Sebastian buried his face in his hands. “If I can just find enough magic—if I can bring Mateo back myself, I can also stay with you—”
“You absolutenob.” Wesley should shake some damn sense into Sebastian, except part of him now felt aggravatingly soft because the beautiful idiot apparently had not even considered that abandoning Wesley was an option. “You don’t have to choose between protecting me or saving your brother or draining yourself to the bone to save us both. I’ll come with you, to Paris or wherever you need to take him.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “But that’s such a big ask—a bigchange—”
“Then how lucky for me that a handsome man recently informed me even viscounts can change.”
Something vulnerable crossed Sebastian’s face. And then, hidden in the backseat of the car he grabbed Wesley’s tie and pulled him down for a desperate, exhausted kiss so full of affection and gratitude that it lit Wesley all the way into his chest.
The kiss only lasted a heartbeat, too short and private for anyone to have seen. Then Sebastian pulled back and whispered, “You’re a saint.”
Wesley wanted to grab him right back into his arms. “Nonsense,” he said gruffly, instead. “I’m just another scoundrel.”
“Maybe,” Sebastian said. “But you make me believe in good again.”
“Oh,” Wesley said weakly, and touched his still-tingling lips.
Chapter Fourteen
After the paranormals had a discussion that Wesley could barely follow, full of magical terminology and some very grim tones, Jade and Zhang decided to return to Blanshard’s manor.
“I hate leaving you three,” Jade said, with frustration.
“I hate leaving you two,” Sebastian said, just as frustrated. “But we may only have hours left before Blanshard returns. If you and Zhang can get the stolen magical items out of that trophy room, you’ll be doing the entire paranormal world a service.”
“And you need to get to your cousin, because your brother has no time to lose,” Jade said. “We’ll send a telegram ahead to Miss de Leon, and then follow to Paris as soon as we can.”
“Be careful,” said Sebastian.
“You too,” echoed Zhang.
Wesley left the Bentley with Zhang and the keys to his manor with Jade, and then managed to get a first-class compartment on the next train to London. The brothers sat together on the same velvet seat like bookends, Mateo in the corner, his head resting against the window, and Sebastian, who couldn’t keep using his magic in a full train, fast asleep on the other side since nearly the instant he’d sat down.
As the train pulled away from the station, Wesley rang the porter for a newspaper and a private dinner service for three to be brought as soon as possible to their compartment. Then he pulled their curtains firmly shut, locked the door, and took his own seat across from the de Leon brothers.
He’d been reading his newspaper for only a few minutes when he felt a gaze on him. He looked up, over the paper, to see Mateo watching him through heavy-lidded eyes.
The other man’s voice was just audible over the steady rhythm of the train barreling down the tracks. “I still don’t know who you are.”
So he did talk, not just prophesize. Sebastian had said Mateo was supposed to be at university in America. Wesley could easily picture him on a campus, carrying books, writing notes in the library. Except, of course, the part where he could see the fucking future.
Regardless, he certainly looked young enough to be in school, except without the naiveté Wesley expected of twenty-two-year-olds who hadn’t seen war. No, Mateo de Leon looked like he’d seen plenty, and like he didn’t trust Wesley one bit.
Sebastian was still sound asleep in the other corner of their seat. Wesley took off his monocle and set his newspaper to the side, addressing Mateo directly. “The Viscount Fine. I’m an acquaintance of your brother’s.”
Mateo snorted. “Anacquaintanceof my brother’s, but you’re coming with us all the way to Paris? Try again.”
“What reason would I have to lie?”
“The last English aristocrat I met lied to me and more,” Mateo said flatly. “So forgive me for needing more than your flimsy pretexts.”
“Fair enough,” Wesley muttered. More loudly, he said, “I want no harm to come to your brother. Does that satisfy you?”
“Hmph.” Mateo shifted his head against the window. “I recognize you, you know. I saw your future.”
Wesley raised his eyebrows before he could stop himself.
“I saw that prick Jack Mercier try to burn you alive,” Mateo said. “I couldn’t see what happened after that, but clearly it didn’t work. You don’t seem to be a paranormal yourself, though, so how did you escape?”
