Page 107 of You Only Love Twice
It was a simple equation. Gemma was clearly missing. Both he and Malloryn wanted her back. Ghost wanted her dead.
The question he'd been asking himself for days finally had an answer.
Just whose side will you choose?
Gemma's.
Not Ghost's. Not Malloryn's. Only Gemma had the ability to sway him.
And he needed Malloryn alive if he was going to be able to find her.
Obsidian raised his pistol in the air, uncocking it. Staring into the duke's eyes, he holstered it within his coat and held his hands up in surrender. "Where is she? What's happened?"
Malloryn eased the dartgun lower, but he didn't take his finger off the trigger. "If you so much as breathe in my direction, I will shoot you. You know what this does?"
"I know what it does."
"Good." Malloryn tossed the note aside, and it fluttered to the floor like a dying moth. "There was an attack upon the baroness and Gemma. When Isabella came to in an alley, Gemma was missing. She's still missing. We don't where she is, though I've sent Byrnes and Ingrid out with the tracking device. You were my prime suspect until I found your note."
Obsidian's head turned toward the noise in the study. "You knew I'd come."
And he'd staged an argument so Obsidian would think the way was clear.
A dangerous man.
He'd never been so careless before, but the thought of Gemma in danger obliterated his natural caution.
"I was hoping you would have her," Malloryn said, then lowered the dartgun completely.
"How much blood was there?"
"Minimal. They struck Gemma over the head, according to the baroness, then turned the bludgeon upon her."
"When?"
"Four hours ago. I just received the message."
"What did the assailant look like?"
Malloryn arched a brow. "Look in the mirror. He was one of yours. Where would he take her? What would he intend to do with her?"
Obsidian froze.
It could be dozens of places. Balfour had operations all over London; little terrorist cells quietly at work, unaware of each other.
But if it had been Ghost or one of the acolytes who'd taken her, she'd have been dead in the street.
Silas.
His head turned unerringly toward his brother's preferred stalking grounds. He had to move quickly. Balfour had insisted upon putting a bullet through her heart, and then staging her for Malloryn to find, but Silas might not do the job himself.
Ghost wanted that pleasure, which meant he had a window of several hours if Ghost was to be the one who pulled the trigger.
She might already be dead.
No.
Obsidian took a step back, toward the window, unwilling to waste anymore time.
