“It looks just like central London,” I mused.
“We have our fair share of office drones in Guild City,” Grey said, “though they tend to be sequestered behind ancient glass and creaky beams. Not like the high-rises of London.”
He didn’t sound bitter about the changes in London, as I might have imagined another ancient supernatural would be. People tended to cling to their past and the way things were, but not Grey. Instead, he sounded impressed.
In the room next to the takeaway café, a jazz band played for the enjoyment of patrons drinking tiny cups of espresso. On the other side of the main room, students bent over tables, their noses stuck in books as they drank tall, frothy glasses of iced beverages. Another room was full of books and records. There, I spotted three witches I’d met when I’d first arrived in town.
Mary, Beth, and Coraline were all dressed in brightly colored, mismatched outfits, and they laughed over something in the book in front of them. Beth spotted me and waved. I waved back, then turned to Grey. “Why do the mages have a coffee shop? It’s not what I might have expected from magic users who can control the elements.”
“I’m not entirely sure why they’ve kept it up, but the guild opened the first coffeehouse in the seventeenth century, when they became popular in London. The leader of the guild at that time was enamored with them and wanted to have one here.”
“He seems to have nailed it.”
“Yes. He did.”
“Who are we meeting, then?”
“A Mind Mage named Genara. She’s a bit unusual for a mage. They tend to control the elements, as you noted, but she’s one of the rare ones who can read minds.”
“Read minds?” Yikes.
He nodded. “Come. We’ll head up to the room she prefers.”
“There’s more?”
“A lot more.” He led the way toward one of the rickety, dark wooden staircases at the back.
I eyed the espresso machines whirling away behind the bar, vowing to return for a drink, then followed him up the creaking stairs.
We passed a room that appeared to be an ice cream parlor. The barista poured a shot of espresso over a scoop of ice cream, then topped it with a dash of liqueur from a sparkling crystal glass.
Yes, I would be returning. Definitely.
Grey led me to a room on the third level. The floor sloped downward toward the street, the ancient wooden beams shifting silently underfoot. The walls and ceiling were as dark as the floor, and I had a hunch my flat would look like this if it had never been modernized.
Tiny tables filled the room, half of them full of chatting patrons. The place was dead silent, however, and the air sparkled around each table.
“This is the privacy room,” Grey said. “Each table is protected by a charm that ensures silence.”
My mind went immediately to my police training. “They could be doing all kinds of illegal dealings.”
“Yep.”
“Have you had meetings here?”
“No need. I can have them in my office.”
Of course. I eyed a woman sitting by the fire. Her dark hair was threaded with silver, and her face was lightly lined. She could have been anywhere from fifty to a hundred and fifty, and she was beautiful. She watched us with bright green eyes as we approached. She had to be Genara.
Grey stopped in front of her table, and she flicked her hand. Magic sparked against my skin, and suddenly, I could hear again. No voices, since no one was audibly talking, but the faint rustling of fabric and the creak of the wooden floor that I’d been missing earlier returned.
“Devil.” Genara shifted, her black dress rustling slightly. “It has been a while.”
“Indeed.” He gestured to the chairs. “May we sit?”
“But of course.” Her gaze flicked to me, and I immediately remembered what Grey had said about her ability
to read minds.