Page 35 of Grand Romantic Delusions and the Madness of Mirth, Part Two

I ’m not certain I’ve ever been in the part of London that Coda directs us toward, but I recognize the three-storey building.

It helps that the tech awry likes to gloat, and they pull the very first selfie the kids sent me from my phone and flash it on my screen just as we arrive.

I don’t yet have any idea what connection Tommy and Kitty have to this building, or why they would have been outside it that late at night, but their apartment is only a few streets away.

The vehicle Coda delivered to us came with keys but no driver, so Elias is at the wheel when Coda asks him to circle the block slowly.

Bolan is in the passenger seat, with Sully in the back seat with me.

The streets are quiet, traffic sparse, the streetlights set fairly far apart.

A few businesses, including a pub or perhaps a restaurant, occupy the ground floor.

No cars are parked out front of the main building, but two men in dark suits are posted at a side door. Halfway down a narrow alley.

“See the mark or stamp or whatever on the corner of the building there?” Coda says tersely. “That’s not a builder’s mark.”

We’re not close enough for me to see the stamp Coda is referencing, but I can see it at the edge of the frame on the selfie the kids sent.

On our second pass down the street that fronts the building, a car ahead of us turns into the narrow alley, pulling up to the side door.

The driver steps out, crossing through the side door and barely even acknowledging the two men posted there.

Not turning his head in our direction. One of the men — the guards? — gets into the car.

“Valet?” Sully murmurs. “That doesn’t suit the neighborhood at all.”

“Did anyone else recognize the driver?” Elias asks tensely.

There’s no response except for the quiet tapping emanating over the phone speakers.

“Maybe I was mistaken,” he murmurs.

“Follow the car,” Coda says quietly. “At a distance.”

It isn’t a long trip. The valet backs out of the alley, rounds the block, then pulls into an underground car park. The site is unmarked but gated.

“Do we know for certain the kids are in that building?” Bolan asks.

“Nothing is for certain until you get eyes on them,” Coda says. “But I haven’t picked up any other movement to suggest they’ve left this area.”

“There are underground tunnels all through this section of London,” Elias says tightly. “There could be multiple egresses.”

“I have a map,” Coda says coolly.

“With cameras on all the tunnels? And every exit?”

The tech doesn’t answer. Which I’ve already learned is answer enough.

The gate to the car park starts to close. Elias abruptly guns the car, sliding through and down into the darkness without warning.

“What the fuck?” Bolan growls.

“We need to park, don’t we?” Elias flicks off the headlights. Then a touch of his power shivers through the car, and I know without asking that he’s doused all the automated lights on the vehicle as well.

The interior of the car park is dark and utterly silent as Elias slides the vehicle into the first available spot, just off the entrance ramp. There aren’t any other cars parked nearby, but Bolan tilts his head and says, “Other guy just parked, down a level.”

“No cameras,” Coda says over the phone. “And I don’t have a schematic to the building yet.”

“We should head back up to street level,” Bolan says.

“And just walk in the alley door?” Sully asks rhetorically. “Even if no one recognizes me or Eli, how far do you think you and Mirth will get?”

“Then we split up,” Bolan says.

“Absolutely not,” Elias snaps.

“Four of us separated can cover more ground,” I say, though I’m not actually all that keen about running around in a darkened car park alone.

But not because I’m worried about getting hurt myself.

I already know I’m the most dangerous person in the immediate vicinity, maybe even in all of London.

And not only because I have Coda on my phone.

“Mirth.” Sully grabs my free hand. “We need to call in the royal guard. Or the police.”

“Not yet,” Elias says. “This might be nothing. Or … we might have to move faster than is exactly … appropriate.”

Legally, he means. The United European Nation is a constitutional monarchy.

A democracy, not a dictatorship. Unless reacting to a direct attack on a royal subject, the royal guard can’t charge around busting into buildings.

The police need reasonable cause to do the same.

Coda might be able to compile enough evidence to convince the locals that the kids were kidnapped, but by the time it worked its way through the system …

I open my door and practically tumble out of the vehicle, heading farther into the dimly lit underground space around us.

“Mirth!” Elias hisses, though he follows on my heels. Under a touch of his essence, the lights dim around us, keeping us in shadow. Bolan and Sully are only a step behind.

“The valet isn’t going to head back through the gates, then walk all the way back around the block,” I say quietly. “They use this garage for a reason.”

“An underground connection,” Bolan murmurs.

“License plates,” Coda says over my phone.

I keep walking, pointing the phone camera toward the cars as we pass them, letting Coda’s control of the camera capture whatever the tech wants. Elias takes my slightly slowed pace as an opportunity to get ahead of me, Sully at his shoulder.

Bolan keeps pace with me, close enough that our shoulders brush together.

My sneakers are nearly silent on the smooth concrete underfoot, but I have no doubt a shifter would be able to hear my approach.

I loosen my hold on my power just a little, actively trying to pick up the energy of the valet.

If he’s an essence-wielder, I should be able to feel him nearby.

“These are some pricy rides,” Bolan mutters.

“Yes,” Elias says tensely. “I wouldn’t mind getting another look at the Aston-Martin as well. Custom paint.”

I know very little about cars, but as we cross deeper into the car park, we’re slowly surrounded by luxury vehicles, including a few Rolls-Royces and Bentleys.

Yes, I recognize those.

“Someone is smoking up ahead,” Bolan murmurs. “Weed laced with essence. Similar to Sully’s joints. You don’t have a side business going, do you, Lord Savoy? Now that you’ve got so many mouths to feed?”

Sully shoots Bolan a disparaging look over his shoulder but doesn’t bother with a clever retort.

We skirt around the end of the row of cars, heading even deeper underground. Elias and Sully come to a sudden stop, and I nearly run into the earl’s back. Sully angles his shoulders, lining up with Elias and keeping me tucked out of sight behind them.

Bolan curls his hand around my wrist, his hold loose but intense.

I peek around the well-dressed barricade now blocking my path. The valet is leaning against a concrete wall next to a large steel door with a fancy electronic lock. The lock is as out of place as the luxury vehicles.

I don’t like the contrast. I don’t like that we’re here at all, that the kids are missing, and that Coda traced them to anywhere other than sleeping peacefully in their beds. I don’t like that Coda thinks an underground awry-hunting-and-trafficking group might be involved.

The valet pauses midtoke, blinking at Elias and Sully’s sudden appearance, Bolan and I still out of sight behind them. While smoking his joint, the valet appears to be taking pictures or vid of the nearby cars.

“Elias Fitzbern,” Elias says smoothly. “Earl of Hereford. This is Lord Savoy.” Then he waits expectantly. As if the valet is just another employee. As if he has every right to go wherever he wills.

Bolan’s fingers flex around my wrist. I turn the phone off speaker and press it to my ear.

“You’re supposed to check in at the entrance, my lord,” the valet says, lowering both his phone and the joint.

I can’t place his accent. Watered-down Slavic?

He’s wearing some sort of essence charm.

I can feel it now, but not his own power.

Which is presumably why Bolan picked up the scent of the joint first. “Supposed to let me park for you.”

Either the valet is a mage, or he has a powerful employer.

Any charm that can fool my senses is rare.

And expensive. Similar to the unusually powerful block currently on the kids’ phone.

While we drove here, Coda informed me snootily that even if the phone were broken, the awry tech would have been able to trace it— meaning it has to be essence-blocked.

Elias sniffs offishly. “I knew the way, of course. And I loathe anyone driving my car but me.”

The valet looks behind us, perhaps to see what car would be worth walking through the garage for. Elias is still controlling all the light around us, though, keeping the upscale vehicles illuminated but Bolan and me in shadow.

That’s when I realize that the valet can’t see Bolan or me at all. Can’t apparently sense us in any way. His eyes skim right over us, looking only at Elias and Sully.

He snuffs out the joint, then gestures toward the door with a mocking bow. Elias and Sully step forward. Bolan holds me back.

“Don’t worry, Princess,” Coda murmurs in my ear so quietly that I barely pick up the words. “I’ve got them tagged and tracked.”

The screen reader built into the wall scans the valet’s face instead of his palm. Then he grabs a large lever and disengages the metal lock strapped across the door in two places with a slight grunt, making me wonder if the weight or the awkwardness of the maneuver is part of the security measures.

Elias and Sully pass through the steel door without looking back.

What appears to be a long concrete corridor stretches out beyond them.

The guard follows, turning back to shove the door closed with his shoulder.

The clunk of the lock and a shiver of essence follows, presumably sealing the door again.