“Saturday afternoon, to keep up the pretense of heading home to Shropshire, she took the train to London. From there she vaulted to a broom cupboard at school, where the prince waited. “Anyone following you?” She shook her head. The prince gave her a dose of vaulting aid. “Let us go then.” Their first vault took them to a musty-smelling, cramped space not very different from the broom cupboard they’d left behind. “Where are we?” “Somewhere inside the bell tower of a cathedral in Birmingham. Let ...me know if you need a few minutes.” She shook her head, determined not to show any weakness. She lasted two more such vaults before her head spun. It didn’t matter where she was now—another long-disused room by the look of it. She leaned against the wall and fought her nausea. He checked her pulse, his fingers warm and light on her wrist. Then he gave her a powder as sweet as pure sugar. “What is it?” she mumbled. “Something that will make my kisses taste like chocolate.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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