “Some of us have all the luck.”
“It’s not gallivanting,” Viggo said, unable to mask the defensive note creeping into his voice. “It’s an investigation we’re helping the Met out with. And nothing is set in stone yet.”
“Right. An investigation.” Finn crossed his arms. “With the man you’re shagging. I can’t even begin to imagine the hardship.”
Viggo narrowed his eyes. “Finn?—”
“I’m just saying.” The Irishman waved a hand. “If you’re going to lie to me, at least make it convincing.”
The door behind them creaked open before Viggo could formulate a suitable retort. Solomon entered. He was followed by a figure that made Viggo’s chest tighten with a complicated mix of relief and guilt.
Magnus Graveoak had to duck to fit through the doorway.
At six foot eight, the man was a giant even among Brutes. But it wasn’t his size that caught Viggo’s attention. It was the haunted quality that still lingered in his dark eyes. The way he moved with careful precision, as though testing whether his body would obey him.
Over a month had passed since they’d found him in Scotland Yard’s holding cells, the cursed gem Renwick’s dark magic associates had implanted in his body to control him removed by Evander in an act that had seen the duke reluctantly reveal his Archmage status to the world.
The Brute looked better than he had. Some colour had returned to his olive skin and the tremors that had plagued his hands were less frequent. But Viggo knew recovery from what Magnus had endured would take far longer than a mere month.
“Viggo,” Magnus said with a curt nod. “Solomon said you were briefing Finn on Liverpool.”
“I am.” Viggo straightened and studied his old friend carefully. “You shouldn’t be here. The Met healers said you need rest.”
“I’ve had enough rest.” Magnus’s jaw set in a stubborn line that Viggo recognised all too well. “I want to help.”
“Magnus—”
“I need to do this, Viggo.” The giant’s hands clenched at his sides. “I need to do something useful. Something that matters. I can’t just sit in that room and—” He trailed off and swallowed hard. “Please. Let me go with Finn.”
Finn stiffened at this, his unease clear.
Viggo exchanged a look with Solomon. Though his friend’s expression was carefully neutral, Viggo knew him well enough to read the message there.
Let him try.
“Fine,” Viggo said reluctantly. “But Finn’s in charge. You follow his lead, understood?”
Magnus’s shoulders relaxed fractionally. “Understood.”
