Page 76 of To Catch A Rogue

"And if you refuse?" Kincaid asked.

"Then I daresay the threat comes next. Or Malloryn's finger in a box. If he wants something done, then he doesn't stop until it is done."

"Like I said, it's a trap," Gemma snapped. A little tendril of hair had worked itself down over her forehead, she who was always perfectly presented.

Obsidian captured her wrist and drew her against him. It wasn't in his nature to display his affection so publicly, but he hated seeing her like this. Clasping her shoulders, he stared down into her eyes, willing her to take comfort from him. "Then we just need to work out how to spring it."

A furrow grew between her brows. She'd barely slept in weeks, and it was starting to show.

But at least her eyes had lost that panicky edge. "I don't want to lose you."

Againechoed unspoken. They'd lost five years to Balfour's manipulative games.

"You won't,muy lyubov."

He drew her toward the sofa and settled there, letting her rest against his side. "If Balfour wants to set a trap, then perhaps we can twist it to our advantage. It's dangerous—"

"When is it not?" Kincaid snorted.

"We thrive on danger," Charlie added, with a flash of white teeth.

"There is also the fact that Balfour may have slipped up a little, when he was so eager to assure me I couldn't kill him without Malloryn suffering for it."

"The red smoke," Lark murmured, still flipping idly through the pages of the book she was holding. "Luther gave us a list of all the holdings Balfour—and his wife—own. There are far too many to search within six days, but perhaps we don't have to. Wherever they're keeping Malloryn, it's close enough to see a smoke signal."

"We just have to figure out the outside radius of that distance. Any of his holdings within it are prime targets," Obsidian added.

"And we know Jelena is the one watching over him," Charlie said.

"It could be miles of distance," Byrnes said, ever the voice of grim reality. "The countryside is so damned flat you can see forever on a clear day, and red smoke is rather obvious."

"No." Ingrid shook her head. "It has to be within a reasonable distance. You're not accounting for inclement weather, or nighttime. Both would cut visibility, and Balfour needs his signal to be spotted relatively quickly. He doesn't strike me as a man who'd leave much to chance."

He’s not.

"It’s a start," Gemma said.

"So we start figurin' out the radius, while Obsidian tracks down our errant Prince of Tsaritsyn. Then we just need to make it look like an accident," Kincaid mused. "If it looks like an accident, then how is Balfour going to connect this Sergey's death to us?"

"Are we... talking about murdering an innocent man?" Charlie looked nervous. "Trust me," Obsidian muttered. "Sergey's not innocent."

"You could use Black Vein," Ava suggested, looking horrified at herself for even suggesting a means to murder a person.

They'd discovered the Black Vein serum several months ago, when a string of unusual deaths began popping up among blue bloods. Derived from the caterpillar mushroom that grew in Tibet, it had an adverse reaction upon a blue blood and was the only thing—apart from decapitation or removing their hearts—that could effectively kill one.

"Using Black Vein would draw attention," Gemma murmured. "It's quite a... noticeable death."

All the veins in a blue blood's body turned dark, giving them a ghoulish appearance.

"Not to mention the fact it would make certain people nervous," he pointed out. "If we use Black Vein, then Balfour will have no compunctions about returning the favor. We're all vulnerable to it."

Except for Ava, whose clockwork heart saved her from death by the poison.

"I've been working on that," Ava said, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. "While I'm not certain I have an antidote to Black Vein, my initial trials into a herbal infusion appear to be meeting some success. Black Vein wreaks damage on blood vessels and capillaries, and is an anti-coagulant, so I've been trialing a fusion of alfalfa, yarrow, goldenrod and...."

She broke off when she saw their faces. Left to her own devices, the pretty crime scene investigator could ramble forhoursabout herbal concoctions and scientific theories about the craving virus. Getting her to focus was an ongoing task, and she knew it.

"Does it work?" Gemma asked.