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THE MAN DARTED DOWN a dark alley, crouching and pulling the collar of his jumper up over his neck. It was a warm, humid day in London but he couldn’t risk being seen by anyone, no matter how innocuous. He was waiting for Nathan, the writer who’d started everything with a single, damning blog post.
As seconds ticked by on his watch, the man raised his gaze and flattened himself against a wall. The brick snagged at his expensive woollen jumper, but he didn’t mind. This business was much more important than some sodding piece of clothing.
Finally, a well-built man with a flushed face trotted up the sidewalk. Nathan was clad in a pair of slacks and camel blazer with a white jumper underneath, dressed almost like the magazine picture the man held tightly in one hand. The pink hue to his face made him look a bit porcine. The stranger watched as Nathan straightened his collar in his reflection in a window.
The building, home of Channel 4 Television, was anchored in a large, open square. It was a richly designed structure, with two giant columns on either side of the entrance and a concave wall of glass that towered over the open air. While Nathan checked his watch and darted inside, the man lowered himself down onto a bench and pulled out a book. As he pretended to read, he casually flicked his glance down at the marked page. There was a handwritten note in the margin: “follow N. Wood, telly interview at Ch. 4. OH meet, 16:00. Flanagan’s pub.”
He smiled to himself as he watched Nathan trot through the lobby. The man had no idea that someone was following him—indeed, no idea that he’d been followed for the past two months.
* * *
CYN BECKETT GROANED as she saw Nathan stepping out of the building. As always when she saw him now, he managed to look tremendously pleased with himself. His cheeks were ruddy and his forehead was shining with sweat—it was a hot summer day, yet he was dressed for the fall in a luxe camel’s hair blazer that Cyn had plucked for him from a sample sale over three years ago. Aside from the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, he looked much the same.
“What’re you doing here?” Nathan stared at Cyn. She glared as his eyes travelled up and down her lush, curvy body. “Off the horse-man again?”
“Shut it, Nathan,” Cyn said mildly. She stretched and set her tote bag down at her feet. “I’m here on behalf of the púca clan.” She glared. “You know, since you wrote that bloody book and told everyone that they exist. They asked me for an interview too, and I suppose someone has to refute your bollocks.”
Nathan shrugged, and anger rippled through her body. Because of him, her friends and family were in danger. Because of him, a racist hate group was spreading fear and threatening to return the púca clan to the Dark Ages.
“They Live Among Us has enjoyed international success,” Nathan said with a smirk. “Your lot might even do with a read.”
“I’ve read it,” Cyn snapped. “And you didn’t have to make me out to be such a slapper!”
Nathan tutted. “I only speak the truth, Cyn.”
She bristled at the sound of her name coming from his mouth. A year ago, Cyn had felt guilty and anxious at the thought of causing her now-former friend so much pain. She’d led him on for years without realizing it, and some of this was surely her fault. But that was where the guilt stopped. She never guessed he’d become so crazy, so obsessive over her. Ever since that damning blog post and They Live Among Us had premiered to rave reviews, Cyn had stopped caring. Nathan had made his choice when he turned his back on his two best friends—herself and Felicity—and she knew that she could never forgive him.
“I’m using my reputation for good,” Cyn said smugly. The tote bag at her feet bore promotional material for the púca clan’s new matchmaking service, The Stables.
“Bully for you,” Nathan said.
Cyn glared. She realised that Nathan had changed after all. He used to be easily intimidated with just a word or two, but now he was sure of his own place in the world, and he liked it. She rolled her eyes. His rambling blog post had reminded her of his drunken text messages. Wallowing in self-pity had brought him accidental fame, but she honestly didn’t give a fuck.
“Yeah, Nathan, I know it’s not as brill as ruining peoples’ lives or being responsible for the formation of a hate group, but I’m sure trying my damnedest.”
Cyn picked up the tote bag and rested it on her shoulder. The heat of the day was beginning to make her feel like a wilted flower, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She pushed it down because she didn’t want Nathan to sense her weakness. It was probably a mixture of confronting Nathan, her jangled nerves, and the sun getting to her. She’d also skipped breakfast before the interview. You’ve got this. Just walk away from him. Turning around, she faced the Channel 4 building and put her hand on the door.
“Cyn.”
Damn. She turned around, glaring at Nathan. She half-expected to hear one of his pathetic apologies. “What do you want, Nathan? I have an interview.”
“Tell your horse—I mean, husband—that I said hello,” Nathan said with a smirk.
Cyn resisted the urge to punch him in the face. He wasn’t worth it. Instead she rolled her eyes again and pushed through the door, leaving him outside in the midday heat. Her chest heaved, and she wondered if she’d ever get over feeling so betrayed by a man who’d been one of her closest friends. When she thought about all of their dish sessions at Thai Thai, or late nights throwing back pints at the pub, her stomach roiled. But then she remembered the outlandish claims made in They Live Among Us and became angry again. She was a bloody hormonal mess, and the whole thing made her sick.
It was hard to pretend like they’d never been friends. Although she wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, Cyn almost felt sorry for Nathan. She knew that his fame had come at a cost—his closest friendships. But that was his call to make. She waited for the lift. And he’s the one who pulled the trigger, not me. I didn’t make him do anything.
There was a tingling against her thigh, and Cyn reached down and pulled out the small, compact-like portal. The surface was shimmering wildly, telling Cyn she had a call from the Realm.
“Fallon?” Cyn couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice as the image cleared in the small, mirror-like object. As the shimmering mist began to fade, she saw the outline of her best friend’s pretty face and coppery hair. “Felicity!”
“It’s only me,” Felicity sang back. Behind her, Cyn could see two wee children curled up on the bed.
“Don’t wake the little ones,” Cyn said. “You look exhausted! What is it?”
Felicity threw a glance over her shoulder at her children before moving to the side of the room. “Listen, when are you coming back home?”
“Soon. I just have some promo bollocks to do here, then I’ll be on my way back. I’d say by tomorrow.”
“Good.” Felicity nodded. She had dark circles under her bright eyes, but although she was obviously tired, she was also glowing. “Niall and I are going away for the weekend, somewhere out of the Realm.”
Cyn nodded. “Right, it’s your bloody anniversary!” And I forgot! Shite! She’d pick up a bottle of something on her way back. Something Felicity liked and they didn’t have in the Realm would make a good gift.
“Yes.” Felicity’s cheeks pinked and Cyn smiled. Even though Felicity and Niall had been together a whole year, she always loved being reminded of Felicity’s happiness. “Would you be able to babysit?”
“Of course!” Cyn grinned. “You know how much I love being an aunt!”
Felicity chuckled. “They’re a handful, Cyn. Maelíosa is helping out too, but you know Braden and Kira. They’re at a tough age.”
“More like a bloody adorable age,” Cyn cooed.
“You’re looking a bit put out,” Felicity said.
“It’s bloody boiling here,” she said, fanning herself. And then, because she could never keep anything from Felicity: “And you’ll never believe which arsehole I just bumped into.”
“Nathan?”
She swore sometimes the two of them practically had a psychic connection. “Bingo. He’s about as much of a git as ever.”
“What happened?” The concern on Felicity’s face was genuine.
While Cyn could rationalise that at least some of what had happened was her fault, Felicity didn’t have the same reaction. Nathan had outed her family, and that was beyond forgiveness in her eyes. Felicity always let tensions go, so Cyn knew that Felicity’s unwavering anger toward Nathan meant he’d really hurt her. Felicity was stunned by Nathan’s betrayal even more than Cyn. He’d been her boss for years, a man Felicity had trusted and adored. And now she despised the maggot (her newfound nickname for him). Unlike Cyn, she didn’t think Nathan’s actions were justified. Regardless of Cyn’s careless flirting, to her there was nothing worse than his tell-all book filled with half-truths and outright lies.
“Nothing,” Cyn said vaguely. She waved her hand around in the air and then shrugged. “I really wanted to tell him to naff off, but I managed to keep my cool.”
Felicity laughed. “Good girl,” she said. There was a wail behind her and she whipped her head around. “Oh, no. They’re awake, I’ve got to run. Ta!”
“Ta!” Cyn echoed back.
Felicity’s picture faded from view and the portal in Cyn’s hand was again a shimmering grey. Slipping it back into her pocket, she stepped onto the lift and pressed the button for the highest floor.
