through my hair as if hardly daring to believe I'm really here. "I thought the same," he admits when he pulls away. "Tell me you killed that fucker."
"Hawthorne?" Silas shakes his head. "If only. Glancing at me, he adds, "It sounds like we've got some catching up to do."
The train continues its journey through the British countryside, the areas around us slowly becoming more urban the closer we get to London. The trip takes the better part of the morning, but after changing trains in Birmingham, time seems to speed up. There's no denying that I'm nervous —I suppose we all are, now that I think about it—but part of me still wonders what we're going to find waiting for us back in the city. Blockades? Armed patrols? How much control does the school board have over the rest of the humans, anyway? And if Hawthorne is smart—which he, unfortunately, is—then he'll be anticipating our return. The key will be outwitting him long enough for us to outnumber him.
If that's even possible.
After checking in to a five-star hotel in the centre of the city, courtesy of Hunter's expense account, we sit down in our suite living room to strategise.
"You don't think this is all a little conspicuous?” Silas asks, pulling back the curtains to glance out the window.
"You should have brought this up before I paid," grumbles Hunter.
"I for one think it's great," says Landon as he flops back on the couch.
"You would," I tease, elbowing him.
He catches my wrist and presses a kiss to my knuckles. "You wound me."
"It's not a bad idea, actually," Shade comments from where he's leaning by the bookshelf. "Hawthorne's probably combing all the abandoned buildings and cheap motels in the city for us. This should throw him off, at least for a bit."
"We can't keep doing this forever," Silas objects. "Going from hotel to hotel, lying low, waiting… We need to find someone who can point us to where Edith is."
"What about Mollie's place?" Landon suggests. "She lived there for god knows how long. Maybe there are some leads there."
"I hate to rain on that parade, but the last I heard, that whole apartment building was a smoking pile of ash," snarks Shade. "Anything she might have left there is probably burnt to a crisp by now, not to mention the fact that the Academy agents are probably still in the area. Besides," he goes on, "any magical signature she left behind is inaccessible to us without a witch. Sorry, Boots. No offense."
"None taken," I reply.
"So we're screwed, then," says Hunter, throwing up his hands. "We don't have anyone we can trust to tell us where she's gone."
There's a long pause, and then an idea comes to me. "What about someone we can't trust?" I ask suddenly.
The others all look at me like I've suddenly grown a second head. "You feeling all right, Boots?" asks Landon.
I roll my eyes. "Guys, I'm serious. I'm talking about her contacts—you know, that couple we asked for help who then turned on us."
Hunter's brow furrows. "You think?"
"Think about it," I insist. "Edith sent us to them in order to get me killed. She was probably planning on handing my body over to Hawthorne as soon as that siren made me jump out the window. Clearly, they're on the same side."
"So… what?" asks Silas. "You think we should just pay them a visit and ask nicely?"
I shake my head grimly. "Not so nicely."
Shade laughs. "Badass," he remarks, straightening up. "I'm in."
"Hold it," Landon protests. "Your injury-"
"Relax, Thyme, I'm fine," says Shade, waving him off. "Whatever Josie did has me back to almost a hundred percent. Besides…" His face hardens. "Nobody fucks with Boots and lives to talk about it. I think we're all in agreement there, right?"
The others murmur their assent almost immediately. But as much as their obvious care for me warms my heart, it also fills me with discomfort. I hate the way the dynamics have shifted like this. I haven't always had magical powers at my command, but the one thing I'd like to think I've never been is a damsel in distress. It no longer feels like we're all on equal footing; instead, I'm struck with a sense of inadequacy so strong it's almost crippling. "Okay," I say, getting to my feet. "But I'm coming with you guys. I want to be there to see this through."
The others look at each other with uncertainty, but to their credit and my extreme relief, nobody voices any