Luckily, the super-awkward ride ended after about half an hour when they pulled up in front of a large stone building sandwiched between two others. When she reached for the handle, Gideon gently pushed her hand away from the door. “Let the nice man do his job, hm? They feel as though they’ve disappointed you otherwise.”
Maggie cringed. “I don’t like having staff. It’s weird.”
“You never did.” He chuckled.
She was going to pepper him with another dozen questions about her life, but she was interrupted as the valet dutifully opened the door for her and stood aside to let her pass. She climbed out, thanked him, and then quickly became lost looking around her surroundings.
All the buildings were packed in so tightly that it was amazing. A few of Boston’s streets were like that—especially in the older areas crammed with the city’s famous brownstones—but it didn’t feel the same at all. What it also felt like was…money.
Wherever they were, it was expensive. The building they had stopped in front of stretched high overhead, with oval-shaped windows set into white alabaster stones tinted an orange hue by the streetlamps nearby.
“Where are we?” she asked Gideon as he tipped the driver, gathered their things, and headed toward the front door.
“Mayfair.”
She shot him a look that clearly said she had no clue what that meant. With a faint smile, he pointed in a direction down the street. “Buckingham Palace is about a mile that way.”
“O—oh.” She looked back up at the house. “And you own this place?”
“Mm-hm. I have for centuries. I loan it out to said friends in high places when they’re in town on business.” He shrugged. “I honestly prefer it here to the States, but we do as we must.”
Still agog at her surroundings, she followed Gideon up the stairs to his home. He typed something into the keypad, scanned his thumb, and then the door clicked open with a quiet beep. He held the door for her.
She almost missed his proud smile as she literally said “whoa” at what she saw. His home in Boston had been nice—very nice. But this place was a mansion. Everything looked flawless and extremely expensive. There was more marble to be seen than wood, and while it maintained its look of age and majesty, it had been meticulously updated to keep with the times.
It wasn’t in doubt that Gideon had a stupid amount of money, but seeing it front and center was another thing altogether.
“Do you like it?”
She didn’t miss the tone of hope in Gideon’s voice. When she glanced to him, he had that look of longing etched into his silver eyes once again. She felt her face grow warm.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry snapped at the necromancer as he stormed past them both into the mansion. “You’re a smarmy piece of shit, and she isn’t going to fall for your ‘oh, look at me, I’m so loaded’ routine. I’m going to bed. Try not to piss her off too badly while I’m asleep.”
And with that, her friend stormed up the stairs, stomping loudly down the hallway as he went. She cringed as she heard a door slam.
“I sincerely dislike him,” Gideon muttered.
“It’s clearly mutual.” She laughed quietly and went to say more when she heard the sound of nails scrabbling on marble floors somewhere upstairs. “What the—?” Her instant thought was that something huge and terrible was about to attack. Some giant, evil, undead monster. She froze.
Gideon didn’t have anywhere near the same reaction. He put down his things on the table by the door and with a broad and happy grin, walked to the bottom of the stairs.
Just then, a large dog rounded the corner and appeared at the top. It was a shaggy-looking thing, covered in white and black patches of shaggy, extremely curly hair. It let out a happy “ruff!” and set off down the stairs.
Gideon was laughing as the animal tackled him, taking him to the ground. “It—it’s good to see you too, Mephisto. Yes, yes—yes, I’ve missed you too. Good girl. Look who it is!” He pointed at her.
Maggie blinked as the dog looked up, barked, and immediately jumped up from Gideon to run to her, hopping up on her hind legs. “Oh—Oh, okay! Hi, puppy!” She laughed as the dog excitedly licked the air near her face, trying to get more attention. She knelt, letting the animal hyperactively run around her, sniffing and wagging its curly tail ecstatically.
Gideon was sitting on the floor, smiling at the scene, his elbow resting on his knee. He huffed himself back up to his feet and brushed off his dark clothes. “Mephisto was a gift from a friend a very long time ago. She’s half poodle, half sheepdog.”
“I’m shocked she’s still so fluffy.” She scratched the dog’s head and received a large, happy grin from the animal who panted and basked in the attention.
Mephisto sat down in front of her, her tongue hanging out the left side of her mouth. There was a collar around her throat that dangled a strange-looking medallion from the front, cast in gold and with an odd symbol stamped into the front.
Maggie lifted it in her fingers. “Another illusion? Like Harry?”
Gideon nodded, an almost pleased expression on his face. “Precisely. She loves it here and has the run of the place no matter who has come to stay. I think she believes she’s some manner of terrifying guard dog, despite the fact that she greets everyone in roughly the same fashion.”
“Why Mephisto?”