The flight was another short one. Soon, he spiraled down toward the park at Grosvenor Square. It was one of the most affluent and fashionable areas of the city. Telltale sparks of Power dotted the neighborhood. Several magic users were in the vicinity.

Taking care to keep a good distance from them, he landed near a large old oak tree. She slid from his back. He told her telepathically, I’ll be quick.

Thank you. Her gaze flashed up to his. I will too.

Meet me in this spot when you’re ready, he said.

Yes. She paused and unexpectedly stroked her fingers down the feathers of his neck.

He froze. She couldn’t know how intimate that seemed, or how sensitive he was to her touch even through the sleek covering of eagle feathers. Pleasure at being petted ran down his spine.

He should say something or step away. He did neither. Instead, ever so slightly, he leaned into her touch.

It was wrong of him, but his wrong button seemed to be broken, and he didn’t care.

When she stepped away, for a moment, he felt bereft. He lingered long enough to watch her stride toward one of the houses that contained several sparks of Power.

As she left, it became harder for him to see her. Within a few more steps, she disappeared completely from sight, and he realized she had a serious talent of her own for cloaking.

With no further excuse to linger, he turned away and launched again, heading back to Vauxhall and the masque.

This time, without Beluviel, he didn’t care if he was observed. He landed inside the Gardens, shapeshifted and took a main path that led to the dancing area.

Midnight had come, and everyone had removed their masks. Quickly, he strode past several groups of drunken partygoers as he searched for Weston.

He found the earl in close conversation with a striking redheaded woman dressed as Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom. Walking past the couple, he said telepathically, Weston, forgive me for interrupting. May I have a word?

Of course, replied the other male. Give me one moment.

While Weston made his excuses to his companion, Graydon wandered over to the refreshment area. The cocktail fountains were still flowing with brandy and champagne, and plentiful heaps of food remained on the tables.

Helping himself to a large plate of sausages, he ate with quick economy.

From behind his shoulder, Weston said, “You look like you’re eating to store energy for a flight, not for enjoyment.”

Weston was an avian Wyr. Graydon shouldn’t have been surprised that the other man was so astute.

He chose not to respond to that observation. Turning away from the table, he said, “What do you know about Malfeasance?”

Weston’s mild expression never flickered. He was a tall man, although not as tall as Graydon, with chestnut brown hair, aquiline features, deep-set eyes, and a mouth that was tilted, more often than not, in a slight, ironic smile.

Known as a private man, Weston held a quiet Power. Graydon liked and respected him. He also knew that a number of people feared Weston. But a number of people feared him too.

As Graydon watched, the other man took a plate and helped himself to a meringue and a savory jelly, and then he turned to face the crowd.

Weston said, “I doubt very much you would enjoy what Malfeasance has to offer, my friend.”

Graydon switched back to telepathy. Are you aware that they hold women against their will and sell children for sex?

The earl’s aquiline features remained impenetrable, but instead of taking a bite of his meringue, he set it carefully on his plate. Nothing about the man revealed what he was thinking. Not even his pulse had increased.

One might almost have thought Weston truly indifferent to the news, or that he already knew, but Graydon had been acquainted with the earl for a very long time. He didn’t believe that Weston had known, because if he had, he would have already done something to stop it.

No, this was news of a most tragic, revolting sort, and yet still Weston never exposed his reaction. Graydon admired his iron self-control.

With one forefinger, Weston nudged his meringue a minuscule distance on the plate. He said, I was not aware of this. You have been to Malfeasance? You’ve seen this for yourself?

Yes. I’ve just come from there. I was pursuing a private matter. Because of that, I refrained from doing… a lot of things. I paid for the children for the night. They’re being fed supper. Rage flared up again, and he clamped down on it. With dogged determination, he finished the last of the food on his plate then set it aside carefully. I’m fully prepared to go back, but your government may have a serious problem with the Wyr of New York if I take the kind of action I feel needs to be taken.

Weston set his plate aside as well and met his gaze. Thank you for coming to me instead. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been to leave. You have my word, I will have the children in my custody within the hour and make sure they will be returned to their families or acquire good homes. I will also ensure the women receive the care they need, including respectable employment, if necessary.

And Malfeasance? Graydon growled.

The falcon’s eyes flashed. The difference between his feral gaze and impassive expression was jolting. Rest assured, in a very short while, Malfeasance will no longer be in existence.

He blew out a breath. Thank you.

If you’ll excuse me. Weston gave him a slight bow. The evening has grown late, and I have just discovered I have much work to do.

Watching Weston stride away, he recognized the liquid shift in the earl’s body. Civilization had receded, and the man’s predator had come to the fore.

The tightness in Graydon’s muscles eased somewhat. The earl was a man of his word. Graydon had no doubt that Weston would do what needed to be done.

Glancing over the crowd, he located Dragos easily enough. The dragon was surrounded by people, and he stood head and shoulders over almost everyone in his vicinity.