I shake my head. “Clearly, I should’ve gone into banking.”
He steps forward and grabs my suitcase, loading the trunk. I watch him lift it with ease. Biting my lower lip, he clicks a button to shut the trunk, and then he meanders over to the passenger side.
“Come on. It’s a long drive.”
I get in and close the door, the thick doors silencing the sound of the other car tires on the street. The soft leather is warm, and when I glance at the dashboard, I see that he has my seat warmer on.
“Seven hours?” I ask, looking at my hands and trying not to smile.
“If we don’t stop too much,” he muses, a smile tugging at his lips. “Road trip!” he adds in an American accent.
I laugh as he backs out, and then we’re off. I’m quiet for a few minutes—admiring the car and the warmth. It’s perfectly cozy in here, though rain is beginning to pelt the windshield.
“You know, for someone driving such a sexy car, you really don’t take advantage.”
He glances at me quickly before returning his eyes to the road.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. You drive like a grandpa,” I add, shaking my head as he comes to a complete stop at the next light.
“There is no other way to drive in Oxford,” he murmurs, his voice low. He turns the music on with a flick of his hand.
“I like this song,” I say, recognizing the Billie Eilish song instantly.
“Me too.” We’re stopped at a light, and he looks over at me again. “She reminds me of you.”
My eyes find his. He’s watching me with unclaimed arousal, something fiery behind his black eyes.
“Me?” I whisper.
He nods, unconsciously licking his lips as his eyes flit to my mouth. “Brave. Expressive. Dark.” The light turns green, and he looks away, his eyes on the road. “The first time I heard one of her songs, I played it about twenty times. Because of you.”
I look out of my passenger seat window, focusing on the drops of water on the shiny glass, trying not to smile.
“So, what exactly am I getting myself into this weekend?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the road. I watch the passing rain-slick buildings, the dark green of the trees, wet and wilting from the heavy downpour. We finally merge onto the motorway, and I expect the sound of the asphalt and rain on the tires to roar to life, but it stays deathly quiet, and I can hear myself breathing. I guess you pay for silence with a car like this.
Benedict sighs, and I only hear it because of how quiet it is.
“I need you to follow my lead, Evelyn.”
I turn to face him. “I understand that. But what’s the plan?”
He looks at me for a brief second before turning back to the road. I see his body resign before he opens his mouth.
“We’re going undercover. Hayes works with MI6. Our hope is to be able to provide the authorities with video and sound evidence of the Offering and everything it entails. The authorities will be waiting, so it should be pretty seamless. This is only step one, though, because other Directors will be appointed after tomorrow. But this—tomorrow night—is akin to killing the queen bee. The other bees may find another hive, but hopefully, we’ll have made a large-enough dent in their system to cause it to collapse.”
Something dark passes over his face—a shadow of doubt. It’s gone in an instant.
I let out a loud whoosh of air. “Oh. Nothing crazy, then,” I reply sarcastically. He chuckles. “So, Hayes will be there this weekend?”
Benedict nods. “Yes. He won’t be at the Offering, but he’ll be outside.” He opens his mouth to say something, but then pauses. When I look at him, he’s frowning. “You can trust him, Evelyn. I promise.”
I narrow my eyes and cock my head. “Okay,” I say slowly.
His jaw ticks, and then he continues to speak before I can ask any more questions. “How were your classes this week?” Both of his arms are at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel. I tamp down another chuckle at how he’s driving.
“Fine,” I answer, pulling at a loose thread on my sweater. “Honestly, I feel like a fraud half of the time.”
