The Magnolia had plenty of staff on Saturdays, so Rory couldn’t put off going back to his house to pack for the short trip to the place he definitely wasn’t going to think about.

“You don’t have to come,” Rory said, as Arthur stepped to the curb to flag a cab, even though his stomach was tied in knots and the last thing he wanted was to be alone.

But Arthur only snorted. “I’m coming.”

“We don’t know if any traces of the pomander’s magic could even be in that warehouse anymore.”

“Didn’t you pick up the paranormal equivalent of scorch marks on a Manhattan sidewalk after the pomander briefly rested on it?”

“Yeah, but that was right after, now it’s been two months,” Rory pointed out. “And we don’t know that the buyer is Baron Zeppler.”

“It’s adorable you think I need hard evidence of danger to worry about you. It’s like you’ve never even met me.”

Rory hesitated, then admitted, “Boarding house is even worse than the last time you saw it. Mice are basically tenants now.”

“And if you’re expecting me to judge you for what you can afford, you certainly haven’t met me,” Arthur said tersely.

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” Rory said. “I’m just saying, you don’t gotta worry so much, okay? You don’t need to overprotect me, ’cause I’m not the innocent you think I am. And if we’re gonna knock heads with my dad”—and Jesus, Rory did not want to think about that—“you’re gonna see how I grew up, and you’re gonna see that I haven’t needed anyone else’s protection for a long time.”

Arthur looked over at him just as the cab pulled to the curb. “No,” he said softly, “that’s not what I’m going to see.”

The blocks rolled from Midtown to shabbier Hell’s Kitchen. Arthur drew curious looks at the boarding house, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was looming closer to Rory than usual, no trace of a smile, and a well-dressed, brooding, six-foot-three former quarterback was imposing enough that no one gave them trouble, or even questions.

Rory hadn’t been back to his room all week, and roaches scattered when he opened the door. He winced. “Sorry. I did warn you.”

Arthur leaned on the door to close it behind him. “You did, but frankly I’m beginning to feel as if you see me as an innocent, some kind of sheltered Fifth Avenue prince who might faint at the sight of vermin.”

Rory hesitated, then shrugged with a small, apologetic grin.

“Ugh, that is how you see me. Get over here.” Arthur grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into his arms, drawing a surprised breath from Rory.