Life, once again, went back to normal for Jenna. Well, as normal as it was possible, anyway. The city of London faced the biggest crime-wave in the last decade, but that wasn't her problem. She was also moderately famous now, or more famous than she was before: if a Hollywood dream couple wouldn't have announced their divorce at the very next day, newspapers would have probably written a lot of articles about her after she defeated The Priest. Jenna didn't mind, in fact, she felt exactly the opposite way: her kinda secret relationship with Robert couldn't have stayed a secret for long with reporters buzzing around.

'They will get back to you once they are out of stories,' predicted Robert on a morning, a week or so after the fight in the Tate Modern. 'You are young, very attractive and a hero, who is also a daughter of a rising politician. If you play your cards right, you can be on Britains Got Talent. Do you know how to sing? Or dance?'

'I know how to kick your ass, is that count?' she asked back.

'I'm not kidding, at least, not entirely,' spread his arms Robert. 'I've got invited to Britains Got Talent after I stopped the magical storm last year.'

'Did you go?' asked Jenna.

'No. I don't know how to sing,' answered Robert. Jenna laughed.

They've already finished breakfast. Robert was doing the dishes, while Jenna was getting ready for work. The Jones and Sons profited from her slight fame: people thought if Jenna Carano and the flesh-golem slayer Remy Durant worked there, they must have been the best in the business. Jenna didn't know if that was true, but they've got much more interesting cases, so she was happy.

'What's your plan for today?' asked the girl. Robert was still on sabbatical leave and spent most of his time by painting. 'You gonna pick up Rose from the airport, right?'

Rose, taking Jenna's "a girl needs her fun" advice to heart, went big and spent a week in Paris with Cornelius Blake. That lucky bitch, Jenna thought, but she was happy for her. But now that Agent Blake got a new assignment that led him back to the United States, Rose was about to come home.

'That's tomorrow,' said Robert. 'Today I invited Claire over. She talks about video games so much I actually fancy to try some of them. They sound like fun.'

Jenna looked at him with her eyebrow raised.

'So you two will be alone, in here, alone? Playing games? Alone?'

'Are you jealous?' asked Robert with a smile.

Jenna shook her head.

'I have no idea, honestly. Never had anyone to be jealous over. And Claire is a great girl. I'm gonna scratch her eyes out, but I love her. No, that's not right. No eye-scratching. Right?'

'Right,' nodded Robert. He wiped his hands from the water, walked up to Jenna and put his hands onto her shoulders. 'You are the most beautiful, most interesting, most exciting woman I've ever met, Jenna. You have no reason to be jealous of anyone, ever, I promise.'

'Okay… Sorry, girlfriend in training. Also, take off your pants, now.'

Some time later Jenna got dressed again. She was already late from work, but what the hell? Mr Jones never expected her to be on time anyway.

She swore, for the thousandth time, that she will buy a car, or even better, a motorcycle, while she was standing in the carriage of the Underground. In fact, they actually agreed on a time with Marcus to go and look at some, but then that dreadful night came, and now Jenna didn't feel like bothering him with things like that. He lost a family member, after all, even so unconventional.

He was also tasked with the transfer of The Priest: the MAGE wanted him in their own special jail as soon as possible. Jenna hadn't even seen him since that night, and she knew that neither did Robert.

In the middle of all changes, one thing remained the same: how annoying Oliver Grimes could be. The hunter gloated endlessly about a seriously dangerous banshee he defeated a few days ago, to anyone in the office who was willing to listen. That list was short to begin with, so after a while Grimes continued his monologue just in general, not aiming it for anyone. He even managed to sneak some competition in it: he stated that a banshee was much more dangerous than any sorcerer could ever be, hence, while Jenna was busy helping out the Brits' useless police, he, a real man, did a real man's job.

'A banshee is only dangerous if you are dumb enough to listen to its scream,' said Kahn from behind his newspaper. 'Kind of like yourself. Now can you please be quiet? I'm trying to read here.'

That, of course, was the beginning of another fight, which Jenna wasn't keen to follow, so she got up, beckoned to Remy and they both left. It was time for a coffee anyway.

'I am fairly sure that this "banshee" was only a noisy ghost, by the way,' said Remy once they were on the street, a safe distance from the American's tantrum. It was a cold, sleepy, usual weekday, with the promise of rain on the grey sky.

'Yeah,' nodded Jenna, going around a pallet of fresh vegetables someone left on the pathway in front of a closed restaurant. 'I'd check his file, but I don't feel like messing with him today.'

'Which brings us to the question: what is wrong with you?' asked Remy.

'What do you mean?' she asked back. They passed a coffee shop Jenna didn't even value to look at. She knew where she could get real coffee.

'It's just… You are different. You smile a lot. You are kinda patient. You were even nice yesterday! It's very unsettling. If I wouldn't know better, I'd say you are…' he took a big breath like someone who is about to say something very unpleasant. '...happy.'

'Nonsense,' Jenna scoffed. 'What makes you think that you could even notice things like that? You are like what, sixteen?'

They turned into a narrow alley between a McDonald's and another coffee shop. The few people around minded their own business: early deliveries, opening restaurants.

'I'm twenty and you know it,' Remy answered. 'More importantly, I'm French. Our capital city is called the "Capital of Love" for a reason. While yours is called the "Capital of mildly annoying weather".

'Let me stop you right there, dude,' said Jenna, stopping herself too, in the middle of the alley. 'Love? No, no, no, no, nobody is talking about love at all.'

'I mean, you are living with a man, Jenna' pointed out Remy.

'Because I'm a genius, that's why!' she said. 'I finally figured out that getting laid is much easier if you have a man at hand every time you feel like it!' she walked away as if she won the argument.

'And that's the only reason, right?' asked Remy, following her. They reached a little kiosk that sold coffee in paper cups. Jenna bought a black for herself and a mocha for Remy because Frenchmen apparently had no idea how to drink coffee.

'Yeah, I mean, I think about him a lot, and I want him to be safe and happy, I am constantly amazed by how smart and talented he is, and I want to spend time with him like, even with our clothes on, but that's nothing, right? What would you call yourself if you had the same feelings like those for a man?'

'If I had the exact same feelings, I'd call myself gay,' he said, taking a sip from his mocha. 'And deeply in love, of course. Just like you are.'

'I am in what now?' she looked at Remy in disbelief.

'If that helps, he clearly is in love with you, too,' the boy added.

'Stop using the "L"-word, it freaks me out,' she said. 'That's bullshit, dude. I don't do that. Never did.'

Remy shrugged.

'Up to you, Jenna. It's not like you two are happy or living together or brighten up every room you are in together by the mere strength of your… Your whatever which is definitely not love.'

Jenna stopped dead again, with a shocked expression on her face.

'Shit,' she said. 'I'm in love with him.'

'I wonder what tipped you off,' murmured Remy. 'Such genius…'

'No, you don't understand,' the girl continued to which Remy just rolled his eyes. 'I love him. Geez, that's fucking weird. I love Robert Montgomery. What do I do now?'

'You could maybe tell him…' suggested Remy. 'No, not over your phone, what is wrong with you?'

Jenna shrugged and put away her phone.

'I was just checking the time,' she lied. 'Wait a second. You said he loves me, too.'

'Very, very obviously,' nodded Remy patiently.

'Nah, that can't be right. Why would he?' asked Jenna confused.

Remy groaned.

'Are you for real?' he shook his head. 'Why wouldn't he?'

They returned to the main street but took a turn to the opposite direction from the office. None of them was keen to go back for another Grimes-session.

'I don't know, no-one ever did,' she replied. 'Probably because I'm a mess, I am weird and I don't know how to be a functioning adult… Well, except for some very grown-up parts, mind you, but is that enough?'

'It isn't,' said Remy. 'Fortunately, you are also smart, funny, brave and kind. Listen, Jenna, you need to give yourself a break every now and then, okay? I think you have got something great going on, something you should have had a long time ago, so try not to fuck it up with your insecure bullshit, okay?'

Jenna didn't answer immediately. When she did, she sounded deep in thought.

'You know, even though you are only sixteen…'

'Twenty.'

'...you are actually kinda wise. I guess I will do just like you said.'

Remy nodded and drank a bit of mocha. They continued their walk in a friendly silence until Jenna's phone beeped.

'That's weird,' she said. 'It's Luther. He wants me to visit.'

'The bartender from the Broken Shield?' asked Remy 'Why, you two are friends or something?'

'Kinda, I guess. At least I think he doesn't hate me as much as the rest of humanity. He didn't say why, though. Fancy a burger? We could check out now.'

'We should be working in the office, Jenna,' pointed out Remy.

'What's your point?' asked Jenna.

'Never mind,' sighed Remy. 'Let's go.'

The Underground in the middle of the day was almost bearable. It was only slightly overcrowded and the only moron playing his music out loud was in the other end of the carriage.

'Why is always a guy on the metro doing this?' asked Remy, shaking his head.

'Nobody knows,' shrugged Jenna. She remembered how Robert defended her honour against one of those guys and smiled.

The Broken Shield was deserted, but it wasn't a surprise. It was way too early for drinking and wasn't quite lunch-time either.

The pub never changed, not since Jenna first visited it. Non-matching, random furniture at one side, cosy, leather-covered booths on the other and a huge fireplace surrounded by comfortable armchairs in the corner. Behind the bar, on the wall hang the fae bartender, Luther's old gear: a shield broken in half and a beautifully made longsword. It matched with its owner, who was a huge man with dark skin and a black goatee. He looked over forty, but everyone knew that he was older than the city of London itself.

'I only asked you here, Jenna,' said Luther, looking over Remy.

'He is my emotional supporting Frenchman,' answered Jenna, climbing up on a bar chair. 'He tells me what I feel.'

'Seriously, what is wrong with you?' asked Remy.

'Nobody knows,' said Jenna then looked at Luther. 'So, what's up?'

Luther reached for Jenna's favourite whiskey but the girl shook her head.

'Just a coke, please,' she said. Luther looked at her with his eyebrow raised; Jenna never said no for alcohol. The bartender put down two bottles of coke on the counter.

'I heard congratulations are in order. You managed what nobody else could, and defeated The Priest,' Luther said. He had a deep voice, and even though his statue-like features rarely showed any emotions, Jenna could have sworn that he was impressed.

'I have my moments,' shrugged Jenna. She really didn't want to get into the details: she wasn't supposed to know the kind of magic she used for that, and Luther was the last person she wanted to tell about that. Jenna was sure that he wouldn't be happy to know that the Old Talk, the language of magic, fell into human hands again. His people made serious efforts in the past to end that.

Besides, The Priest might have been a prisoner, but he refused to talk or cooperate, not to mention they caught him after he finished his plan, so the success was bittersweet at best.

'You still did a favour to this world,' said Luther. 'Quite remarkable, given that you are only a human.'

Luther never hid his low opinion about human beings.

'Flattering,' nodded Jenna. 'So, why are we here?'

Luther looked at the front door and it closed itself. Jenna's fight or flight reflex kicked in but she made herself stay where she was.

'This is a very… Sensitive issue,' the bartender said. 'I assume you will tell it to your friend, the Montgomery kid, but that is all right, his knowledge might come in handy. But apart from that, I need your discretion for now.'

'Sure, sure. Get to the point already,' said the girl impatiently.

Then Luther said a sentence Jenna hoped she will never hear:

'Someone is using the Old Talk here in the city, and I need you to find and stop them.'

'Luther, I…' Jenna started, but the fae lifted his hand to stop her.

'I know about you and Robert. It was an accident and you didn't tell anyone. I understand why you decided to tell him. I'm not talking about you two.'

'Hold on,' pitched in Remy. 'You know the Old Talk?'

'Only two words,' said Jenna in a defending manner. 'No big deal.'

'It's not desirable,' added Luther. 'But given the circumstances, I'll allow it.'

'That's nice of you,' said the girl ironically. 'I like not being murdered.'

'Anyway,' raised his voice Luther. 'It started after the battle of Trafalgar Square. First I thought my old senses were cheating me. But more and more sorcerers use Words every day, I'm sure now. Someone is teaching them. Powers that had been asleep for centuries are awoken now.'

'That must be that Goddess chick, right?' asked Remy. 'But you said she was the servant of The Priest now, didn't you, Jenna?'

'Impossible. Whatever she is now, she is the opposite of anything that can die,' shook his head Luther. 'There is no way for The Priest to control her.'

'Merda,' said Jenna. 'That bitch lied to me.'

'This conversation is so not good for my mental well-being,' sighed Remy. 'Care to explain?'

'She visited me in my dream,' jabbered Jenna. 'She said The Priest used her as a weapon and that we have to kill him before he does… Something, she wasn't exactly specific.'

'Sounds like she wanted him out of the picture if you ask me,' said Remy.

'Probably because he indeed wanted to use her, and was looking for her,' added Luther. 'I think they got separated right when Montgomery defeated them or not long after. But the Goddess already knew everything she needed: sorcerers don't know the Old Talk anymore. They are weak. She could be a literal goddess, she had what every moron ever needed: teachable power.'

'You mean, she has like, followers? A cult?' frowned Jenna.

'It would explain the growing number of the spoken Old Talk,' nodded Luther. 'Magic hasn't been this alive since the middle ages.'

'You are saying that like it was a bad thing, man,' shook his head Remy. 'But we were scavenging on the leftover magic here since, like, forever. I think it's time we have a little more.'

'Yeah, that might be true,' agreed Jenna. 'But I'm sure the Goddess is not teaching the right people. Just think about it: she needs overly loyal soldiers for whatever she is after, even if it's just not going back to her statue. And people who tend to be fanatics, usually dangerous. That and the Old Talk… It's a bad combination.'

'I'm afraid none of you understands, Jenna,' said Luther and his face looked sad now, the first time since Jenna knew him. 'My people took away the Old Talk from humans once, and they haven't changed their mind since then. They might have left this world but they are keeping an eye on it nevertheless. And if they notice what is going on, they will come back to destroy the knowledge.'

'Good, problem solved,' said Jenna happily. 'Just make sure not to mention me and Montgomery when they get here,' but she knew already that wasn't what Luther meant.

'When they get here,' the fae said, 'they will wipe out the city, probably the whole country with all the people living here.'