He leaned forward, knuckles digging into his thigh.
"Oh, yes. I was hoping you would be the key to my plans to bring Malloryn down."
"The key?" Adele asked. "In what way?"
"But that is where the problem lies," Dido said patiently. "For I cannot trust you, it seems."
"I assure, my lady, I'll breathe not a word of—"
"You don't have to," Dido interrupted. "Because Malloryn is listening to every word we say. Isn't he?"
"Pardon? I'm not quite sure what—"
"You lie very well, but you're working for him. You have been all along. But Malloryn's not the only one who can listen in on conversations. And there is someone who's been dying to reacquaint himself with you. Lord Corvus, if you will join us?"
"Lord Corvus?" Adele gasped, and there was a muffled sound of voices he couldn't quite hear.
"I trust our negotiations are complete, Corvus?"
"I am more than well satisfied."
A scream echoed through the phonograph. The sound of something crashing. And then Malloryn was on his feet and moving toward the edge of the rooftop.
"Let go of me!" Adele cried.
Adele trembled before no one. But someone had hurt her, someone had made her so afraid for her life that she'd seen marriage to him as a blessing somehow.
She'd refused to tell him who it was.
Malloryn wasn't a gambler, but he'd have bet good coin that someone was Corvus.
"We're coming with you," Ingrid said, ripping her coat off and tossing it aside. "And don't bother arguing."
One last scream echoed through the device, and the color faded from Malloryn's world as the predator within him awoke. "Then make sure you stay out of my way."
Adele spun around as a patch of shadow detached itself from the gloom near the far wall. Lord Corvus. Her nightmare. Her gaze shot to his face as he lowered his mask; those sharp cheekbones, hawkish nose, and the bottomless pits of his eyes.
This time Adele didn't bother hiding her fear as she took two steps away from him. Heat flooded in from her extremities until her heart was a rushing, pulsing engine that throbbed with it.
The passage to the gaming room stood behind her, but she'd never make it in time.
Not with Dido watching her with an amused smile as she sipped her champagne.
"Well, well, well," Lord Corvus drawled. "I promised we'd meet again, my dear, and here we are." His hungry gaze raked her from head to toe. "Here you are. In my own domain."
Where had he come from? There was only a wall of ivy in that corner.
"Lord Corvus," she blurted.
The sinister lord took a step forward into the gaslit circle of light, his dark wig and brows gleaming like a raven's wings. "Did you know, Devoncourt actually thought he could keep me away from you, even whilst he flaunted you beneath my nose."
Adele took an uneasy step back. They knew she was working for Malloryn. She had no means to defend herself beyond her hemlock ring and her little knife. No means to run. All she could do was hope Malloryn had heard this.
And that he would come for her.
"I trust our negotiations are complete, Corvus?" Dido stood, slipping her gloves back on.
"Devoncourt won't be happy," he mused. "This thwarts his plans."
"Such a shame," she mocked.
"Then I am more than well satisfied."
Corvus lunged toward her, and Adele fled, sending an enormous urn crashing to the ground. A hand snatched her skirts, and then strong arms wrapped around her, dragging her back into an unbreakable embrace. She screamed and kicked, but it was to no avail.
"Let go of me!"
Corvus slammed her against the nearest wall as Dido vanished into the gloom.
"I've been wanting to get you alone for a very long time." He brushed his cheek, where her little knife had scored the pale skin once upon a time. Thanks to the craving virus, there was not a blemish there, but he'd promised he'd return the favor. "I owe you for that debacle in Abernathy's garden."
"I apologized," she whispered.
"But you were never punished for it. You owe me satisfaction, my dear. And I've come to collect."
Chapter 18
"You want to slip the lock? Or shall I?" Charlie whispered.
Lark gave him a look that could best be described as, are you serious?
"Fine. After you," he said, cupping his hands and hoisting Lark ten feet up the wall.
The toes of her rubber-soled shoes slipped into cracks in the brickwork, and she hauled herself up the side of Sir George Hamilton's house like a spider. His position gave him an excellent view of her backside in her tight leather breeches—
An elbow drove into his ribs, and he barely managed to contain an oof.
"Concentrate," Gemma whispered.
"I was."
Her arched eyebrow spoke volumes. It was frightening how much she and Lark had in common.
Charlie winked at her.
"Think you can handle this?" he murmured, offering her his cupped hands. "Breaking and entering isn't really your style."
"Oh, you sweet boy," she breathed. "I was running across rooftops before you could even crawl."
Then she was scampering up the wall after Lark as if to prove it to him.
Charlie lunged at the nearby brick wall, his foot striking halfway up it. He pushed off, twisting in midair, and caught the edge of the window on the second story. It took mere seconds to join the ladies on the ledge just below the window Adele had marked out as Hamilton's study.
Lark cracked the window, pausing to see if anyone had heard.
A dog's howl echoed through the neighborhood, but other than that, there was no outcry. Not that he'd expected it. Obsidian was keeping watch on a rooftop across the street and hadn't reported any guards set on the house. Either Hamilton was a bit player in this entire scheme, or too arrogant to believe he'd ever be brought low.
Lark found the sun symbol on the fireplace and pressed it. A faint groan of stone on stone, and then the fireplace swung open, just as Adele had described.
Darkness loomed behind it.