Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 1)

“Magic. I still look like me—or like Frog Me—but the hoodie makes it hard to get a good look.”

“We should have just bought some of those.”

“No. If you can be recognized, they’d still recognize you if they looked for a few seconds.” She glowered. “Me, though. I tried to tell them I didn’t need a potion.”

“They just wanted to turn you into a frog,” Mac said. “Joke’s on them, though. You make a hot frog.”

She laughed, a sound more like a ribbet than laughter. “Let’s go, Barbie.”

I looked at Quinn. “See you later. And thanks for the backup.”

“No problem.”

Carrow and I exited the pub, making our way out through the alley and back into Convent Garden. The toilet roll shop was closed, as usual, but the street itself had a few more people.

“Okay, pal,” Mac said. “We’re on your turf, and I’ve got no idea where to go.”

“I’ve got this.” Confidence suffused me. This was my turf. And I might not have been completely happy here, but I sure as hell knew my way around. “Come on. We’ll catch the Tube.”

“The Tube?”

“It’s the Underground.”

“Oh, right. The train that goes under the earth. You humans are crazy.”

“You really don’t come here much?”

“Why would I?” Mac asked. “You saw Guild City, it’s great.”

“Yeah, it was.” I tugged on her. “Now come on.”

We hurried to the nearest station, passing bustling bars and pubs and full flower boxes. Musicians played in front of the green and glass market building, and a wagon filled with flowers sat in the middle of the street as an art installation. It was one of my favorite parts of London, and I was glad that Mac got to see it when it was at its best.

We were nearly to the Underground station when I caught sight of a flyer in a pub window.

My face, staring straight out.

It was my College of Policing photo.

Oh, that burned.

Banks. That bastard. With the serial killer now in the news, he was under more pressure to catch someone, and he was trying to get me for it.

“You’re on wanted posters?” Mac asked.

“Yeah.” My stomach pitched. We had to fix this. Now.

I dragged Mac toward the sign over the stairs leading to the Underground. I reloaded my Oyster card to get us through the barriers, then found our platform, tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for the train to arrive.

When it did, we crammed in with everyone else. The ride itself was uneventful, besides the fact that Mac couldn’t stop muttering, “Mind the gap,” in different funny voices. Combined with her frog face, it was a real trip. One lady stared too long, and I explained that Mac was a makeup artist.

Mostly though, I kept my head tilted down to avoid the stares of men.

When the train reached our destination, I pulled Mac off and hurried up the stairs to the street.

“Thankfully, this part of town is quieter at night,” I said.

“And more boring.” Mac looked up at the towering buildings. The streets were nearly empty.