Charlie glanced at Lark, and found her looking studiously at him too, as if to give them some modicum of privacy. Somehow his fingers found hers on the carriage seat and he laced them together.
"How do I tell Kincaid?" Gemma asked in a small voice. "I promised him I would bring her home. It was the only reason he let us go without him. I told him he was a liability in his current emotional state."
"He will understand," Obsidian murmured. "He knows you love her too."
The carriage hit a bump and began to slow.
"But what if—"
"No what-ifs," Obsidian interrupted. "We deal with facts. Not possibilities. We have to presume both Ava and Malloryn are alive. Balfour likes to play games. He's not going to kill either of them unless he can force us to watch."
Another faint bump as the carriage rolled over something. Charlie twitched the curtains aside as Obsidian continued soothing Gemma.
"What is it?" Lark asked, attuned to him as always, and the others fell silent.
"Is there any reason we just came to a halt in the middle of a bridge?"
Instantly, the remorse slid off Gemma's face and she drew her pistol. He had no idea where she’d managed to hide it beneath that dress. "Ihopethat some fool thought he'd attempt to impede me further tonight. And I really,reallyhope it’s Balfour."
She threw the carriage door open and rolled out before anyone could say anything.
"Shit." Obsidian went after her, drawing his own weapon.
Pistol fire started barking.
"Is she insane?" Lark yelled, peeking out the open carriage door.
"Remind me to tell you about the time Gemma nearly cut down half the Coldrush Guards that protect the queen. Trust me. I feel sorry for whoever just attacked the carriage. She's been under a significant amount of stress lately. "
A man appeared in the doorway, yanking at Lark's arm.
Lark grabbed the carriage strap and kicked him fair in the chest. She swung through the door and vanished.
Charlie scrambled out, drawing the pair of cutthroat razors Lark had carried for him. Two figures swept toward him, and he ducked beneath a pistol and flicked his wrist, just so. Blood sprayed through the air in a fine arc, the pistol firing into the air as the first man went down gasping.
A punch slammed into his ribs. Charlie flung an elbow, earning a satisfactory crunch, and danced back to give himself room to fight.
The stranger wore a silver wolf's mask.
"You lot just don't know when to give up," he growled.
He could understand Gemma's frustration. Charlie flicked the razor closed, and followed through with a massive haymaker. His knuckles hit the mask and the thin metal crumpled, the stranger screaming as he hit the ground. Lifting his foot, he stomped down, crushing the bastard's throat.
It felt good to unleash some of his anger.
"Try not to kill them all! We need one of them alive!" Obsidian yelled, and Charlie was about to yell back when he realized Gemma was carving a swathe through at least half a dozen men.
Obsidian wasn't talking to him.
She'd clearly run out of bullets, and was using the pistol as a weapon. Stabbing a man in the eyes with her fingers, she moved on as he went down screaming.
"I want to be Gemma when I grow up." Lark grinned at him, her dark eyes alight with a bloodthirsty gleam.
One Gemma wasmorethan enough. "I like you just the way you are."
Lark kicked a man in the face and flipped backwards, landing in a squat. "Oh, Charlie. You are such a—"
"Don'tsay it."