From the second Balfour put a bullet in Catherine's chest, he may as well have started digging that boy's grave.
Auvry was dead. Buried. Gone. Only Malloryn remained, a thin veneer of civility straining over the ligaments and bare bones of his rage.
And he laughed.
The sound filled the cellar, making Balfour flinch back in surprise.
"Do you think there's anything you can do to me that hasn't already been done?" he breathed, when the laughter choked in his throat."You already killed the woman I loved."
And he'd never dared love again.
"Did I? We're here to test that theory."
A chill ran through Malloryn as Balfour whisked the velvet from the table, revealing a pair of objects. "I'll even give you a clue as to what I plan."
The heat drained from Malloryn's face as he recognized the threat.
Not torture.
But something designed to cripple, all the same.
Two miniatures. Two women, their oval faces gleaming on darkened canvas. One as blonde and radiant as the sunlight, and the other dark and smiling a secret, sensual smile.
This was his Achilles heel.
"I must admit, it's been difficult to decide who to hurt first. I couldn't guess which one held your affections more, so I took both. On one side we have the glorious soprano, Mrs. Danner, and on the other, we have the calculating duchess, Adele."
That noise he'd heard.
He'd been right all along. There had been someone in his house.
"Which one will you choose to save?"
The breath exploded out of him.
Pain screamed through Malloryn's wrists as he tore at his restraints, but there was no way of escaping. Horror flooded through him. No. "You bastard! They're both innocent. This is between you and me—"
"It has never been solely between you and me. You made sure of that when you stole my blasted thrall. Killed my puppet prince. Ruined my power base here in London. So now I will return the favor. You might have enough time to save one of them," Balfour promised. "Even now your Company of Rogues rides to your rescue, guided, no doubt, by that beacon in your head."
Balfour wanted them to find him.
"Or perhaps both will die," Balfour mused. "I would enjoy that, I think."
"You son of a bitch. You—"
"Now, now, Malloryn. Mind your temper. You wouldn't want me to think I'd actually scored a blow." A smile stretched thin. "You can pretend you don't have a heart all you like. I will always find it."
"They are innocent."
"Are they?" Balfour examined his pocket watch, and then exchanged a slow smile with Dido. "Ready to enjoy the fireworks, my dear?"
Dido gave Malloryn a long, narrow-eyed look. "You should cut his throat now."
"But that's not half as much fun," Balfour chided. Grabbing his cane, he headed toward the door. "I am being generous, Malloryn. You have half an hour to find and rescue both women. Or fail. Sweet Adele is at the Ivory Tower, where you first laid eyes upon her. And your mistress is at the opera where you met. Both sites are loaded with enough dynamite to blow the entire room—and each woman—to pieces. Alas, you only ruined half my stockpile. You have half an hour until the fuses light."
Dido put a small clock on the table, its hand ticking one minute past half-eleven.
"I am interested to see which choice you will make. The soprano? Or your wife? I guess we'll soon find out."
Loud shouting echoed above them.
Balfour gave him a sinister smile. "Looks like the cavalry's arrived."
"No!" he screamed, as Dido opened a secret door in the wall.
"Tick, tock, Malloryn." Balfour faded back into the shadows. "Make your choice. When the clock strikes midnight...." His voice lowered as he began to vanish into a secret tunnel behind a tapestry. "Boom."
"Are you all right?"
Byrnes tore his shackles open, but Malloryn shoved him out of the way, fighting free of the ropes around his ankles. Everything hurt, but there was no time for that now.
"What is it?" Byrnes asked sharply.
"He's got Adele and Giulia Danner." Malloryn raked his hands through his hair. "How many Rogues are with you?"
"Only me and Ingrid. The others are working in pairs across the city, trying to track you. We heard the tracking device start clicking a half mile away."
Two of them. It might work. "Giulia's at the opera house. Find her and get her out. Balfour said there's enough dynamite there to blow the room to pieces, so be careful. And hurry." He turned on Byrnes. "I need a weapon."
Byrnes tossed him a knife and a pistol. No doubt he had several others.
"You're going after Adele?" Ingrid asked breathlessly.
It had never been a choice.
"I'll take the Tower. If you can get in contact with any of the other Rogues, tell them to head in my direction. I may need help finding her."
The Ivory Tower.
Of course.
This was where it all began. Where it all ended.
Malloryn galloped into the courtyard, his horse's flanks foamed with sweat. He'd hired it from a startled hack driver by the simple expedient of tossing one of his gold rings at the man.
Several guards lowered their stunners, recognizing his face—and the look upon it.
"Your Grace?" Halstead, the new Master of the Coldrush Guards, asked. "What is it?"
"Is the queen here?" he demanded, swinging his leg over the horse's bare back and hitting the ground.
"No, she's—"
"Lock down the tower and start evacuating people. I have credible news of a threat. There may be explosives on the grounds."
He barked orders as he surveyed the grounds. Ivory Tower stood at the heart of the walled compound, soaring into the heavens like a marble finger pointing directly toward the stars. There was no way Balfour could have gotten explosives inside it, was there? Malloryn had changed the guard rotations, virtually locking it down after he received the letter from Balfour.
But then, it wasn't the only building in the complex.
Four towers stood at each corner of the heavy stone walls that circled the bailey: Thorne, Oak, Shield, and Crowe.
Adele could be anywhere on the grounds. But where, damn it? He didn't have time to search the entire keep. He needed a location.