Page 142 of You Only Love Twice
"It seems an old enemy isn't quite as dead as I'd hoped. And he's behind everything that's happened with thedhampirand the vampires and the SOG, and now this assassination attempt...."
"Who?" The queen's voice tightened.
Malloryn pressed Blade's waistcoat against the worst wound in his side. "Before she died, Baroness Schröder was taunting me with the fact this is all a game designed to woundme. She used... specific statements only one man has ever used. She said our enemy wanted me to see London burn. My queen killed. My friends murdered. And each and every thing I love destroyed."
"And I thoughtIpissed people off, beggin' your pardon, Madam Queen," Blade said. "Ain't anybody ever wanted to burn the entire bloody city to the ground because ofme."
"It's a gift Malloryn has," Leo drawled. "Along with the ability to keep everyone in suspense. And technically, the Duke of Moriochwastrying to burn you out of Whitechapel."
"It's not deliberate," Malloryn shot back. "I have no proof my old enemy is even still alive."
He didn't need proof. The truth burned within him, leaving him in absolutely no doubt.
"Who?" the queen whispered.
"Lord Balfour," he said, and watched the queen reel back as if slapped. "And while I understand your trepidation, I need Gemma, Your Highness. For if we're truly facing Balfour, then this changeseverything."
Chapter 26
Obsidian took her to the tower ruins overlooking Malloryn's secret townhouse. It was their little world, safe from prying eyes and whispers. Safe from the impact of Lord Balfour, and Malloryn, and every bloody thing striving to keep them apart. They could pretend here and lose themselves in each other without giving a damn about the outside world.
Nobody would be looking for them here, and with the Ivory Tower still in turmoil she'd be safe until they could discover what had happened.
Moving around the room with a small taper, Obsidian lit each candle and then latched the windows against the night and prying eyes before turning back to Gemma.
She stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around her middle and her hair hanging in tangled snarls around her heart-shaped face. Strips of skirt clung to her legs, and for once she didn't seem to give a damn about her bloody Madame Lefoux's, or whoever designed it.
No, her eyes flamed hot with intent when she looked at him. Clearly determined to forget her troubles, no matter what she had to do.
Obsidian slowly blew out the flame on the end of the taper, and smoke curled from its tip. He couldn't take his eyes off her.
She needed him.
It was that simple.
He'd never had anything to fight for before. Weapons simply did as they were told, and with his fractured memories he'd never had a reason to rebel. He couldn't even bloody recall if he'd ever tried.
But the second she'd walked back into his life, he'd seen a chance for him to break free—to be seen as something more than a tool. Nobody had ever risked their life for his, until she threw herself between him and Malloryn.
Nobody had ever cared.
But now it was his turn to look after her.
"There's a storm brewing in your eyes," Obsidian murmured, as he stalked around her in narrowing circles.
He could see the edge in her eyes. Neither of them were made for soft words or gentle touches.
Or heartfelt confessions.
He was willing to give her whatever she needed.
"There's a storm brewing in my heart." Gemma turned her head to follow his movements. "But I'm afraid if I let it out, I'll destroy the world. Ever since we left the tower, all I can think about is how to kill Balfour. I've managed to map out at least four ways to get to him, but they all involve casualties. And there's a part of me that doesn't care. I feel like I should care. Iwantto care. But all I feel is empty. No. All I feel is fury. Have you ever been frightened of what exists inside you?"
Circling her slowly, he reached out to let his fingertips trail across the muscular flex of her spine. Gemma shivered.
"Yes," he whispered.
He turned her to face him, resting his fingertips on her lips.
