“Okay,” said Laura, chilly and judgemental in the halo of the streetlights. “Okay. Then I don’t think we have very much to say to each other, do we? Watch that fucking bird. It’s getting worse.”

“You should probably keep your uninformed opinions to yourself, thank you, Marshal,” said Walden. She had meant to say You looked fantastic out there and I can tell how hard you’ve been working and Is it Professor Rollins teaching you? and For heaven’s sake why don’t we have each other’s phone numbers? Instead she said, “I appreciated your assistance this evening. Good night.”

“Tube,” Walden said, seizing Mark’s arm as she stormed past him. “We’re going home.”

She was simmering with irritation from Leicester Square to King’s Cross. The Phoenix was at rest in her thoughts, its thirst for the world slaked with cool, delicious power. The Underground was crowded. Mark shouldered through crowds that made room for him in the way they never would for someone Walden’s height, and drew her afterwards. He even found her a seat on their eventual train home. “Sorry,” Walden said at last. “I’m being very poor company.”

“You’ve had a hell of a night,” Mark said. “Bad enough to have to handle all those demons without Marshals jumping down your throat for no reason at the end of it. I’ll see what I can do to get Ramamurthy off your back.”

“Will you,” said Walden, feeling both dubious and contrary. It would be delightful if Chief Ramamurthy and his absurd suspicions went away immediately and she never had to think about them again, but she did not like how easy Mark made it sound. She wasn’t a stupid person. She had multiple university degrees. She did know what she was getting with this man. It probably wasn’t a good idea to owe him—good God, what was he implying—political favours?

Mark paused. “Or not, if you prefer,” he said. “It was just an offer. We both know he’s wrong. No reason someone that senior should waste his time investigating a dead end.”

“Oh, I see,” Walden said. “You’d be doing him a favour.”

“I try to see it as making life easier for everyone,” Mark said. “It’s the way the world works. I didn’t make it that way. Look, Sapphire, I’m going to be sincere for a moment.”

“I’ve reached the middle of the arsehole sandwich?”

An engaging, rueful grin. “Sure. Here it comes. I’m going to admit I did some snooping. Same reason Ramamurthy is thinking about it—you see a demon problem, you see a powerful invoker standing right next to it, you need to rule out the obvious. I know a bit about you. The American job offer, some other things. I’m not saying I’ve been stalking you—there’s not much that’s personal—”