Page 88 of The Bone Season

Nick parked his car near Seven Dials. We sat in a quaint coffeehouse in Neal’s Yard, where I tried my first brew. I secretly thought it tasted like mud, but Nick had already paid, so I drank.

‘Paige,’ Nick said, ‘you know about unnaturalness.’

‘It’s a little hard to avoid,’ I said drily.

He cracked a genuine smile.

‘I don’t want to frighten you,’ he said, ‘but you’re showing signs of it.’

After a long moment, I nodded. Part of me had always known.

Still, Irishandunnatural. That was a hell of a combination in Scion.

‘I would never turn you in,’ Nick said quietly. ‘We can talk safely here. The owner, Chat, is a good man.’

‘I was young in Arthyen, but I remember it. There was no dog, was there?’

‘No.’ Nick sipped his coffee. ‘Paige, I’ve brought you to here to see a friend of mine, who wants to meet you very much. I trust him.’

‘Is he … like me?’

‘He is. I am, too,’ he said. ‘You saw my car before you got to Coram Street. Even the plate was identical, wasn’t it?’ I stared at him. ‘That’s what I do – my unnaturalness. I can make people see things.’

‘But you work for Scion.’

‘To bring it down. Over the years, I’ve learned to be careful,’ he said. ‘You’ve done well to not be detected so far.’

‘I don’t go out at night.’

Nick nodded. I drank some more coffee, if only to warm my fingers.

‘Ah,’ Nick said. ‘There he is.’

I looked over my shoulder. A man strode into the coffeehouse.

He slotted a cane into the coat stand. Tall and fine-boned, he was probably in his late thirties, with waxen skin and short dark hair. He wore a gold cravat, pressed trousers, and a black embroidered waistcoat.

You could have sharpened pencils on his cheekbones. His lips were pale and petulant. As he approached, they tweaked into a smile.

‘You must be Paige,’ he said, his voice deep and slightly amused. ‘Jaxon Hall.’

He snapped out a hand. I shook it, intimidated.

As soon as our fingers touched, I felt the faintest of vibrations, as if a cold draught had wafted from him. It was very similar to what I sensed from Nick. Jaxon took the seat opposite mine.

‘If this is a spurious case,’ he said to Nick, arching an eyebrow, ‘I will be crestfallen.’

‘It’s not.’

When the waitron came, Jaxon asked for nothing but a glass of blood mecks, an expensive substitute for red wine. Nick ordered soup for us both.

All the while, Jaxon observed me.

‘Nick told me the story of how you first met,’ he said. ‘He also informed me that you can inflict certain … medical abnormalities on other people.’ His gaze was cool, intrigued. ‘Is that correct, Paige?’

I glanced at Nick.

‘Jaxon doesn’t work for Scion,’ Nick said. ‘I promise.’

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