Page 13 of To Catch A Rogue

"Blade." Suddenly she couldn't breathe. "I can't let him go alone. Charlie doesn't have the faintest clue what he's walking into. The Crimson Court will eat him alive."

"Thought you still weren't really talkin' to 'im?"

She flushed. They'd had words about that over the years. "Doesn't mean I want to see him hurt."

Or worse.

Dead.

"Do you think you could talk him out of it?" she asked.

Blade scrubbed at his stubble. "Boy's more stubborn'n you are when 'e wants to be." His brow twitched. "Don't know where 'e gets that from."

Her temper flared. No talk of locking Charlie up and throwing away the key. "How come he gets a choice?"

"Because 'e ain't likely to get distracted with thoughts of revenge."

Lark froze.

She'd never truly worked out how much Blade knew of her past circumstances. There'd been hints, here and there, but he'd never brought it up.

How much had Tin Man told him?

"I just want to protect Charlie," she finally said. "I'm not looking for trouble. Hell, Blade. I know how dangerous the Blood are. I can't afford to provoke trouble. If I had my way, I'd never set foot there again, but I don't. If neither of us can convince him not to take this damned job, then someone has to stop him from getting his throat slit. I won't even have time to think of revenge."

"Promise me?" His voice held an edge to it.

"I promise."

"Swear on Tin Man's grave?"

Lark looked away furiously. "I swear."

"Fine. I'll allow it."

Lark's head shot up. "You will?"

"On one condition...."

Chapter 3

Gulls wheeled through the skies as Charlie strode up the gangplank and onto the deck of theValkyriewith his bag slung over his shoulder. The airship hummed with the vibration of the boilers warming up, and the vast gondola overhead shaded the deck. Ostensibly the airship looked like a passenger cutter—small and built for speed—but if he leaned over the edge, he could see that the cargo hold was deeper than it ought to be.

Smuggler?

Certainly not quite as benign as she pretended to be.

A pair of men argued on the fore observation deck. He recognized the taller man immediately. Lean and whip-sharp, Leo Barrons clapped the man on the shoulder, they both laughed, and then Leo turned and looked at him.

Sometimes it felt like looking into a mirror when he saw Barrons. An older, thinner, slightly more ruthless mirror.

In fact, they looked so much alike that one glimpse of Charlie had nearly brought about Leo's downfall in society. Leo might claim to be the Duke of Caine's heir, but he was very clearly sired by Charlie's own father, Sir Artemus Todd.

"Charlie," Leo said, striding toward him with a dangerous smile. A ruby earring winked in his ear, and he was clothed in strict black. Despite his elegant, aristocratic manners, he looked like the sort of man who ought to be boarding other airships with a cutlass in hand. "Are you ready for Russia?"

It had been Gemma's idea to involve Leo in the mission.

Not only was he Malloryn's closest—possibly only—friend, but he was also the excuse they needed to arrive safely in Russia. As a member of the Council of Dukes who advised the queen, this wasn't Leo's first diplomatic mission to the Crimson Court.