She squeezed him tight. For a moment she wished time could freeze as it had for the Pretties. But every story had to end sometime. At least they had helped the Goblins retake their city. Even now, she could hear the hoots and yelps of Goblins racing through London on motorcycles and bursting into pubs, taking all the liquor, and throwing gold coins at Pretties in exchange. She’d never known what it meant to have a home that she truly called hers, but she could see what it meant for them. Goblins were the oldest of the orders, even older than the Royals, and yet for centuries they’d been treated as errand boys. That changed now. The Court of Isles, based in London, was gone. Without Prince Maxim and Lady Imogen, the city was free.
She let Luc go and nodded to Rennar. He understood her signal and let the snow whisper die on his lips. The snowfall lessened until the last flakes were nearly on the ground. Luc raised a hand. Then he, Jak, and all the rest vanished.
Anouk stared at the place where they’d been. She heard footsteps and felt Beau’s presence at her side. He rested one hand on the railing, felt his way along it, and then wrapped a hand around her waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
“We’re going to get you your sight back,” she promised. “And then we’re going to help Cricket find what she’s looking for.”
“And then what, Princess?”
“Then we’re going to do whatever we want, Beau. Go to America and drive in that race you want. NASCAR. Eat shrimp and grits and deep-dish pizza and ride horses over mountains and lie out on sunny beaches. And when we’re done, we’re going to find our place in this world, like Luc said. We’re the only ones in the Haute whom the vitae echo doesn’t affect. That has to mean something. We can kill, but killing was never our primary purpose. I think we’re meant to be guardians of magic, in a sense. Ensuring the balance of magic and technology. Safeguarding the rules. Making sure that no Royals or witches or anyone else treads into territory that could harm others.”
“A magic army.”
“Maybe more like magic police. There are only five of us. A bit small for an army.”
She pressed her hands against the sides of his face and guided his lips to hers. Beneath their feet, the Thames gurgled. In the distance, the Eye of London spun in its Ferris-wheel circle, giving Pretty tourists a view of a city that had very nearly been annihilated—?not that any of them remembered. Beau’s hand traced up to her nape. She tilted her head back, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. If she had dust on her cheek, she didn’t care. She kissed Beau deeper. He smelled like cologne from Pickwick and Rue’s, winter frost, and magic. She smiled to herself, thinking of Jak, and almost laughed. He was right. There was nothing in the world better than a good kiss.
She pulled back and ran a playful finger down Beau’s nose.
When the crash came, she heard it distantly, like something that had happened in a half-forgotten nightmare. Her head turned toward the sound instinctively, and Beau’s did too, even though his eyes saw nothing. He didn’t see the odd way that the Ferris wheel had stopped. He didn’t see the tangle of bodies on the street next to Westminster Bridge. He didn’t see the Goblin motorcycles and buses that had crashed together in a horrifying wreck.
He didn’t see that standing on top of the Ferris wheel, commanding the wreck like a conductor leading an orchestra, was the man Anouk had stood with under a trellis of roses and married.
Prince Rennar.
Head of the Shadow Royals of Paris, overseer of the Haute.
She’d saved London, and now, for some reason she couldn’t possibly fathom, the man she’d bound herself to was tearing it apart all over again.
Chapter 48
“R ennar!”
She ran across Westminster Bridge toward the London Eye Ferris wheel, the city a blur from the wind stinging her eyes. She gritted her teeth and whispered a spell to give her feet greater speed. Her heart pounded. What did Rennar think he was doing? They’d stopped the Noirceur! The battle was over! London was rightfully back in the hands of the Goblins, as they’d always planned.
I’m tired, Anouk, he had said. For too long, power has been in the wrong hands.
She leaped over a chain onto the pier that housed the Ferris wheel, startling the Pretties who operated the ride. They shouted at her. She cast a quick whisper that made her invisible to them.
“Rennar!” she called up. “Stop this!”
On the Thames, the Goblins had commandeered a party boat that blasted out rock music. The boat was now rocking wildly back and forth, though the rest of the river was calm. The boat suddenly tipped far too much to one side and started taking on water. The Goblins screamed. The boat continued to take on water until it rolled over and began sinking. Giant air bubbles churned as it sank. Goblins were thrown into the roiling waves.
It had happened in seconds.
Anouk froze at the edge of the pier, watching in horror. Goblins were terrible swimmers. She didn’t know how to swim either, but what did that matter to a witch? She had to save them. With enough life-essence, she could drain the entire Thames. But as if sensing her line of thinking, the water began to spin like a funnel, sucking down the Goblins and the boat. She swallowed the last of her owl feathers and cast a spell to stop the water, but it was too late. Every one of the Goblins vanished beneath the surface. As fiercely as she whispered, none resurfaced.
She shook her head as though she hadn’t seen right. The Goblins in the water were . . . gone. How many of them? Twenty? Thirty? How many more had died on the buses and motorcycles Renna
r had made crash?
Fury stormed in her chest until she felt it was going to erupt out of her. Power ached in her hands and feet. She spun toward the stopped Ferris wheel. He’d doubtlessly try to prevent anyone from climbing it. But she’d flown before. She uncorked the bottle that held the rest of Saint’s blood and sucked down a few hungry sips.
“Volart kael.”
She felt the thrill of her feet leaving solid ground. She held on to the bars of the Ferris wheel as she rose, not exactly flying but certainly climbing with ease, rising higher and higher until the city skyline fanned out on the horizon and then she was at the very top, and she grabbed the metal rim to keep from rising higher.
She was breathing hard. This high, the wind whipped at her, blowing her hair in her face. She pushed it away, steadying herself on the precarious bars of the Ferris wheel, and faced Rennar. He turned to her with a conflicted expression. The spell to capsize the party boat was still fresh on his lips.