His hands flexed, and for some reason, his body tightened again.

He said, “No.”

FIVE

H

e hadn’t meant to sound so abrupt.

He hadn’t meant anything at all. As he had gathered her meaning, denial had rolled over him, and the word had leaped out before he realized it.

Looking into Beluviel’s beautiful, upturned face in the uncertain light of the moon, he saw that his answer had taken her aback. She blinked and straightened her spine. He could feel the rigidity of her shoulders through the palms of his hands.

He was beginning to recognize her reaction. Whenever adversity struck, she straightened and readied herself to meet it.

He needed to unclench and think of something more coherent to say. Unfortunately, that would require understanding himself more than he did at the moment. Realizing he gripped her too tightly, he forced his fingers to relax.

She said with obvious constraint, “If you need to leave right away, I’m sure I can hire a hansom from Malfeasance.”

Violence flashed through him at the thought of her walking back to that filthy hellhole. He swore under his breath and reined himself in. “I apologize. I meant, no, I’m not going to just drop you off at Grosvenor Square. I will take you to Wembley, if you’ll let me.”

She drew in a breath. Sensing she was about to deny him, he rushed on. “Before you say anything, think about it. I can get you there much faster than anybody other than a Djinn, only I won’t demand a favor from you in return. We can stop at the posting houses along the way to make inquiries. You’ll locate Ferion and Malphas’s estate much faster with me, and besides —”

Besides, I don’t want to leave you just yet.

He caught himself before he said it. He had no business feeling that way, let alone confessing such a thing to her.

Aside from the fact that it was inappropriate in the extreme, a part of him – the part that was all cunning and no conscience – realized that if he said it, she might feel forced to turn down his offer.

He wasn’t prepared to let that happen.

“Besides what?” Her gentle question brought him back to himself.

“It might be best if you had extra protection,” he finished, feeling lame. Then he gained more surety as he thought about it. He told her, “Malphas will not be happy to have us arrive uninvited, but with representatives of two different demesnes, not just one, on his doorstep, it might check his behavior.”

“Are you certain you can leave your sentinel duties for that long?” she asked. “You traveled all the way from New York to attend the masque. I’m sure you must have meetings and social functions on your schedule. Won’t Dragos have need of you?”

He brushed that aside. “Constantine and I have very light duties while we’re here. I won’t be leaving any task that I can’t pick up again once you and I are done.”

“If you do take me, this must be a private arrangement,” she said. “Something just between you and me, not between the Elven and the Wyr demesnes. We must maintain absolute secrecy.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I already promised my discretion on this matter. That extends to the trip to Malphas’s estate.”

“We really could travel so much faster,” she said slowly. “We could return to London faster too. Perhaps I can still find a way to keep this from Calondir’s attention.”

Now that he had said his piece, he waited for her to make her decision.

She gave him a tentative smile. “Yes, thank you. I would be most grateful for your help. I still need to return to the house, so I can change into travel clothes. I want to see if Ferion has left a note. If he did, we might be able to glean information from it. Also, I need to leave further instructions for Alanna and Lianne.”

“I must return to Vauxhall to let Dragos and Constantine know I’ll be leaving London for a short while,” he said. He had another piece of business to attend to, but he would not mention that to her. “I can take you to Grosvenor Square. Then I’ll go to Vauxhall. I’ll need to stop at our rooms at our hotel so I can change, but afterward, I can return for you.”

“That would be marvelous,” she said with such evident relief, he wanted to smile. “In fact, that would be beyond marvelous. Graydon, I don’t know how to convey my deep gratitude.”

“There’s no need, my lady,” he told her. “The fact that I’ve been able to help you is thanks enough.”

He meant it sincerely. He truly did, but the cunning part of him, the conscienceless part, whispered other, less altruistic reasons for what he did.

Getting the chance to spend more time with you, to ease your path, to share a smile or two… To touch you in small ways, your hand, your shoulder, perhaps kiss you again, on the forehead or the cheek. Or the mouth.

No, he did not say it. He shouldn’t have even thought it.

But he did.

He did, and he realized that he was not only fine with keeping all manner of things from Calondir. He began to understand that he was willing to keep any number of things from the rest of the world as well.

He had arrived at a dangerous place. Constantine had been right. Beluviel was the very definition of unattainable, for so very many reasons that Graydon didn’t think he could count that high.

Yet in spite of all of that, he was beginning to develop deep feelings for her. Deeper than mere respect or affection.

Fortunately, this adventure of theirs would be brief, and it had a built-in conclusion. Beluviel would go back to her life, and he would return to his. Perhaps that was why he felt the need to grab onto this experience. This might be the only chance he ever got to share any time with her.

After glancing around at the darkened, deserted street to make sure they were unobserved, he shapeshifted and crouched to assist her in mounting onto his back. Once she had settled firmly at his shoulders, he launched. Lifting his head as he sliced through the air, he relished leaving the heavy urban smell of London below. Her soft, delighted laugh made his soul smile.