Page 8 of To Catch A Rogue

Lark rubbed her chest, where the scar of the bullet still remained. A half-inch to the left and she wouldn't be here today. "I don't blame you for what happened. Tin Man and I made the choice to follow you."

"And he died, because of me," Charlie said grimly.

In her dreams she could still see that moment when she'd been lying on the cobblestones, gasping for air and choking on blood. And the man who'd shot her—one of the prince consort's Falcons—had turned his pistol on Charlie.

It had been a moment that lasted a lifetime. The scream died on her lips as Tin Man came out of nowhere, crashing into Charlie just as the pistol fired.

And then her world went black as her blood loss overwhelmed her.

When she woke, the only man she'd ever known as a father was gone. Dead. And Charlie had infected her with the craving virus, which was the only thing that had saved her life. She hadn't even been able to say goodbye.

"Lark, I'm so, so sor—"

"I don't blame you," she said sharply. "But I don't want to talk about it. It's in the past. And if you're going to waste my time then I'm leaving." She pressed her fingers to her temples, the world flashing into shadows around her as the craving rose, waking at the surge of emotion. Being in his company these days always woke the darker half of the predator within her. No, she didn't blame him for Tin Man's death, but a part of her couldn't quite forgive him for abandoning her in the wake of her transformation. It was easier to hold him at bay now than to let him know how much that had hurt her. "You said you had important business to discuss. Well, discuss it."

Charlie opened his mouth, but paused as the server appeared.

"Evening, sirs." The woman smiled at Charlie, evidently mistaking Lark for a gent in her breeches, cravat, and waistcoat. "May I take your orders?"

Charlie ordered coffee, and then tipped his head toward her. "And hot chocolate for the lady."

Thought he knew her, did he? Lark smiled at the server. "No chocolate, thanks. I'll have tea. Black tea."

Charlie leaned back in the booth as the woman left. "You always ordered chocolate."

"It seems I've lost the taste for it since my transformation." Now all she craved was blood.

Charlie frowned. "Can we just talk for a moment?"

"Fine, then. Talk. How did you find me?"

"Blade told me which crew you were working with. I bribed Mick into giving me the details of the place you were casing."

"How the hell did Mick know?"

"Foley, I presume."

Bloody Foley and his careless mouth. "And what do you want?"

"Maybe I missed you," he pointed out.

She knew exactly how that felt.

She'd been sixteen—pretending to be fourteen—when Charlie burst into her life. At first, the idea of having another person her age in the house made her intensely curious, but Charlie had been newly infected with the craving and struggling to control it. Blade had locked him in his room to make sure he couldn't attack anyone else in the house if he lost control.

It had been weeks before her curiosity overwhelmed her natural caution.

She'd snuck into his room and found a boy sleeping. Pulling back the covers revealed a tangle of knotted blond curls, pale skin, silky dark lashes, and the face of an absolute angel.

Most of the boys she knew were dirty and smelled and thought her a male, so she'd not had to contend with their attentions. She'd never wanted them either.

But the second she'd laid eyes on Charlie, there'd been a flush of something she'd never felt before.

And when his lashes had fluttered, revealing he'd been awake all along, she'd lost herself in the crystalline blue of his eyes.

It had been horrible.

She'd actually flushed with heat, certain she was blushing.