Page 76 of Crown of the Fae King

Wickham clicked his fingers in front of my face. “Shall we find a brisk car wash?” He clicked at Persi too. “And roll the windows down?”

Though it wascruel to give them a reason to lose sleep, Wickham called everyone into the living room to tell them about our dinner conversation with theArch and Anthstudents. Looking back at that moment, I realized it was Wickham who was the most excited, though he tried not to show it.

It was understandable, though. He and his sisters had been searching for it for over five years.

Everly bounced in her chair. Urban was in no shape to celebrate wildly, but he enjoyed Everly’s excitement. They, too, had been searching for Wickham’s answers for a while now, besides just hunting monsters. Though I was still buzzing from a good snogging—Kitch’s term for kissing—I was thrilled that finding The Covenant might mean we were close to stopping O’Ryan, and we could soon stop sitting on our hands while more witches were murdered.

Of course, it didn’t guarantee anything, but there was hope. Buckets and buckets of hope.

It was impossible to sleep with all those buckets sitting around, waiting for morning. Alwyn offered to make crepes, and though my stomach was still full from our fancy dinner, I thought I could probably slip one in sideways.

“Wickham popped out to check on his family,” Persi said, taking the kitchen barstool next to mine, both of us waiting with empty plates. “You should know that we were watching at the back of the restaurant…”

It took no effort to recall exactly what they would have seen. I closed my eyes and groaned quietly.

“It’s a good thing,” she insisted. “Now we know that your hot professor wasn’t waiting for a chance to toss you in a car and drive away, right? Now Wickham knows he wasn’t after Hank or anything else. Now that we gave him a chance to—”

“You left us alone on purpose,” I said as I realized what she was confessing. “Trying to trap him.”

“We had to be sure, didn’t we? And if he’d tried to take you, Wickham would have popped you out of his car in a second, even if it revealed too much.”

“Griffon could still be a fairy,” I pointed out. “You didn’t prove anything.”

“Yeah, well, even so, the next time you want to be alone with him…Wickham might just let you.”

The idea of spending serious private time with Griffon should have made me happy. And it would have if I hadn’t learned something about myself that night—I’d been relieved to have Wickham as an excusenotto go home with my hot professor. I liked having a valid reason not to get close, so we would never need to havethatconversation—the one I’d had four times before.

I love you.

And I love you. Let’s get married.

You should know I can’t have kids.

Oh. Well, I was just kidding.

Would Griffon react that way? Of course he would. He’d already admitted that family meant a great deal to him.

31

Must Be Oiled Often

About four in the morning, I finally got to sleep. Thankfully, no one bothered to wake me until eight, probably because no one else was awake either. Persi agreed to stay behind at Hope House, though she wanted to go watch over our shoulders without being seen. Wickham thought it was far too dangerous. If she got distracted and suddenly appeared, she’d be showing her hand to any Fae who might be watching over The Covenant itself.

Urban and Everly would stay behind as well, though they’d more than earned the right to see the fairy contract firsthand. Wickham came ostensibly as protection, confident the Fae would be there, whether or not they would reveal themselves. And of course, we took Brian and Flann so they could interpret what they could.

I’d already described the brothers as uncle-type characters who were obsessed with Fae documents. After he’d invited me to bring as many chaperones as I wanted, I was sure Griffon wouldn’t mind, but worried I might be assuming too much.

It was a long walk to the Theology Faculty Library from where we’d parked the car, but luckily, we’d left early. And the brothers’ enthusiasm ate up the distance in no time. We arrived twenty minutes early.

The library was much more modern and much less ornate than the public sections of the Bod. All business. More like the libraries I was used to. Less like a millennium-old cathedral.

We made our way to the restricted area. Through the door window, I saw Griffon sitting at a conference table surrounded by chairs. A document half the size of a poster lay in front of him. He wore the same white cotton gloves we’d used at Trinity with more piled to one side. He glared, unhappy about something. But whether he was unhappy with the document or the table, or some private thought, there was no telling.

Maybe he wasn’t a morning person.

The man at the information desk glanced up, then smiled. “You’ll be Professor Carew’s friends.” His gaze rested on me and his smile turned to a grin. “He’s all ready for you. Go on through.” He pressed a button and the door buzzed until Wickham pushed it open.

Griffon glanced up, saw me, and his expression changed completely, like he’d been away for weeks all over again. “Just four of you?” He ducked around Wickham, pulled me close, and pecked me on the lips, then gestured to the chairs. “Plenty of room. Make yourselves comfortable.” He guided me around the table to the chair next to his. “We’re not allowed to remove it, but we can stay as long as you like.”

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