Page 106 of To Catch A Rogue

So, so sweet....

He slammed into the opposite wall of the cell, wiping the blood from his lips. Shuddering as he tried to get the taste of her blood out of his mouth and push the monster deep within.

"What did you just say?" Ava's skirtswhishedas she found her feet.

"Stay where you are."

Her face was so pale he was afraid she might faint. "But... it's only been a week and a bit. I wasn't.... I wasn't certain. I thought it might be the stress. Oh, my goodness."

Sweet Ava, who formed the heart and soul of the Company of Rogues.

"Does he...?"

"No!" She pressed her hands to her mouth. "No, he doesn't know. I didn't know."

"I promise I will get you out of here," Malloryn swore, the throbbing in his head not quite so bad as the craving settled with a malevolent hiss inside him. Barely sated, but clearheaded at least. "No matter what I must do."

This was no longer just about Balfour.

This was about protecting those who'd come to rescue him.

* * *

The next morningdawned bright and clear. The snow had stopped during the night, leaving little piles of dust in the corners of the street.

"We have a lead on where they might have taken Ava," Gemma said, her cheeks pale as she strode into the dining room. "Luther just got word."

"Then why do you look like your grandmother just died?" Charlie asked, lifting his head from the cup of tea Herbert had forced upon him.

He hadn't slept and his eyes were grainy.

But someone had to sit with Kincaid.

"Because there's going to be a presentation tonight at the House of Swans." Gemma took a deep breath. "They're going to auction a young, blonde Englishwoman to the highest bidder."

Kincaid's face grew pale. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means precisely what you'd expect it to mean," Gemma replied. "There are very few rules here, but so far, we've only been shown the gilded lights of high society. The Blood have gone out of their way to present us—and several other foreign powers—with their exquisite, restrained manners.

"The House of Swans is where the darker aspects of Blood society come out to play. There are no rules there. The young women and men they offer for entertainment are called swans, and you can bid on their services for the night. If the blood play gets out of hand and your swan suffers for it, then you pay extra to have them buried."

Gemma eased a hand over Kincaid's. "We will get her out, Kincaid. I promise. No matter what we must do."

Chapter 20

"Deep breath," Lark warned as their carriage disbursed them outside a small, dark manor.

Every single shutter was closed, and the street's gaslights were muted. Hints of sound came from within the manor.

Laughter.

Music.

A shocked cry.

"You're not the one wearing the goddamned collar," Charlie growled as she hooked the golden leash to her wrist. His white breeches clung to every single inch of his ass, and he kept trying to pull the hem of his shirt out enough to shield his codpiece from view. The diaphanous, billowing shirt was unbuttoned to his navel and offered very little protection against the chill breeze.

According to Byrnes, he looked like he'd come straight from the ballet stage, and if the situation hadn't been so dire, he was fairly certain the bastard would have snickered.