“Only every day,” Rory muttered, with feeling. “Ship’s nice enough, but I’m ready to stand on something that’s not moving.”

First and second class didn’t have to go through customs like the rest of the ship. Having paranormal friends meant papers that passed any inspection, and very shortly they were walking through the terminal.

“It’s not far to the train,” Arthur said, as he tried to act like having to carry his own suitcase off a ship wasn’t an utterly new experience. “Wesley’s warehouse is on the outskirts of London and it should be empty as he’s only just put it up for sale. With any luck, he’ll never be the wiser that we borrowed it; the paranormal world is no place for someone without magic.”

Jade, Zhang and Rory exchanged looks.

Arthur huffed. “You know what I mean.”

Zhang cleared his throat. “It might be a little late for that.”

Arthur gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Because I just took a look at the street through the astral plane. And I think I see your lord friend waiting for you.”

“Oh hell.” Arthur came to an abrupt halt. “What do we do?”

Jade pursed her lips. “You two go to him.”

“What?” Arthur and Rory said together.

“The entire reason we were avoiding him was to keep him out of danger,” she said. “But if he’s here, if he somehow realized we were coming—how is it safer to leave him on his own?”

Rory groaned but didn’t argue.

Jade looked at Zhang, who nodded. “We’ll head to the warehouse as planned,” he said. “I’ll find Rory through the astral plane later.”

“Aw, come on, don’t leave me,” Rory pleaded.

“Sorry,” Jade said ruefully. “He’s not that bad.”

“’Cause he never kissed your fella,” Rory muttered.

Jade and Zhang disappeared in the opposite direction as Arthur gritted his teeth and pushed forward. A few steps through the crowd, and there, standing by his Bentley tourer, was Wesley.

Wesley saw him instantly and threw up his hands. “Finally. Why the devil did it take you so long to get off the boat? You can’t possibly tell me you traveled second class.”

“Hello to you too, and let me introduce you to the concept of stealth,” Arthur said, through clenched teeth. “And you are supposed to be in Windermere—”

“I got a message about an inquiry into one of my warehouses from a Mr. James Arthur. How utterly ridiculous—just send a damn telegram next time.” Wesley eyed Rory, who was glaring hard enough that Arthur was grateful the ring was in its lead box and not on Rory’s finger. “I still don’t know what to call you.”

“Funny, ’cause I got lots of ideas of what to call you,” said Rory.