Blake snorted. Flynn launched into a long diatribe about the difference between the Irish and Scottish that had Kelly in giggles.
I glanced across at Arthur, my sole “boyfriend” while Kelly was around. The corners of his mouth turned up. So far so good, right? Kelly had only been inside the apartment for ten minutes and I’d already told so many lies I could run Trump’s Twitter feed. Keeping this secret from her wasn’t going to be easy.
But what choice did I have?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
FLYNN
Maeve had taken Mr. Serious (I quite liked Blake’s Mussolini nickname, actually, but I think Corbin would throttle me if I made that one stick) to meet the leader of the Soho coven, which meant the rest of us were on entertain-the-sister duty. Which was going to be difficult, considering Arthur was being even more sullen than usual (although he seemed to have perked up recently. Having a sixsome with Maeve and your closest mates tended to put a smile on one’s dial) and Rowan wouldn’t look her in the face. Jane had her hands full with Connor, and Blake kept saying weird things that made it clear he’d never lived in human society before.
Luckily, I was a world-class entertainer. The Flynnmeister to the rescue once again. I’d make sure Kelly enjoyed her time in England if it killed me. After everything she’d been through, the girl deserved to have some fun. And fun was about all I was good for.
I sure couldn’t do anything to save all those innocent people from dying. All the jokes in the world couldn’t bring them back or make it okay. But Maeve needed Kelly distracted, so the king of distraction was here to serve.
“Where are we going?” Kelly asked as I shoved everyone out the door of the flat and down to the Camden Town Tube station. “Can we go to Buckingham Palace first? Let’s go everywhere, just leave out all the boring stuff.”
“Your wish is my command. One whirlwind London tour, coming right up!”
I checked my watch as we crowded onto the Tube. We were much too late for the changing of the guard, but the palace was still a great site. It wouldn’t be as crowded now, and it would be a quick stop on the way to our second destination.
“It’s the palace!” Kelly cried as she raced across the street to stand with the small crowd outside the iron gates.
“Good guess. This is where they keep the King.” I gestured to the security around the gates, ordering people back when they got too close to the Beefeaters. “They got all this security because no one wants Old Charles getting out and about. He’s a bit forgetful, you see – forgivable at his age, since he’s exactly two hundred and forty-three years old, and the palace has seven hundred and seventy-five rooms, so if he takes a wrong turn on the way to the loo she ends up in another postcode. And if he gets outside, it takes themagesto find him and lure him back inside. I’ve seen them out here at night, holding their torches and rummaging around in the bushes for him. They wave big wads of cash around on sticks to coax him back inside. He loves money. Sometimes, if it’s a quiet day and you listen really hard, you can hear him squealing as he swims around in his giant pool of money. Fun fact for when you come back: on Valentine’s Day Charles operates a kissing booth. Just be careful you don’t try to get out of paying because he keeps a brick in his pocket and he ain’t afraid to use it.”
“Jesus, Flynn.” Arthur groaned. “You’re going to give our guest the completely wrong idea about this country.”
“Hey, who’s running the tour here? Kelly specifically asked me to leave out the boring stuff.”
Kelly laughed. “Thank you for obliging. You’re much better at this than Maeve. She’d be yammering on about all the scientists the King’s given money to, and all their achievements, and why exactly she agrees and disagrees with their theories, and before I know it I’ve fallen asleep on one of those guys with the funny hats and I’m in a world of trouble.”
Maeve.Just hearing her name made me think about how drawn her face was, how much she hated lying to her sister and being away from the castle when the fae were so close. She wanted desperately to find a way to stop them. I know she was turning the information from Clara over and over in her head, thinking about how she would have to die in order to stop the Slaugh.
Maeve is not going to sacrifice herself.
It wasn’t going to happen, we couldn’t let it. There had to be another way. But how to find it?
I felt so helpless. I had nothing to contribute except stupid comments and fake city tours. I had to stand aside and let Maeve and Corbin figure that out, and it made me feel sick to my stomach.
Nothing I did could ever be enough to keep her. It was just the same as before. I could make her laugh, but when she was facing this horrible fate, what good did that do? What good could I possibly do?
It was just as well I kept my distance. It was hard enough seeing her stumble and being helpless to stop it. If I got too close?—
“Tell me more about this King of yours,” Blake grinned, punching me in the arm and bringing me back from my dark thoughts. I plastered a smile on my face and gestured to the nearest sentry.
“Here you’ll find a member of the King’s Guard, a fully operational soldier charged with guarding the King’s residences in London. At eleven am each day, the guards change places in one of the greatest mysteries of the British Empire: Changing the Guard. The bells ring and they swap ‘em out. Where do they go? What do they do? What is under those massive hats? Nobody knows. My theory is they go off to charge their batteries. The guards are called Beefeaters because of their quite legendary ability to maintain a grudge, or ‘beef,’ with tourists who stop to wave in their faces and make them break character. One time I saw this couple run up to try and take a selfie and the King himself came out and hit them with a brick. True story.”
“They’renotcalled Beefeaters,” Arthur corrected. “This is the King’s Guard. The beefeaters are the Yeoman Wardens who guard the Tower of London and give the tours and look after the ravens?—”
I waved a hand in front of his face. “Details, details. Now, let’s move on before Arthur turns into Corbin and gives us a fascinating lecture about the production process for the King’s favourite type of brick.” I turned to Kelly. “Where to next? Saint Paul’s Cathedral? The Tower of London? The British Museum?”
Kelly wrinkled her nose. “No museums. Besides, Maeve will kill me if I go to a museum without her. She needs someone to listen to her rants about inaccurate science displays.”
Arthur’s face darkened at the mention of Maeve. Rowan stared at his feet. Even Blake – who I expected to be at least excited to be out and about in the city – looked off in another world. They were all thinking what I was thinking, that Maeve was trying to find a way to save the world and we weren’t with her.
“Rightio, Tower of London it is. Follow me!”
I marched everyone to the Tower, determined that I’d find some way to distract them all from their ugly thoughts. Because nothing took one’s mind off the horrors of an impending fae invasion like learning how human beings love to torture each other.
