Bex's seven suitors kneeled beside her on the ice, while my skates pulled me closer to the one boy who lingered by the rail.
"You look cold," I somehow managed to say.
"I used to have a warmer jacket, but then I gave it to some girl."
"That wasn't very smart."
"No." he smirked and shook his head. "It probably wasn't."
Despite having known him for almost a year, there were a lot of things I still didn't know about Zachary Goode. Like how soap and shampoo could smell so much better on him than anyone else. Like where he went when he wasn't showing up at random (and frequently dangerous) points in my life. And, most of all, I didn't know how when he mentioned the jacket, he made me think about the sweet, romantic part of the night last November when he's given it to me, and not the terrible, bloody, international-terrorist-are-trying-to-kidnap-me part that came right after.
From the corner of my eye, I could see that the boys had "helped" Bex to a bench not far away, but Zach didn't seem to notice. He just inched closer to me and smiled.
"Besides, it looked better on you."
There are a lot of things that that the Gallagher Academy teaches us to remember, but right then I was wishing my exceptional education had also taught me how to forget.
I mean, it was a chilly night in a foreign city, and an incredibly hot guy was smiling at me through the soft glow of sparkly lights! The absolute last thing I wanted to remember was the last time I'd seen Zach - the screeching tires or the masked men. Seriously, forgetting would have come in so incredibly handy at that particular moment. But I'm a Gallagher Girl. We don't forget anything.
"Why do I get the feeling you aren't here on vacation?" I asked.
I heard Bex laughing. I sensed Zach's hand inching down the rail, closer and closer to mine. For just one second, I thought he might say me - that he was here to see me.
"I'm looking for Joe Solomon." He glanced around the Tower grounds. "Thought maybe he was with you?"
And just that quickly the pounding of my heart took on an entirely different meaning.
Sure, it sounded like an easy question, but nothing about my Covert Operations instructor has even been easy. Ever.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my mind reeling with at least a dozen reasons why Mr.
Solomon might follow me to London - and not one of them was good.
"Nothing, Gallagher Girl. It's probably noth-"
"Tell me or I'll yell for Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, and you can find out how Bex became Bex."
He kicked the hard-packed snow gathered at the edge of the rink.
"We were supposed to meet up a few days ago, but he didn't show." Zach stared at me.
"And he didn't call."
Okay, I know when most teenagers talk about someone not calling, they're usually complaining. Or whining. But Zach isn't exactly the whining type.
I felt cold for the first time in the ice.
"He's not on my protection detail."
"Your mom's off looking for leads on the Circle, right?" Zach asked. "Could he be with her?"
"I don't know," I said, "I guess so, but . . . I don't know."
"Has he checked in with the Baxters?"
"I don't know."
"Has he -"