"What are the requirements for membership, then? Can ladies join?"
"Unfortunately, it's strictly a gentleman's club. Members may invite those of the opposite sex for the night, but only blue bloods are initiated."
"Like the Echelon in its peak?"
Women had been mere chattel when the prince consort reigned; denied the Blood Rites where a nobleman's son was judged by his peers and found worthy of receiving the craving virus, and thus near immortality.
"Similar. Angel's Fall provides a place to play for those who find themselves reduced in status."
Her ears pricked.
She was right.
The members of Angel's Fall were all blue blood nobles who longed for a return to the old ways. The perfect recruitment ground for the Rising Sons. And if they were lucky, there would be membership rolls listing the current members.
Hopefully, Malloryn would be smart enough to make the same connections she had.
"Who makes these rules?"
"The founding four. They call themselves the Four Horsemen."
Someone had a high opinion of themselves. Adele stifled a giggle in her champagne. "The Four Horsemen? It's starting to sound like some sort of occult society, and not a club at all."
"They intend to bring about a new age," Devoncourt said. "The heralds of the Apocalypse."
"Can I meet them?" she asked. "This all sounds so dashed exciting."
"Alas, their identities remain unknown. We only know them as Death, War, Famine, and Conquest."
"It's rumored Lord Corvus owns a share in the business," she murmured. "Is he one of your Horsemen?"
He looked at her sharply. "Where did you hear that?"
"I make it my business to know what Corvus is up to." Her throat was suddenly dry. Adele finished the rest of her champagne in a hurry. "Is... is he here?"
"Gadding about in the bowels of the building," Devoncourt said. "Why?"
"Oh, we just.... We had a run-in once." When I hemlocked him in Lord Abernathy's garden. "He's not very fond of me."
"Ah, that explains why he seemed surprised I'd invited you. I assured him you were under my protection. He won't come near you."
"Well, if he's a Horseman, then how are you meant to deny him?" She made a pleased sound when she saw the flicker of frustration on his face. "You're a Horseman too, aren't you?"
And no doubt the one who'd set this all into motion.
He turned it all around on her. "You ask a lot of questions."
"Well, of course I do," Adele replied. "This all sounds so lurid. It's almost straight out of a gothic novel."
"You do realize that if you repeat any of this to anyone…." Devoncourt covered the silken threat with a smile.
Adele let the feathers of her fan brush against his lips. "Who am I going to tell?" Her voice dropped sadly. "My only friend, Lena, left me behind when she married that hulking brute verwulfen of hers. Nobody else listens to me. You're the only one who ever pays me such courtesies." She suddenly pressed her gloved hands to hot cheeks. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm babbling and dominating the conversation. Mother always told me I should let a gentleman speak, and I promise I will. I think that last glass of champagne went straight to my head. Do you think we can get some fresh air?"
Devoncourt looked like he was regretting inviting her. "Of course. This way."
He offered his arm and led her through an archway draped in decadent red velvet curtains.
"Where are we going?" Adele murmured, toying nervously with her emeralds. Though she knew Malloryn was listening to everything she said, she couldn't stop herself from worrying a little. She'd meant a balcony.
"Somewhere private."
He led her to a small garden alcove at the rear of the building. Glass windows lined the ceiling, offering a view of London's night sky. Lush vines trailed up the walls.
"What a lovely garden," she said, hoping Malloryn would hear. "One would never know an orangery was tucked away back here at the rear of the building."
"This place was a monastery, once upon a time," Devoncourt said. "The monks grew vegetables here, but we've made some small adjustments. This is our Garden of Eden."
And you're the snake.
"That's better," Adele murmured, as the noise died to a lull.
"Is it?" Devoncourt pressed her against a tall, marble column sheathed in ivy. Instantly, she set her hand to his chest with a warning quirk of the brow, but he merely smiled and captured her hand, lifting it to his lips.
"He's not here, cherub. No one to see. No one to hear."
"I know. Maybe I'm being whimsical again, my lord."
"Or maybe you're playing games."
There was a faint hint of warning to his tone.
"Aren't we all?"
"What did Malloryn say to you in the gardens the other night?" he suddenly asked. "He seemed quite intently interested in you, despite your claims of indifference."
"You were watching?"
"A friend mentioned it. She said you seemed flattered by his attentions. You encouraged them."
Adele pushed past him, sucking in a sharp breath. All the hairs down the back of her spine lifted. "It's not that."
"No? It's clear he's pursuing you."
"He noticed your flirtations," she said, thinking quickly. "He didn't approve of them. It seems even Malloryn is like a dog with a bone when it comes to other gentlemen sniffing around my skirts."
"You like his attentions."
How much had he seen of that moment in the garden?
"I don't... dislike them," she admitted carefully.
"And yet you're here."
The dazzling smile he shot her seemed charming, but dark edges of distrust glinted in his eyes. Pushing off the wall, he stalked toward her.
Adele didn't dare take a step back. He was already suspicious. "You invited me."
"I didn't think you'd actually come," he said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Why did you come, cherub?"
"Because I was curious. I was home. Alone. Once more. What do you want me to say? He ignores me all the time. I hate it. The only time he's ever paid me any attention has been of late. After you kissed me."