𝟏𝟏. Mr And Mrs Estrada

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NOOR FIGURES THAT Marc isn't one to be flustered

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NOOR FIGURES THAT Marc isn't one to be flustered. She didn't expect it from him, but she at least thought he'd be the tiniest bit... awkward. But no. Clearly, the man is enjoying himself too much.

"Can you please stop smiling like you just won something?" she mutters to him he helps her off the boat.

His lopsided grin stretches. "Didn't I? Win something?"

Even Zagreus whistles. "Oh that one was smooth."

Noor hisses, growing ten shades of red. "Stop this, I need to be able to speak if I'm going to go undercover."

He laughs, the sound gravelly and low, making goosebumps rise on her neck. There's no way he isn't going to make her blow this whole operation up.

She looks around, assessing her surroundings to know what she's walking into. It seems to be a whole weird party. "Who's the guy again? And why does he have one of those things that knights used to run at each other on horses?"

"They're called El-Mermah games," Layla says, tying her hair up. "Kind of like jousting, but older and Egyptian. But instead of spears, expect a lot of guns."

Noor loses the colours in her face. "Do I have to?"

Marc takes their bags and hides them below the dock. "Yeah, stay alert. Don't do anything stupid, like getting yourself killed."

"I can barely do that on a daily basis," she ironises. "Have we considered the idea that I'm going to mess this up?"

"Hey, hey." He walks up to her, and puts his hands on her shoulders, heat seeping from the bond. "What happened to the woman who stood up to the Ennead in socks?"

"She had time to think this through, which is never good."

"I don't want to ruin the moment," Layla says, softly. "But we were followed."

Marc and Noor turn around to see two people on a boat, in the dark, coming up to the docks. Noor gulps. "Are those Harrow's men?"

"I don't know," Marc answers. "It could be."

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