His gaze met mine as he said that, and it had me melting and breathless in an instant. The man definitely had plans for more than providing a safe place for Lugh to work.

It was all I could do not to jump to my feet and demand we leave straight away.

By the time we finished our drinks and croissants, the storm had unleashed, the rain so heavy the gutters were struggling to cope.

Cynwrig called for a car, and a few minutes later, a black BMW pulled up at the café. A tall dark elf climbed out, raised a large umbrella, and ran around the back of the vehicle to the café’s doors.

Once the bill was paid, we headed out, the chauffeur escorting us to the car one by one so we didn’t get soaked. Traffic was light, and it didn’t take us long to get across to the warehouse. It was an old red brick building—one of many that dominated this area of the docks—that was three stories high and had large, vaguely boat-shaped, multipaned windows. A red metal roller door opened as we approached, giving entry into a surprisingly large and bright parking area. A wall of double-height windows to the left separated this area from what looked to be offices and meeting rooms, while two elevators and a set of metal stairs lay at the far end within a cage that resembled glassed-in bear claws. A series of sturdy-looking bollards stood in front of that. Cynwrig’s family was seriously intent on ensuring no one could successfully make a ram-raid entry.

The driver pulled to a smooth stop in the parking bay closest to the cage. Cynwrig thanked him, then added, “We shouldn’t be needing your services for the rest of the day, but you’d best take the car home, just in case.”

“Will do, sir,” the older man said in that genteel sort of tone chauffeurs the world over seemed to use.

He climbed out to open the door for Lugh while Cynwrig did the honors for me, offering me a hand to help me out, then keeping hold of it as he led me toward the bear claws.

“I take it the glass used here is bulletproof?” Lugh asked as the BMW reversed out and left.

“All the glass in this building is.” Cynwrig pressed his free hand against a reader set into the wall to the left of the cage. “When you’re major players in the black market trade, you never can be too careful.”

Light swept his hand and, a heartbeat later, one of the clawed panels slid seamlessly aside. He repeated the process with the elevator panel, and it arrived with a soft chime. I’d expected it to be all gleaming steel and glass, but it was in fact quite functional, more like a cargo elevator than one designed for humans.

A few minutes later, we were on the top floor and stepping out into a massive area that reminded me of those expensive New York loft apartments you often saw in glossy design magazines. Floor-to-ceiling black metal windows dominated the raw brick wall opposite, providing a vast view over the docks and the shipping lanes beyond. There were exposed metal pipes and beams everywhere, and this central section was cathedral-like, rising high to the exposed trusses. Black metal stairs lay to the left and right, leading up to an upper floor that no doubt held bedrooms. A huge kitchen was tucked under the area on the right, while there appeared to be a number of more intimate spaces to the left.