Page 135 of Our Radiant Embers

After a few silent bites, he pushed his plate away and fixed me with a heavy look. “There’s something I’ve got to ask you.”

His serious tone tugged at the pit of my stomach, appetite draining at once because yeah, no. I got it. And I didn’t have all the answers—nowhere near. All I knew was that I wouldn’t give him up again.

“Shoot,” I said softly.

“You said the alliance with the Blanchards was off the table.”

The…alliance with the Blanchards? It was so far off what I’d expected that I needed a second to reply. “As far as I’m aware, yes. I haven’t heard anything about it for months.”

“I met Isabelle Blanchard. She was visiting the Southwark construction zone with your father, Eleanor, and Gale.”

“She was?” I put down my cutlery and sat back in my chair. Fuck—so Liam had met her. But she had no way of knowing who he was—they weren’t even related. And no one knew about Nan Jean, so…Okay, this was not a problem.

“Why would she be interested in the Green Horizon Initiative?” I asked, then gave an answer myself, thoughts bouncing around my head. “Unless they’re trying to pitch something similar to the French government. But I doubt they’d get the mandate given…You know. Co-destroying a UNESCO World Heritage building.”

“I think…” Liam’s hesitation was palpable, and he took another beat to study me. Then something in him seemed to soften. “I think there’s something wrong with your family’s energy towers.”

He hadn’t called them penises. Unease twisted through my gut. “What do you mean—off?”

“They’re…” He didn’t finish and instead shook his head. “I better show you.”

In my head, a dozen questions bumped up against each other. I sat with them for a moment before I let them go, at least for now.

“Okay,” I said simply.

* * *

It was past eleven when we left the building, tiredness hanging in a faint haze around me. The streets were quiet but not deserted at this hour, and halfway through the ten-minute walk to the Covent Garden site, I reached over and took Liam’s hand.

He missed half a step, then caught himself. His voice was low. “What if someone sees?”

“Let them.” I sounded far braver than I felt, but I’d chosen him. The rest needed to fall in line.

Without a word, he squeezed my fingers. When I glanced over, a quiet smile played around his lips, and suddenly I almost wished we would run into someone who knew me, us. Can you believe it? Adam Harrington, holding hands with another guy—with Liam Morgan, at that. Saw them myself. It would send the rumour mill into overdrive and force me to take a stand.

A strong breeze made a newspaper page dance across the road. We passed several theatres with neon signs and posters that advertised the latest plays, a sudden cluster of people spilling onto the road after a show. Liam shot me a sideways glance that made me wonder if he expected me to let go. I didn’t.

We turned a corner. The construction site was just a couple of minutes further, veiled from the eyes of the public. The closer we got, the more reluctant Liam seemed, his steps halting, until I pulled him to a complete stop.

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t feel it?” he asked.

“Be less concrete, I dare you.” I kept my voice light and teasing in deliberate contrast to the wariness I sensed from him.

“It’s like…” He paused. “It’s like there’s a wrong taste in the air. I wasn’t sure it would be the same here—same as at the Southwark site—but it is.”

A wrong taste?

I sent my magic ahead, letting her swoop out like a net that registered anything of relevance—the smouldering embers of a discarded cigarette in a bar’s ashtray, the lingering heat of a roof terrace barbecue. Nothing unusual for a summer night.

Slowly, I shook my head. “I don’t feel it, no. Might be your special brand of magic?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. It’s…” Liam sighed. “Easier to show you, like I said. It’s just that I think maybe that’s why I collapsed this afternoon. So I’m not too keen on another taste.”

“You think—” I broke off and tried to align my thoughts. Tiredness made them stick together like the wet pages of a book. “The energy tower, right? You said there’s something wrong with it. And you think that’s the reason you collapsed?”

He lifted one shoulder and looked away. “I know it sounds strange.”

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