“Not tonight. I’m going to find Iris and get her home. She’s had a long day. We can start early tomorrow.”
Henry watched Finn for a long moment. He wasn’t accustomed to Finn making the rules and setting the pace. Usually, trusting Henry like he did, Finn allowed him to hold the reins.
Just this once, though, he was going to put his foot down.
He was going to find Iris.
The problem was, she was nowhere to be found.
Not at the town hall venue.
Not at the bookstore.
Not at any of the hot pretzel carts.
Not in the pool or penthouse.
Minutes ticked to hours as Finn’s anxiety grew. It wasn’t like her to be out late. She was getting used to the city, but not enough to feel comfortable out alone at night.
And she was alone.
He’d spoken to Selene, Willow, and Arden. No one had seen her.
Had she gone out with someone from the town hall?
Had it been that werewolf she’d been staring at?
His stomach coiled, but he forced himself not to let those thoughts take root.
He needed to focus on finding her, not on what she was potentially doing. Or with whom.
It was the darkest part of night when he heard a rattle at the penthouse door, shocking him out of a near sleep that left him feeling more disoriented than before.
“Iris?” he called, jumping off the couch.
“Alas, no. It’s not the stunning sea wench,” Monty called. He waddled in with a wing holding several swagbags, like he’d attended multiple events in one night. And, given his social-ladder-climbing ways, he probably had. “She probably went out for coffee. Or a pretzel.”
“No, Monty. She’s been gone all night.”
“All night?” he asked, some of his usual lightness falling away.
“We were at the town hall together. But she disappeared. I haven’t seen her since.”
“You mean to tell me that a sweet, sheltered stranger to the land is lost in this sprawling metropolis and there isn’t a swarm of police in this apartment? Where are the federal agents? The National Guard?”
“Monty, I get the panic. Really, I do. But I need you to focus. Try to figure out where she might have gone. I’ve checked the usual places.”
“Was she feeling particularly tide-turned?”
“What does tide-turned mean?”
“Moody. Off.”
His mind flashed back to her face when she’d come out of the bathroom.
“Maybe. Yes. Yeah, definitely. Why?”
“She may have gone to the closest body of water, then. To clear her head. I’ll go see if I can track down some gulls and ask,” he said. He dropped his bags then moved toward the door. “You stay here.”
