“I’m here with you now, Wil.” As I looked into Wil’s pretty hazel eyes, I wondered if Ian was with Cricket now while Ford watched. “So why is the Council irked with you?”

“If our kind live equally among Normals, the Council becomes irrelevant. Those dusty bastards aren’t going to willingly relinquish their power and the wealth that goes with it.”

I swirled the carrot stick in my drink. “Are things so different here that you’re ready to safely come out?”

“No, but we can organize and establish relationships with key contacts. We do that with the Bloody Good Table, our clubs, our business alliances.”

“How fab that you incorporate your activism with your social life,” I said. “A lot of activists back home are deadly serious.”

“You Americans are like that. Look at the way you treat sex—schoolgirl giggles and Puritan moralizing. Sex is just sex.”

“Sex is never just sex,” I said. “Oh, God, did I actually say that? Please ignore it.”

The waiter delivered our plates and said to me, “It’s an update of the traditional English breakfast with black pudding, what you call blood sausage, free-range eggs with shaved black truffle poached in an heirloom tomato sauce, organic red lentils, and whole grain cranberry bread with red currant jam. Enjoy.” He left us to our meal.

I dug in, saying, “Everything is so organic this and heirloom that. I had no idea that you were such foodies.” A minute later, I said, “Why did the waiter explain what black pudding is?”

“Word travels fast with our kind, and the thralls have their own network,” Wil said. “As to the sustainable foods, we’re not the ones living in the Dark Ages.”

“Wil, if I wasn’t enjoying these eggs, I might have to give you a beat-down.”

He laughed and said, “You can do that later.” Then he outlined his plans for the day.

“Fine, but there are some things that I want to do.” I pulled a Time Out from my bag and flipped open to the first Post-it marker. “I must see at least one Shakespeare play and I’d also like to see something utterly new. I’ve got four must-visit exhibits and a list of places mentioned in some of my favorite books.” I unfolded a map that had dozens of locations circled.

When I saw the dismayed look on Wil’s face, I said, “It’s okay. I can find my way around on my own.”

“I wouldn’t think of abandoning you. I only hope I can keep up with you.”

The day was marvelous. Wil seemed amused by my ecstasy at seeing literary landmarks, and I was delighted when he showed me his five favorite pieces in the National Gallery. We bought leather jackets at a Notting Hill vintage shop, and we had a vampire tea at a private lounge in a posh hotel near Harrod’s.