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 tocompile 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 aside 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.
