Page 10 of To Catch A Rogue

"Isn't he dead?" Everyone had heard of the former prince consort's spymaster, but she was fairly certain the Duke of Malloryn had killed him the night of the revolution.

"Not dead enough. He's been hiding in the shadows ever since, plotting the queen’s—and Malloryn's—downfall. We managed to thwart his attempt on the queen's life, but his lackeys kidnapped the duke in the process.

"So Gemma Townsend—she's the head of the Rogues—has put together a rescue mission. We've got information leading us to the duke's possible whereabouts—we've even got a bloody invitation—but getting Malloryn out is going to be difficult. It's going to have to be a game of sleight-of-hand played out in the open if we've any hope of getting anywhere near Malloryn without getting our throats cut, and that's where you come in. We need the best of the best, and that's you, Lark. I need you. I need your help."

"What makes you think the duke is still alive?"

"Balfour wants him to suffer."

"I stealthings. Not people."

"You're the best," he repeated, staring into her eyes. "And you know when we work together, it's magic. I barely have to tell you what I'm thinking. You've got experience in breaking into veritable fortresses. There's no lock you can't pick, no wall you can't scale. I'm working with a team of spies, bounty hunters, and ex-Nighthawks. They're experts when it comes to finding people and solving crimes, but they don't pull off jobs like this. I need you."

On one hand, it was tempting; working with Charliewasmagic. There was something indescribable about taking on the most dangerous, riskiest jobs in the business and carrying them out slick as a whistle that stirred her pride.

On the other hand, she'd be working with Charlie again.

And the last time they worked together, she lost the only father she'd ever known and nearly died.

"We don't know precisely where they're keeping Malloryn. So not only do we have to locate him, we're going to have to rescue him with all eyes upon us.

"And if I were Balfour, I'd lock Malloryn up so tight it would be an almost impossible break and enter," Charlie told her, the corner of his mouth lifting in an almost irresistible smile. "My friend Byrnes thinks we can't do it. Help me prove him wrong."

It was so incredibly tempting.

He was saying all the right things, and it stirred her competitive nature like nothing else.

"No." She sunk enough steel into her voice that Charlie flinched. Lark pushed to her feet, ignoring her bloodied tea. "My answer is no."

"Why not?"

She tossed him the coat he'd loaned her. "Because when I work with you, I become someone else. I take risks, even when I know better. It's all about the thrill of the challenge, the adventure, the chase."

And I forget everything when you smile at me.

"You've never been one to play it safe," he said, in an incredulous voice. "Half the time we got into trouble as children, it was because of somethingyou'dplanned."

All she could think of was Tin Man's warning:You cannot afford to draw attention, Irinka.You must be small. Quiet. Unnoticeable. Small is safe.

"I'm sorry." She started walking away.

"Do svidanya, Lark," Charlie murmured, behind her.

For a second she didn't think she'd heard him correctly. The floor dropped out from beneath her feet.

Lark spun around. "What did you just say?"

Charlie flashed her one of his old smiles as he stood; it lit the world, blinding in its sincerity. "Gemma's been teaching me some Russian."

"Why?"

His blue eyes locked on her, and he shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You don't want to be involved, so I won't involve you."

Veritable fortresses. Impossible break and enter.

There was not a damned castle or bank in England she couldn't crack, if she'd half a mind.

But what if he wasn't talking about England?