Page 45 of You Only Love Twice
She hadn't known how to answer. All her training prepared her for interrogation, but her mind refused to work with death staring her in the face."I don't know. I didn't.... I just...."
And Malloryn lowered the pistol as Gemma started shaking violently.
He checked the pistol, examined the bullets."You're a Falcon. Or training to be one."
She'd nodded.
"How old are you?"
"Nearly sixteen."
And then Malloryn knelt in front of her, with the pistol held in a slack grip between his thighs."You do realize you were never expected to succeed? They meant for you to die here. They wanted me to kill you."
"How do you know that?"
He'd given her a thin smile."Because I know things. And I know who sent you."
"That seems convenient for Malloryn," Obsidian said. "An ex-Falcon who served Balfour and might know some of his secrets…. Of course he granted you mercy."
"Hesavedmy life," Gemma declared, suddenly infuriated. "Malloryn was the first person who ever looked at me and saw something worth fighting for—and no, I am not so foolish as to think it a sense of sudden altruism. He gained something from our bargain too, but he gave me a chance, Obsidian. That’s more than I can say for Lord Balfour and his Falcons."
"You bear a grudge against Balfour?"
“I hated him. The night Malloryn killed him was the best night of my life," Gemma replied. "He deserves to rot for what he did to me."
And to all those poor children who were buried in unmarked graves at Falconridge.
Obsidian swished the rag over the knife in his hands, suddenly giving it his full attention. "And then Malloryn sent you to Russia. It must have irritated him greatly to see one of his most loyal agents betray him with the enemy."
Gemma pursed her lips. "He was angry, yes."
Disappointed, mostly.
And it was the disappointment that stung.
"Tell me about Russia. Tell me about us. From your perspective."
"So you can mock me?"
"So I can ascertain the truth of what happened. You were right. Something about Russia doesn’t quite add up, but I’m not certain who is lying to me. You. Or Ghost."
He believed her?
Gemma looked at him sharply, but there was no sign of any inner turmoil on his face. He simply continued oiling the blade he was polishing.
Perhaps she wasn’t the only one hiding behind a mask.
"Sergey was my mark," Gemma’s voice softened a little as she saw it all. "We were there ostensibly to secure the alliance between the Tzarina and the prince consort, though the treaty was Lord Balfour's idea and hence, Malloryn wished to prevent it. Malloryn instructed me to get close to Sergey to discover which of the empress's granddaughters she was favoring as next in line for the throne. There was talk Catherine had begun to enter the Fade, though she'd been in seclusion for so long, nobody truly knew.
"As Master of the Imperial Ravens, and the new Prince of Tsaritsyn, Sergey had her favor, and was said to be vying for the hand of one of her granddaughters. If anyone knew Catherine’s preference, it would be him. He had one weakness. He liked women and frequently flitted from mistress to mistress. I'd done my research, and planned everything, down to our very meeting. Sergey preferred curvaceous blondes who rode well, hunted, and gave him a challenge. I fit the brief. It should have been easy."
"But?"
"But." Her gaze lifted to his, and even after all this time she couldn't stop herself from taking a swift, shallow intake of breath. "The one thing I hadn't accounted for was you."
* * *
Then....
