Page 109 of Crown of the Fae King

“He’s here looking for clues about his sister,” Persi told the others. “No idea what questions he’s asking.” She waited on Wickham.

“All right. Go on, then. But keep yer wits about ye. Not much room to maneuver in here.”

“No problem.” She wandered back into the restroom again. A second later, the door opened on its own, then shut again.

“Stop watchin’,” Kitch hissed, then pushed a cup of short, thin breadsticks my way. “Keep yerself busy with these.”

“I need more than this. Need…something salty. And a coke.”

Kitch waived the waitress back and we ordered fish and chips for six and a coke for me. He asked for more breadsticks while we waited.

“Uh oh.” Wickham said. “The woman is pointing this way. Let’s hope she hasn’t been looking at footage from the library.” He laughed like he’d said something funny, then shook his head. “Griffon is looking now. Shaking his head. Done looking.” He grabbed a breadstick and shoved it into his mouth.

“This is torture,” Kitch said cheerfully, then grinned at me.

“Really? Torture? Foryou?” I reached for his drink, but he pulled it out of reach.

“One per customer, lady.”

“Can’t we just leave?”

Wickham shook his head. “And we need to come up with a plausible reason for looking for him. And fast. Looks like they’re wrapping up over there.”

“He thinks it’s a miracle I found him. What’s the miracle?”

“Brooks,” Kitch said. “Wickham contacted Brooks, who thought he’d mentioned Dublin.”

“What if he never spoke to Brooks?”

“His phone. We tracked his phone.”

“We’re with the police now?”

Kitch shrugged. “I have friends.”

“True.” Wickham looked at me. “We stick with the truth as much as possible. The only thing we leave out…is the part about his family. Got it? After all, we came to Dublin looking for a Fae who might be able to point us in the direction of the Fae King. Right?”

My eyes tried to jump out of my head. “We’re not going to tell him that!”

“Not going to tell me what?”

I turned to face Griffon, standing at my shoulder, waiting for a proper greeting. Beyond him, I noticed the door to the loo open on its own. No one came out. “Not going to explain why Persi’s been in the restroom so long. We ordered you fish and chips.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He stepped to the next table and politely borrowed a chair. He was always too polite. He tucked the chair close to mine and sat. After a glance, he kept his hands to himself like he was afraid I might bite.

Kitch kicked me under the table.

I reached over and grabbed Griffon’s hand, pulled it onto my thigh, and held it there. When he rubbed this thumb along mine, I rubbed his back.

Persi settled on the empty chair next to him. All smiles. I assumed the eavesdropping went well and she’d heard nothing about Wickham and me visiting the library the day before Daphne was reported missing. But something was off with Griffon too, and it wasn’t the fact that he hadn’t shaved. Couldn’t count on anything.

Wickham’s phone vibrated. He read a text, then answered it.

Griffon took his hand back to wave for the waitress, then asked her for a Guinness. Then he turned to the table at large. “So. How did you find me?”

Kitch opened his mouth to speak, but Persi cut him off. “Kitch here has friends in low places. We tracked your phone.”

Pretty impressive, considering she hadn’t been around for that conversation. The two were more in sync than I realized.

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