Page 21 of To Catch A Rogue

He stared at her nose, as if he saw something else and Gemma realized this wasn't going to end in bed. "We're about to arrive in St. Petersburg."

"We've taken every precaution we can. Our fate is up in the air, but we're not the only ones who will have to watch our backs. Balfour isn't invincible. We can kill him and rescue Malloryn. He has just as much to lose as we do."

"And Sergey? Nowhere in our plans, have we accounted for him."

The words were soft.

Sergey.

They hadn't mentioned him, as if, in not breathing his name they somehow deprived him of life.

Gemma searched his face. "He's one of Balfour's allies. We both knew we'd encounter him the second we set out for Russia."

Obsidian pushed to his knees, resting his knuckles on his thighs. "He's more than Balfour's ally."

Five years ago, when Obsidian had been brainwashed, Balfour had set him to guard Sergey Grigoriev, the Prince of Tsaritsyn. It was how they'd met. Malloryn wanted her to get close to Sergey to discover what he knew of the tsarina's plans, and Obsidian had thwarted her at every turn.

He'd recognize both their faces, and know the aliases they'd both operated under.

But that wasn't what Obsidian was talking about now.

"You said you didn't want to speak about it," she said softly, rising up onto her elbows.

Clasping both hands behind his head, he stared down at her. "I needed time to think. Every time I look at that fucking file about me that Charlie stole from thedhampirheadquarters, I find hints of the man I used to be. I keep looking at that family tree someone slipped inside the file. I have elements of the bloody Grigoriev coat of arms tattooed on my arm, though I didn't know until I saw it in the file. I keep looking at that name. Dmitri Grigoriev, the eldest son and heir of the former Prince of Tsaritsyn. Is that who I am? I don't know. Balfour has a habit of lying, but why would he keep that family tree in my file?"

Gemma reached out, fingertips brushing against his chest. Not out of enjoyment, but merely to touch him. "If you were a member of the Blood, then your back would bear themarque du sangof the Grigoriev family."

There was nothing there; no tattoo except for the ones on his left arm.

Only scars.

Obsidian bowed his head, and placed both hands on the floor on either side of her hips. "I know."

The loss of memories bothered him more than he'd admit, but she knew he longed for a sense of identity even more than the memories.

"If I am a Grigoriev, then Sergey Grigoriev is my cousin. And it's possible he murdered my family," Obsidian murmured, trailing his fingertips through her hair. "There were rumors about his involvement, swiftly hushed whenever he entered the room."

Gemma slid her hand behind his nape, drawing his mouth down for a sweet kiss. "What are you going to do about it?" she whispered against his mouth.

"I don't know." He rested on his knuckles again. "Malloryn has to remain the priority."

For her. He barely knew the duke.

"But if there's a chance.... I would like to do a little investigating. That family tree was in my file for a reason."

"Balfour's the only one who might know that reason."

He nodded. "I know."

And Gemma bit her lip, because how could she gainsay him when this was just as important to him as rescuing Malloryn was to her?

Instead she kissed him again, this time sliding her hands through his hair. And Obsidian answered in kind, his body lowering atop hers, as his hand slid up her thigh, caressing the curve of her bottom.

"Later," he whispered against her mouth. "Deal with it later."

* * *

"So what'syour area of expertise?"