Once out of the building, he pulled her around the corner, drawing his wand from the sleeve of his coat just as he wrapped his free arm around her. Palmer apparated them instantly through the wards of his flat, the sound of his wand hitting the floor was the only noise in the room above their heavy breathing.
"Thank Circe." He panted against her neck, drinking Saoirse in like she was air. Montague had been watching over his shoulder for the last six years, dreading Death Eaters would come calling for him again. And now he feared for Saoirse too.