“Grace!” Macy admonishes.

But Hudson just laughs. “Perhaps you’ve got a point.”

“Yeah, perhaps.” I swing my backpack onto my shoulder with another roll of my eyes, wincing a little at the weight of it.

“Do you have everything?” my cousin asks as she triple-checks her own things.

“I think so. And if I don’t, I’m sure I can get whatever I need once we make it to Court.”

Hudson laughs. “Yeah, that won’t be a problem.”

“Wait! Do you know where the Dragon Court is?” I turn to him with wide eyes. “Macy and Flint won’t tell me. They keep saying they want to see my face when we arrive.”

“I know exactly where it is,” he answers. “But now that I know you don’t, I think I’m going to keep that info to myself.”

“See?” I say as I scooch past him in the doorway. “Totally inconvenient.”

“Then it’s probably a good thing you like me this way, isn’t it?” he retorts with a grin.

“I never said that.” I roll my eyes at him again, but his grin only grows wider.

“You two have the weirdest relationship,” Macy jokes, but she’s not wrong. We do.

But it works for us, so I shrug. “It’s my job to make sure my mate’s ego’s in check so he can always fit his head through the door.”

“And it’s my job to push her buttons,” Hudson fires back, dimple flashing.

Macy looks between us both and then says, “Are you guys talking in some sort of sex code?”

Oh. My. God. I glance at Hudson and yes, he was. I shake my head but laugh. “Definitely an inconvenience.”

Macy locks the door, and we once again sneak out through her secret passage.

By the time we make it outside, Eden and Flint are already there, as is Luca—and Uncle Finn. Macy squeals in delight when she realizes her dad is going to create a portal for us so we don’t have to freeze on an umpteen-hour flight.

“Hi, Uncle Finn.” I smile at him, and he returns the smile, although his eyes look concerned.

“I’m only doing this because Nuri asked me herself. She assured me you all would be treated like royalty during this visit.” He looks us over, then motions for each of my friends to step up so he can remove their cuffs. Everyone except Hudson, who just shrugs. “But please, try not to cause an international incident for one weekend, okay?”

Flint grabs his chest in mock offense, and we all laugh. Even Uncle Finn, who shakes his head, then begins waving his wand as though conducting a symphony.

I glance at Hudson, but something feels off. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, his jaw tight. I raise my brows at him, as if to ask what’s up, but he just winks and pulls a hand from his pocket to lace with mine. As our fingers entwine, the familiar warmth replaces the tension in my stomach, and I shake the feeling. I must have imagined it.

“I’m going to leave this side open for you, Macy,” Uncle Finn says as he finishes the last of the spell. “If you guys encounter any trouble—or create any—get back to campus immediately. Are we clear?”

We all assure him we want nothing more than a relaxing weekend, and then we step through the portal. Surely the universe will give us one weekend before royally screwing us.

71

If All Hell

Breaks Loose,

Why Can’t We?

All I can say when we finally land on the street outside the Dragon Court is, “Wow.” I recognize where we are immediately. We are in New York City, baby, and I cannot wait to explore!

It’s not my first trip to the Big Apple—my parents brought me here when I was little, but I don’t remember much about it besides the Empire State Building and a lot of traffic. This time I’m going to remember everything.

I know we only have a few days here—and that we have to spend most of our time at the Dragon Court—but I’m not going to let that stop me. I’ll go out in the middle of the night if I have to, but I am going to find some time to explore the city. The fact that Macy is pretty close to jumping up and down in excitement tells me I won’t have any trouble finding a partner in crime.

The portal dropped us right in the middle of Tribeca, and we cross the street toward the lobby of the ritziest building on this very ritzy block. Apparently, the Dragon Court is doing very well for itself.

“I can’t believe the Dragon Court is in New York City!” I exclaim with excitement. But then a thought occurs to me. “But the Dragon Court is much older than the city. Do Courts move?”

Flint nods. “There are dragons all around the world. But the Court is wherever the king and queen wish to reside at any given time. It’s the same with every faction. Well, all species try not to move their Court to a city already claimed—that would be an act of war—but otherwise, yeah, it can move around. Who would want to spend an eternity in the same place?” Flint grins at me, and I guess that makes perfect sense.

For just a moment, I wonder where I would want to place the Gargoyle Court, if I could claim any city in the world. I shake my head at my fanciful thoughts. I don’t even know if I plan to go to college yet. I certainly am not ready to make a decision like this for a long, long time. If ever.

Once we’re inside the building, I can’t stop my eyes from looking at everything. Massive, flowing stained glass chandeliers—I’m almost positive they’re Dale Chihuly—dominate the room, and I kind of want to spend an hour or three just staring at them. It’s the first time I’ve seen his work in person, and it’s as mesmerizing as I always thought it would be. The shapes and swirls he manages to create with glass are truly awe-inspiring.

The rest of the room is just as impressive. Muted gold wallpaper that I’m pretty sure has some actual gold leaf in it, travertine flooring, oversize and overstuffed furniture, and elaborate fresh-flower arrangements fill the upscale lobby. But there are whimsical touches, too—dragon sculptures and a giant bowl filled with fake gemstones, just to name a few.

“Mr. Montgomery!” The older woman behind the fancy gold front desk hustles out from behind it and all but runs across the lobby to get to us. “Welcome home, sir! The queen is expecting you. She requested that I tell you to go on up to the fifty-fifth floor. She’s overseeing the preparations for the banquet tonight, but she left strict orders that she would like to see you and your friends before you show them to their rooms.” She leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “I think she just misses you and wants to see your face before all the festivities commence.”

“I’ll find her, Mrs. Jamieson. Thanks for letting us know.” He gives her a big hug. “I missed you.”

“Oh, you silly boy.” She slaps gently at his shoulder, but her cheeks flush with color, and her smile is filled with joy. “I missed you, too. It seems like just yesterday you and your brother were playing fly-and-seek through this very lobby.”

Flint’s smile dims just a little. “Yeah, seems like that for me, too, sometimes.” He pulls away. “I’ll come down tomorrow morning, and we can catch up. I want to hear what those grandbabies of yours are up to.”

“I’ve got the pictures all ready for you,” she says. “Such a good boy you are.”

“I try, Mrs. Jamieson. I try.” He winks at her, then ushers us over to a glossy gold elevator that is separate from the other four in the lobby.

“That was very nice.” Luca watches him with adoring eyes. “What you did for her.”

“Mrs. Jamieson?” Flint looks surprised. “She’s the best, man. She used to keep the most amazing cookies in her desk just for Damien and me—”

“Oh, Flint! I almost forgot.” Mrs. Jamieson comes trotting back over, a bakery box in her hand. “I picked these up for you on my way to work this morning.”

His whole face lights up. “Oh, man. Are these the black-and-whites?”

“Would I get you any other kind?” She gives him a reproving look.

He bends down and kisses her wrinkled cheek. “I’m going to marry you one day, Mrs. Jamieson. Just see if I don’t.”

“I’m almost certain there’s at least three hundred adoring fans who might object to that.” Her voice is dry as she punches the elevator button. “Now, go see your mother.”

“Three hundred?” Luca repeats, brows raised.

“She was e-exaggerating,” Flint stutters as his cheeks turn a lovely shade of burnt sienna. “A lot.”

“Of course she was.” The mildness of Luca’s answer only seems to exacerbate Flint’s blush.

The elevator comes right away, which surprises me—at least until we climb in and I realize there are only four floors the elevator can stop on. And they’re the top four floors, of course. Figuring I can help Flint by changing the subject, I ask, “Does the Dragon Court have all four of these floors?”

But Flint just laughs. “We’ve got the whole building, Grace.”

“The whole building?” I don’t even try to keep the shock from my voice. Manhattan real estate prices are legendary and this place…I can’t even imagine what a penthouse here must cost, let alone the entire building.