“That’s rich, coming from you,” Zara said.
“She has a point,” Bishop added quietly.
Sera snorted. “We’ll try to stick to necessaryandstupid.”
“That’s better,” I grinned.
Logan clasped Elias’s forearm and murmured something low that I didn’t catch. Magnus thumped my shoulder hard enough to make my teeth rattle and muttered, “Keep an eye on your girl.”
“We’ll send word,” Sera said, stepping back onto the gangplank. “If you don’t hear from us for too long…”
“We’ll come looking,” Tamsin said.
“Didn’t doubt it,” Sera replied.
Zara waved as her wolves moved quickly, untying ropes, and readying to make way. The boats eased away from the docks, and we stood and watched until they were small shapes against the gray water, heading in different directions—one toward the Isle of Man, the other angling further west for Ireland.
The quay felt bigger once they were gone.
Quieter.
Colder, maybe. Or maybe that was just the wind picking up.
Tamsin gave one final wave and then turned back toward the city and started walking.
We fell into step around her without needing to coordinate, Elias on one side, me on the other, Nox a few paces ahead scanning the way, Eamon and Bishop behind us, talking in low voices about clinic locations and record-keeping.
People watched us as we moved through the streets, but it wasn’t the same flat fear as before. Some looks were wary, some resentful, some curious. A few, here and there, even looked grateful.
We passed a pair of men walking on the sidewalk. One wore a patchy coat and carried a toolbox; the other had a bandage on his neck that looked fresh. They paused when they saw us, straightened unconsciously, and gave us an appreciative nod before continuing on their walk.
It was strange to think of this city as our new home.
London had always been the problem at the edge of the map, the place that made rules everyone else had to suffer under.
Now it was just… where we were.
Where we’d chosen to stay.
By the time we reached the building Mirae had given us as a more permanent base—a three-story structure near the river with thick walls and decent bones—the light was going gold at the edges, sinking behind towers and chimneys. Someonehad already scrubbed the front step. A new lock gleamed on the door.
Inside, the first floor still smelled like old dust and fresh soap. The second had been roughly divided into offices and meeting rooms. The third held a massive bed that was big enough for all six of us to stretch out on and then some.
Tamsin shrugged out of her coat and dropped it over the back of a chair.
“Bed,” Elias said.
“I should?—”
“Bed, Tam,” I said, softer. “London will still be here in the morning.”
She huffed in mock annoyance. “My bossy wolves,” she murmured.
We took that as a yes.
She climbed up to the third floor and stretched out on the bed without ceremony, boots kicked off to the side, hair spilling loose over the pillow. For a second, she tried to stay propped up on one elbow, listening to Bishop and Eamon argue quietly about shelving in the next room, to Nox humming tunelessly as he checked the window latches.
Her body had other ideas though.
