Mortals were never nearly as good at hiding as they thought. Not from someone with thousands of years of experience looking for things and people. Hounslow was her recent stop. The boy had a cousin here who owned some kind of shop he might be hiding out in. That had turned out to be empty -- it was so easy to get permission to enter a place during the day then return and search it at night. Everything suggested, though, that he had been there.

The scorch marks on the wall told her of a confrontation. The bricks were still warm to the touch. Which meant he was capable of as high heat of flames as the news claimed. And not far from them--

A familiar sight. A familiar ghost.

"Hello there."