"Balfour is back," Malloryn said as he seated himself at the head of the oval table that housed the rest of the Company of Rogues. Ten pairs of eyes looked back at him attentively.
Gemma ruled the team in Malloryn's absence, along with her lover, Obsidian, a dhampir assassin she'd lured from Balfour's side; Liam Kincaid and his wife, Ava, who were a contradiction of brawn and brains; Byrnes and his verwulfen wife, Ingrid, could hunt anything—including vampires; Charlie Todd could pluck the eyes from a man's sockets without him noticing, though his fiancée, Lark, might almost be better than him; Herbert, the butler who'd once been his personal assassin, fussed as he tried to pour tea for the ladies; and there at the end was Jack Fairchild, munitions expert and Malloryn's secret weapon against Balfour.
Most of them had been handpicked by himself; an elite team of blue bloods, verwulfen, and mechs who were at the top of their respective fields. Spies, thieves, bounty hunters, mechanical geniuses, and two Nighthawks who'd spent years tracking criminals and hunting murderers.
Lark was the only Rogue Malloryn hadn't personally vetted, but considering the fact she'd played a large role in rescuing him from Balfour's clutches in Russia, he'd welcomed her to the Company.
Besides, she and Charlie made a dynamic team. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"It's about bloody time," Byrnes said, his eyes lighting up. "As much as I enjoyed the break after Russia, I'm tried of looking over my shoulder and second-guessing every clue I find. Is it Balfour? Or am I just seeing things?"
"The question is," Ingrid growled, "where is he?"
"More importantly, how did he get in?" Kincaid had turned into an overprotective bear of late, since his wife's delicate condition had become common knowledge among the group.
"It won't have been Balfour," Gemma argued. "He'll have sent one of his agents."
"Excellent." Byrnes grimaced. "Jelena or Dido?"
Malloryn had known it was coming and managed to control his flinch at the mention of Jelena's name.
It was the dreams he couldn't control.
"Dido," Obsidian muttered. "If it were Jelena, she wouldn't have been able to restrict herself to just leaving a letter. She'd have left a body."
"Preferably Malloryn's," Byrnes noted.
Gemma glanced at him as if to gauge his reaction, but Malloryn ignored her. She alone knew how deep his scars following Russia went.
Charlie leaned back in his chair. "Lark and I think we found the point of entry. There's a faint chisel mark under the latch in the attic window. Couldn't have been there long. This morning, I'd imagine."
Malloryn arched a brow. "Herbert?"
The butler looked chagrined as he added blood to Ava's tea and replaced the small flask in its ice bath. "You have my abject apologies, Your Grace. I noticed nothing amiss."
And if one of his best assassins hadn't noticed an intruder, then no one would have.
"Hardly your fault." Malloryn drummed his fingers on the table. "So... it seems Balfour wants me to know he's back, which means he has plans afoot. He'll have been here in London for weeks—possibly longer—no doubt. And he won't have made this move unless he was fully prepared to restart the game. He'll be miles ahead of us at this stage."
"We destroyed his London base and the dhampir who were working for him here," Gemma mused. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't have allies remaining in London."
"We just don't know who," Ingrid said.
"Yet." This from Byrnes.
"We know his targets, however," Malloryn said. "Myself, the Duchess of Casavian, Lord Barrons, and the queen. We'll start there."
"You're last," Obsidian said, glancing up from his thoughts. "He wants you to see London burn, so he'll go after one of the others first."
"And the Ivory Tower's impenetrable," Gemma added, "which means the queen should be safe."
"Technically, it's not.... He penetrated it the last time he was in London," Charlie replied, heat flushing up the back of his neck as he glanced at Gemma.
Balfour's men had planted a mind-controlling device in her brain, and activated it when she was within reach of the queen. With her skillset, she'd been within inches of assassinating the queen when Obsidian, Byrnes, and Ingrid managed to stop her.
She'd also come very close to killing Malloryn himself.
"We cannot afford to presume the Ivory Tower is safe, but we're prepared to counter the neural stimulating device now," Malloryn said softly as Gemma flinched. Concern went both ways. She had her nightmares; he had his. "But Gemma's correct. The least-protected targets are Lord Barrons and the Duchess of Casavian.
"Which is why Byrnes and Ingrid will be setting up a team of Nighthawks near Barrons's household. Get a team in place to protect the household and then return. I'll need both of you shortly." Malloryn tossed the letter onto the table, and it slid to a halt in front of Charlie. The lad examined it. "While the rest of us are going to start tracking down Balfour."
"The paper's of excellent weight," Charlie said. "Good ink. Fine tip on the nib used to compose it. You'd find this sort of equipment in any blue blood lord's study."
"We always knew he was using several aristocrats to plot his coup. They're the ones who were most disenfranchised by the revolution three years ago. All Balfour needs to do is stir up old resentments, and they'll flock to his cause."
They'd be the ones who were most likely to have access to the Ivory Tower, where the queen resided, too.
"Do you think any of the Sons of Gilead survived your cull?" Gemma asked. "We cut off the head of the snake, so to speak, but there were a lot of noblemen who were involved—or sympathetic—who simply faded into the background once Lord Ulbricht died."
Lord Ulbricht and his cronies had formed the SOG as a means of overthrowing the queen. Unfortunately, Lord Ulbricht met a bad end and the cause disintegrated.