The rhythmic swaying of the railway coach coaxed Spencer’s eyelids shut before the train even cleared the city proper. He shifted in his seat, letting the pleasant weight of a good nap settle over him, but as he dozed off, the train hit a rough section of track, rocking him sideways.

Across from him, Meena sat upright, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. On a train packed with holiday travelers heading to the seaside, she seemed the only one ill at ease. Children ran up and down the aisles, squealing in delight, while their parents chatted with their seat mates. The rustle of newsprint and the creak of picnic baskets floated atop the laughter and conversation and the steady clack of the wheels on the rails.

Back schoolroom straight, shoulders rigid, Meena appeared oblivious to the chaos. She stared out the window at the last of the manufacturing areas ringing the city. Her right foot jiggled while her index finger tapped out a sharp beat on the windowsill. Her expressive face looked pinched with worry, her lush mouth flattened into a forbidding line.

He thought she might vibrate straight off her seat with nervous energy.

The train might as well have been carrying her straight to the mouth of Hell.

“It should only be a few days.” Spencer broke the silence.

Only her eyes moved as she glanced in his direction. “I agree. Both Edison and Briar are exceedingly inventive. They’ll run Ramsay to ground in no time.” She stared back out the window.

Spencer stretched his legs out until his feet were even with her skirts and slouched down in his seat, wriggling his shoulders until he achieved the perfect position. “Why the worry? Brighton won’t be as dull as you believe.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing Alicia. She must be all but grown up.”

Spencer smiled at the thought of his beautiful half-sister. She was indeed a young woman now. A mischievous troublesome delight of a young woman.

“I should warn you. Once she sees you, there’ll be no living with her. Don’t expect any peace. Or quiet.” Spencer felt his grin widen. “When Alicia’s excited, it’s like living with a houseful of puppies.”

Meena laughed. “How fortunate that I adore house pets.”

As quickly as it had appeared, the amusement faded, and her gaze once again drifted to the window. Spencer leaned in the same direction, pressing his nose to the glass, and stared out. The smoke-belching factories ringing the city had long since given way to wide stretches of farmland. The greens and browns of the rolling hills set off the bluebird sky above them to perfection. Pretty as it was, the scenery didn’t call for such intense scrutiny.

He covered his mouth as another huge yawn hit him. Two nights with little sleep had worn him out, but it was difficult to relax when sitting across from someone with the pent up energy of a hunting tiger.

Spencer scrubbed a hand across his face and sighed. “You should try to rest.”

Meena nodded. Her foot ceased its tapping, and she folded her hands in her lap, lacing her fingers together, but nothing in her demeanor suggested she was relaxing.

He closed his eyes. What he wouldn’t give for a catnap.

After returning to the shambles at the hotel, neither he nor Sweet—nor the women, he imagined—found much sleep. He and Sweet took turns on watch although the consensus was that Ramsay wouldn’t dare try to hit them again with all the guests about.

Spencer glanced across at Meena. She was attempting to stifle a yawn herself, though the stiffness of her shoulders, and the tightness of her jaw told him she was far from sleep.

“You’re not worried about your cousins, are you?” He shifted in his seat. “They’re more than a match for Ramsay. Hell, Mrs. Hapgood alone could best him.”

Meena shook her head. “Not in the slightest.” She chuckled. “I’d pay good money to watch Briar handle him. She’s fantastic with a parasol.”

Spencer laughed. “That would be a sight worth seeing.”

He studied her face. Briar had done a fine job hiding the bruise on her cousin’s cheek. Still, it was visible to anyone who knew what to look for. Spencer’s stomach tightened. He curled his fingers into fists. Just thinking about that bludger putting his hands on her made him want to smash something.

Meena tapped her finger on the windowsill.

“Does it hurt much?”

She shook her head and winced. “Only my neck.” She rolled her head gingerly from side to side. “A bit stiff.”

A flash of heat bloomed in his chest. Ramsay would pay extra for that.

He concentrated on the green fields and the whitewashed farm houses flashing by outside the window and tried to ignore the tension that vibrated through him when he imagined of the attack. If Meena and her cousin weren't so skilled, so level-headed….

The alternative didn’t bear considering.

Meena twisted around in her seat, her attention on the families now pulling sandwiches and treats from their wicker baskets. She appeared to all the world like a fellow vacationer, but Spencer knew better.

Something was not right.

“It’s your head then.”

“My head?” Meena looked at him oddly. “You’re the one Ramsay whacked about.”

“I mean, your head must ache. You seem out of sorts.”

Meena narrowed her eyes. “You don’t usually show any interest in my… sorts.”

Spencer stiffened. It was no more than the truth. Not that she hid her feelings about him, either.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Idiot. She wasn’t ill. She was sick of him.

They’d be days in each other’s company. Alicia and his aunt would be flitting about. Successful as the world at large believed the Jonquil to be, his Brighton home was far more modest than his overblown reputation implied.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but his house was not large.

Spencer stared up at the rounded ceiling of the railcar. “We won’t be able to avoid each other’s company.”

Meena shot him a puzzled frown.

“My house,” he explained. “It’s rather modest. We’ll be tripping over each other quite a lot the next few days.”

She shrugged. “That’s of no consequence.”

Her demeanor in no way matched her words. If he hadn’t known her so well, he would've said she squirmed.

The rich scents of roast beef and fresh baked bread wafted up and down the aisle, torturing Spencer with thoughts of the luncheon they hadn’t thought to pack.

Meena opened her mouth, then shut it without saying a thing. She sank back against the seat and folded her arms in front of her.

Now he was intrigued. He’d never seen Philomena Sweet indecisive.

A nasty thought formed. It wasn’t missing the action that had her so twisted about. It was him. Did she despise him so much that even the thought of a few days at the seaside made her ill?

Spencer tugged at the hem of his suit jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles. How would they get on? He couldn’t slink around his own house, hiding in his study day and night to avoid her.

Not that Alicia would let him.

Best to air their laundry now while they were alone. He tensed, his body pulling tight as if preparing to take a blow to the gut. “Out with it. What’s got you so tangled up?”

Meena blinked at him as if she were nothing but a mindless tart. “Whatever do you mean?”

Clearly, she was loath to express her opinions. His stomach lurched. Must be worse than he even suspected.

Meena toyed with the silver locket around her neck, running the charm back and forth across the thick chain. “All right.”

She dropped the trinket and clasped her hands in her lap, threading her fingers together. She squared her shoulders and sat forward. Her gaze didn’t meet his eyes.

Spencer lounged back in his seat, trying to exude a sense of tranquility, and waited.

“I’d like to know….” She sucked in a large breath and started again. “I want to know, is there a Mrs. Crane?”

“N-no.” He concentrated on keeping the surprise off his face.

She nodded. “I see.” Her attention was focused firmly out the window. “It’s an engagement then. Or an understanding.” Her finger tapped on the windowsill like the needle in a sewing machine.

“Good God, no!”

He shrank back in his seat, waiting for the attack. She’d see his bachelorhood as one more black mark against him, somehow. The actual logic of it all, however, was most unclear.

But there was no explosion. Quite the opposite. For the first time since they’d boarded the train, the tension drained from her frame.

How, exactly was he supposed to take that?

“What about you?” He sat forward, wanting to know, yet dreading the answer. “There must be someone.”

Meena shook her head. “Not as yet.”

“But you haven’t abandoned the idea?”

“On the contrary. Some day I’ll cross paths with my soul mate.”

“Really?” That intrigued him. “Tell me about this ‘soul mate.’”

Meena sighed, her gaze focussed on the passing scenery. “He’ll be responsible, certainly, and we’ll share many of the same interests. He must be kind, thoughtful, and above all, steady. I’d prefer a good sense of humor, but I’m prepared to forego that, if necessary. One can’t have everything, can one?”

How was it that a plain blue traveling dress, with its severe lines, only accentuated her curves? Damned if he didn’t remember far too clearly how it felt to hold her in his arms.

He sat forward. “You forgot passion.”

“I most certainly did not.” Meena raked him with a look. “Highly overrated.”

“No adventure? No excitement?” Spencer shook his head. “Your prince sounds deadly dull.”

Meena squeezed her eyes shut. “Exactly my point, Crane. A man like you wouldn’t get one check-mark on my list.”

Clearly not.

Spencer slumped down in his seat. She’d settled into the corner of the bench, her head propped against the wall of the coach. If he were a betting man, he would’ve said she was asleep. And now he had enough nervous energy marching around in his stomach to fuel an entire regiment.

He tapped his finger on the windowsill in time with the clacking wheels. It was going to be a long trip to Brighton.

* * *

Much to Meena’s surprise, an hour in Brighton invigorated her.

Whether due to the clean, sharp sea air, or the surprising delight that was Crane’s charming house, she couldn’t have said. Whatever the cause, for the first time since this whole disaster began, she took a moment to breathe.

Unlike Crane.

Meena eyed him over the lip of her tea cup. He perched on the edge of the chair, more hovering than sitting. His wide shoulders appeared taut beneath the lightweight wool of his summer jacket. All in all, he looked stiff and tired and unaccountably wary, considering they were in his own house.

“We must take her to the aquarium.” Crane’s young sister, Alicia, vibrated with youthful energy. “You’ve probably never been to the West Pier, either.” She directed this to Meena, who shared the horsehair sofa with her. “And then there’s shopping on Madiera Row.”

Their aunt, Emmeline, laughed and set down her own cup. “Slow down, young lady. There are only so many hours in the day.” She paused. “And you have school tomorrow.”

Alicia sighed loudly. “Yes, but Professor Xavier’s such an old bore. I could skip that—”

“No, you won’t.” Crane cut her off. “Education is too—”

“—important to take lightly.” Alicia finished the phrase she clearly heard far too often. Her mouth took on the stubborn tilt only a sixteen-year-old girl could produce. “But we have a visitor. That calls for a certain amount of leeway.” She threw her brother a challenging look.

“I can’t wait to see all of it.” Meena intervened before he could say something idiotic. “Unfortunately, your brother and I have some business affairs to discuss.” She smiled at the girl. “We could take care of all that while you’re at school. I’ll be ready for a bit of fun after that.”

Alicia beamed at her. Her golden curls shone in the sunlight pouring in through the large windows. “I’ll be home by luncheon. We’d have plenty of time for the aquarium at least. You must see the Mastigoteuthis flammea. It’s the most amazing creature. Do you know they actually communicate with each other? It’s thought they mate for life.” She rushed on, her brown eyes gleaming. “They’re highly intelligent, and social.”

Aunt Emmeline smiled at Meena as she moved to gather up the dishes. “That’s more than Meena wants to hear about fish for now.” She picked up the tea tray and headed off for the kitchen. “It’s Clara’s afternoon off. Come help with the dishes?”

Alicia jumped up off the sofa and followed her aunt.

“They don’t know.” Crane said in a low voice. He glanced toward the kitchen, then slid closer to Meena. “About the Jonquil. They believe I made my money as an engineer.”

“Spencer invented a process to manufacture crown moulding.” Alicia rushed back into the room and plopped down in her seat. “Like that.” She pointed up at the tasteful line of moulding rimming the room. “He designed the machine that cuts those tiny little squares.”

Meena locked gazes with Crane. His expression was impassive, but his eyes begged her to play along.

“I have always wondered what your famous machine did.” She pretended to study the edging. “How extraordinary.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Alicia agreed.

Meena coughed. “I had no idea your brother had so many talents.”

“That reminds me.” Alicia whirled around to face her brother. “Spencer, show Meena your trick.”

Crane slid back in the chair and waved her off. “It’s been a long time. I’m out of practice.”

“You don’t need practice. Please?”

Their aunt Emmeline rejoined them. "Oh do, Spencer." She looked at Meena. “His tricks are quite good."

Meena suppressed a grin. "I have no doubt."

"Yes well, I have some things to attend to." He stood.

"Oh don't be a horses ass, Spencer." Aunt Emmaline waved him back down. "Have a little fun."

Alicia removed a delicate butterfly barrette from her hair. “He can use most anything small.” She held it out to her brother.

Crane palmed the ornament. He sighed. “It appears I must bow to the whims of my audience.” He moved toward Alicia.

"Not me." She waved him off. "Show Meena." She jumped up off the sofa so Spencer could take her place.

He perched on the arm of the sofa as if unwilling to get too close.

Meena tried her best not to laugh, but a small giggle escaped her lips. Oh how she was enjoying having one up on him for a change. "Do your worst Mr. Crane."

Crane hesitated. His fingers worked the small barrette, tumbling it back and forth over his knuckles in a way Meena had seen Briar do countless times. It was the mark of an excellent pickpocket. One who had the utmost control and finesse.

His well-shaped fingers moved quickly, rhythmically. Meena wanted to look away, but the movement mesmerized her. Memories of those same hands touching her, caressing her, undressing her, made her breath come faster.

Suddenly, the parlor trick didn't seem so silly. She flashed him a look.

His eyes, more green than brown in the afternoon light, seemed to see straight into her. The pulse at the base of his neck beat strongly. The gentle scents of soap, and male skin, were doing odd things to her breathing.

She glanced off over his shoulder, needing to break the spell.

Perhaps encouraging this had not been a good idea. But they were in it now. Alicia and her aunt watched expectantly, their faces bright with laughter.

The barrette still in his hand, Crane pulled back his sleeves. He muttered something Meena didn’t catch. Then he sighed as if about to do something unpleasant.

"Behold, ladies and gentlemen." He began his patter. "As you see, I have nothing up my sleeves.”

Alicia giggled.

“Nothing in my hands, but this.” He held the barrette high. "And now, I call on the Great Divine to aid me." He stared theatrically at the ceiling. "Now you see it, now you don't." With a shake of his hands, the barrette vanished.

Even though she knew very well how the trick ended, Meena held her breath.

He cupped the edge of her ear in his hand, his touch light as a feather. She expected that. She hadn’t expected the fire that spread from the sensitive lobe of her ear, down her neck, and deep into her belly.

She hadn't expected that at all.

"And here we have it." Crane presented Meena with the barrette he appeared to extract from her ear.

“Bravo!”

“Well done!”

Aunt Emmeline and Alicia clapped enthusiastically.

Meena stared up at him. He’d felt it too. His lips were parted, and a pulse beat strongly at the side of his neck. It was as if an electric charge had jolted both of them, reigniting fires best left as spent coals.

Crane palmed the ornament in his strong hand and leaned in, close to her ear. His warm breath caressed the sensitive edges of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Still believe passion is over-rated?”

Overrated. Overdone. But most importantly, overly dangerous.

Meena spread her hands out across the sofa, needing to feel something solid beneath her. A loose curl tickled the edge of her ear. She swiped at it, moving it quickly back off her skin. What an excellent reminder of the potency ill-advised feelings could have. It shocked her, the ease with which a simple touch could knock her feet straight out from under her.

And the devil of it was, she liked it. She liked it very much.

That part, she’d forgotten.

* * *

“After the Mastigoteuthis flammea, we should see the Chlamydoselachus. The Brighton Aquarium has a splendid example.” Alicia pressed her pretty nose to the glass of the enormous seawater tank. She seemed transfixed, as if the murky water held the secrets of the Universe.

Meena clutched her purse. She’d been in the Royal Aquarium in London enough times to recognize the way her stomach tightened as she walked through the doors. The Brighton Aquarium set her nerves on edge just as quickly. The sheer size of the place was breath-taking, but the tanks themselves…. She shuddered. The looming weight of all that water restrained by nothing but a sheet of glass brought on that same tight feeling in her chest.

But Alicia had been so very excited to bring her, Meena couldn’t have refused.

“Most people believe the octopus is the most intelligent of the sea creatures,” Alicia observed, her attention never wavering from the tank, “but Edward says the Teuthida is a smarter animal, especially the Mastigoteuthis flammea.”

Meena forced herself to squint at the rocky wall lining the back of the tank.

“Over there! See it?" Alicia pointed. There, not a foot from the sandy bottom, swam a flame-colored arrow. It was far smaller than Meena would have imagined, given Alisha’s enthusiasm. It was a lovely shade of red, however.

“So it’s a squid, is that right?” Crane frowned at the darting red fish with its waving orange tentacles.

Alicia rolled her eyes. “If you prefer the common name.”

Meena bit her lip, stifling a giggle at Alisha’s transparent adolescent know-it-all-ness.

One eyebrow rising skyward, Crane regarded his sister. Meena wondered if the girl recognized the danger in his pointed look. It was a long moment before he spoke. “You’ve taken a tremendous interest in oceanography—”

“—oceanographic biology.” Alicia corrected him.

Meena winced.

Crane cleared his throat. “Oceanographic biology. I see. I trust this new interest is not to the detriment of your other studies?”

Alicia sniffed. “I’m mindful of the sacrifices you and Aunt Emmie make so I may attend school. I would never disappoint you.”

“I know that.” Crane pulled her into a hug. “I’m teasing. Any scientific interest you have pleases me to no end.” He set her away and swiped the end of her nose with a playful finger. “You have an excellent mind. As long as you’re using it, I’m delighted.”

Alicia reached up on her tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. “You needn’t be concerned about me.”

Crane’s heart-melting smile went straight to Meena’s heart. She pressed a fist to her chest. There was a time when she would have given every jewel in London to have one of them herself.

Even while a part of her ached for what would never be, she was happy for him. It seemed the self-centered gadabout had found some measure of peace.

She turned her attention back to the giant tank. The life force contained behind the walls seemed to surge straight through the glass. It wasn’t just the sea creatures. The water itself pulsed with its own energy. Enormous iron struts held the plates of glass together, every inch riveted fast against the massive forces of the water it held back.

An incredible achievement.

Oblivious to the fact that they swam so close to utter destruction, fish of every size and description floated past. As with humans, there were the fat and thin, the slow and fast, the ugly and the beautiful.

Which made Meena realize that the bright red Mastigoti-whatever had disappeared.

“We were lucky to have seen him.” Alicia had moved to Meena’s side. “Edward says—” She cleared her throat. “I mean, it’s well known that the Teuthida as a genus are very shy. It’s an honor even to have one in the aquarium. They have none in London.”

“I shall count myself lucky then.” Meena smiled at the girl’s outsized enthusiasm.

Emmeline was wrinkling her nose at a pugnacious-looking fish. Brown and spotted and altogether lumpy, it quite looked to Meena like the finned equivalent of a warthog.

“A Montague’s blenny,” Alicia pointed out. “I believe they are native to the shallower waters in the Channel. Far less interest than the flammea.”

Which appeared to interest a sixteen-year-old girl far more than was entirely credible.

Emmeline moved into view over Alicia’s shoulder. She shared a knowing look with Meena. Somewhere in Brighton, there must be a handsome young man entranced with flaming squid.

Oblivious to Alicia’s enthusiasm, Crane was studying a grouping of plump gold starfish that clung to the sharp rocks close to the glass.

“What would you called these?” He tapped on the glass next to the starfish.

When there was no answer, he turned. “Alicia?”

“Alicia?” he repeated when there was no response.

Spencer stared into the crowd. “Where is she? Did she say she was leaving?” There was no mistaking the panic in his voice now.

“No.” Emmeline rose on tiptoe to scan the crowd. “That silly girl. She probably planned to beat us to the ice cream parlor.”

Her answer did nothing to convince Crane. He stared at every corner of the huge room, muscles tense, senses on alert. "Wait here,” he murmured to Meena.

“Of course.” His worry was infecting her as well.

Crane dove into the crowd. Not two steps away, he froze. Meena followed his gaze.

Fear squeezed the air from her lungs. That tall skinny form with the lank, dark hair.

No. It couldn’t be.

She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. She peered harder at the slender back, but the man was too far away, the hall too dim, to be certain.

Crane whirled around. His face was ashen, his mouth slack with shock. “It can’t be. There’s no way he would know—”

“I’ve got him.” Meena was already moving to intercept Ramsay. “Find Alicia.”

She ducked her head and shoved her way through the crowd. Every few steps she stopped and poked her head up to make sure she was still following her quarry.

Thank God it wasn’t a Sunday. The great hall was full enough with day tourists from London. On a Sunday, she would’ve lost the man for sure. She put her head back down and barreled forward.

She squeezed between a large family pushing a perambulator and a short round woman. Then she reached him. Just as she was working out how she would take Ramsay to ground, he turned.

From the back, he could have been Ramsay’s twin. Not so once he faced her.

Relief flooded her, turning her knees to jelly. “Oh thank God.”

The skinny man gave her a strange look and hurried off.

Hands on her thighs, Meena bent forward as far as her stays would allow, hoping to catch her breath. Not that she could afford the time. Crane might need help finding Alicia.

And he needed to know she wasn’t in danger.

Meena scanned the crowd for his sister’s white straw bonnet or Crane’s unruly thatch of hair. As she cut close to another exhibit, a thick, snake-like body slithered along the glass. Flat black eyes stared.

Meena shuddered, shying away from the tank. “Aren’t you a basket of ugly,” she muttered.

Crane moved into her line of sight. She picked up her skirts and hurried after him. Just as she caught up, he reached a blue uniformed museum guard.

He grabbed the man’s arm. “The chamydosy something? Where is it?”

The man frowned and ran a finger over the edges of his luxurious mutton chops. “Chamydosy… chamy….” He stared at the ceiling, pondering. “Hmmm.”

Still twenty feet away, Meena could see the desperation on Crane’s face. She was sure the guard was unaware of it, but he was close to being throttled.

The guard tapped a finger to his lips and stared up at the arched ceiling for inspiration. “Oh yes. The frilled shark. That must be what you’re talking about. Three tanks down on your left, sir.”

Crane tore off before she could catch him.

Meena sighed and sped up her pace. She tried to ignore the eyebrows that must have risen as her stocking-clad ankles flashed past.

She was only a few steps behind him when he reached the far end of the great hall. Without so much as a pause, he swung to his left and disappeared around a corner.

Meena groaned.

When she rounded the corner, a wall of smells enveloped her. All of them delicious. Freshly popped corn layered over the sugary scents of hot waffle cones and ice cream.

At the far end of the room beneath a panel of windows, Alicia leaned across a high counter, talking with a tall young man who was scooping ice cream into glass dishes.

But there was no sign of Crane.

Meena started across the room, but got only a step before a strong hand grabbed her by the crook of the arm.

“Wait.” Crane pulled her back. “Give them a minute.”

Meena’s mouth dropped open. She expected to have to pry Crane’s hands off of the young man’s throat.

Crane pulled her back out of the café. He poked his nose around the corner of the door and watched his adolescent sister smiling up at the awkward young man. “She looks happy.”

Meena fisted her hands on her hips. “I demand you tell me what you’ve done with Spencer Crane.”

“It’s a good thing he isn’t here, isn’t it?” Crane grinned down at her. “The man can be quite a bore, I’ve heard.”

Meena blinked. “I’ve heard the same. On more than one occasion.”

At the counter, Alicia tilted her head back and giggled. Cheeks flushed, the young man studied the dish he was drying with close attention.

“It wasn’t Ramsay,” Meena said, her attention on the young couple.

“Once I saw where she was heading, I guessed as much.” Crane inclined his head. “Thank you for the effort.”

Meena wrinkled her nose. Praise from Spencer Crane. How odd. Odd in a good way.

She smoothed down the bodice of her deep blue dress and shook out her skirts.

Standing so close to the man made the room feel too small. Perhaps it was the sheer space he took up. Not that Crane was an large man. But he was tall and broad and powerful.

Meena ran a finger under the high neckline of her dress. He seemed to take up more than his fair share of oxygen, and what he didn’t consume, he heated in the most extraordinary manner.

They watched as Alicia attempted to conquer the towering sundae the young man placed before her. After several bites, she pushed the dessert toward him. The boy eyed the empty room and grabbed a spoon. They were making quick work of the treat.

The blissful look on the boy’s face made Meena smile, but the happiness in Alicia’s eyes filled her heart.

Crane was grinning as well. Watching him enjoy his sister’s happiness left Meena with a delightful, giddy feeling. “I’d say this Crane fellow has had reason to be a bore on occasion,” she offered.

“You think so?”

Meena watched Alicia and her young man finish the ice-cream. “I do.”

Spencer sighed. He threaded his arm through hers and pulled her close against him. “I don’t want to be that man. It seems to come naturally.”

Meena kept her gaze on the two young people and their vanishing treat. “You do have a fierce talent for it.”

Crane laughed and released her arm. “What I don’t have a talent for is raising a young girl—a young woman,” he corrected himself.

“You appear to be handling the situation admirably.”

“So far today, I can agree with you. It’s the six other days of the week that worry me.”

The slight smile teasing the outer edge of his lips made her heart lift.

Somehow, she had no idea what to do with her hands. She settled for winding the handles of her purse around her fingers. “Well then.” She cleared her throat. “One of us should find your aunt. I’m sure she’s worried by now.”

Spencer’s smile lingered. “And Alicia’s had enough time with her young man. I’ll get her.”

Suddenly shy, Meena turned away. “I’ll find your aunt. We’ll meet you near the entrance.”

She traced her steps back toward the flaming squids. Even in the artificial dark of the great hall, her steps felt light, as if buoyed by sunshine.

She was halfway past the nasty eel exhibit before she even noticed the sluggish gray creatures. “Good day,” she told them firmly, and stuck out her tongue.