Page 169 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
“How did you find us?”
Kit squeezed tighter, then released me. “I’ll always find you, Rory,” he said, ruffling my hair in a way that should have annoyed me but only filled me with love.
He’d come. He’d really come for me.
Seb caught up, somehow managing to look immaculate despite having just been on a motorbike—burgundy tailored trousers uncreased, his fancy long black coat with brass buttons pristine.
Maxwell stared. “But… but… how the fuck did you two get here from London so fast?”
Seb looked amused. “We took the private jet in the end. Drove Kit’s motorcycle to the airfield, breaking all the speed limits.”
“Hey! You tell me I’m not allowed to speed!” I tried to joke.
Maxwell’s mouth dropped open like a fish. “You… you have a private jet?”
“I have access to one.” Seb’s mouth quirked. “We’ve landed at a tiny private airfield. It’s completely empty at the minute. I’m trusting Felix to take care of everything. The pilot and crew are there waiting.”
“So… what are we doing?” Kit asked, arms crossed as he surveyed the castle ruins.
I allowed Maxwell to fill them in, keeping a close eye on my brother throughout, waiting for his reaction to hearing about GREY. Though his heart rate rocketed, he schooled his expression almost perfectly. I wished he’d shared more about what he’d been through during his time with them, so I could help him. Perhaps now, he’d be forced to.
When we got to the part where Maxwell relayed that I wanted to come here in case the wolves happened to casually pop out of the castle, I cringed.
“Right,” said Kit, frowning, looking between Maxwell and me. “And how far away did you say the other place was?”
“Umm… not that far,” I said weakly, as Maxwell said, “Almost eight miles.”
I could tell Kit was trying not to laugh.
“There’s a secret tunnel network all over London!” I protested. “We use it every day!”
“Yes, built during World War Two under a city already connected by an underground train network,” said Seb dryly.
“Let’s go see this entrance, then,” said Kit.
We trudged across to the west wall where Maxwell and I had found the hatch yesterday. I brushed away the layer of dirt and grass clumps, showing them the concrete rectangle with its clean edges, stark against the ancient stone foundations.
“Well, this is all very fascinating,” Seb began, “but how are we supposed to—”
“Shut up,” Kit interrupted sharply, holding up one hand.
We all froze.
Kit dropped to the ground, pressing his ear against the hatch. “There’s people arguing underneath here!”
“What?” I scrambled down beside him, flattening my ear to the cold surface.
Muffled voices drifted up through the concrete—indistinct but definitely human.
“We can’t just stay here all day and night!” someone complained.
“Where is Megan?” another voice demanded.
“We’re not being paid enough for this!”
I lifted my head, staring at Maxwell in amazement. “There really are people down there.” My throat tightened. “There’s people, Maxwell!”
“Can you hear me?” boomed Kit in the loudest voice I’d ever heard.
