Page 160 of To Catch A Rogue
"No, but I do." A colder, harder voice rang through the room.
Another stir of whispers.
Lark's heart began to flutter.Nikolai?
"I offer challenge too." Her brother suddenly appeared between Charlie and Blade, lethal in black.
Nikolai was always still, but now he seemed like a statue, his eyes boring right through Sergey. Several of his lieutenants appeared out of the crowd, eyes watchful. Chiyoh's fingers curled around the hilt of her sword as if she longed to unsheathe it.
"You dare show your face here?" Sergey hissed.
"You have a sword. We each have a knife." Nikolai's smile seemed a dangerous thing. "Are you afraid to face both of us? Or would you prefer to face a young woman alone?"
"You're the Crippled King," Sergey spat, and suddenly Lark knew who'd coined that moniker. "You have no right to interfere."
"Nyet." Nikolai tore his coat open, and Chiyoh began to tug the buttons of his shirt undone. She slid it from his shoulders as Nikolai rolled them, lean slabs of muscle gleaming beneath the chandelier. Tattoos darkened his chest, dark swirls that spun into racing wolves. "My name is Nikolai Konstantinovich Grigoriev. I have all the right to challenge you."
A little thrill of hope went through her as the crowd gasped again when they saw his back.
"Another Grigoriev," someone whispered.
A woman sniggered. "It seems Sergey was somewhat lax with his knife."
Nikolai had been distant with her from the start, conceding to help them only under sufferance. She had never expected him to stand at her side.
Their eyes met.
"You touch my sister," Nikolai said, in a chilling voice, as he nodded at her. "And you will face me too."
"Then you will both die," Sergey snarled. "Clear the floor."
Lark swallowed hard. Emotion choked her. For all that she'd lost, she couldn't help feeling as if wasn't alone right now. She could practically feel the ghosts of her murdered family standing behind them, but it was the brother at her side that undid her.
"Thank you," she whispered to Nikolai, as she moved to cover his weak side, crouching low. It wasn't the first time she'd fought back to back with another, but never with this man.
"Don't worry, little bird," Nikolai purred, "you won't have to protect me. That is my job now."
Sergey swung, the flash of his sword darting like a flicker of lightning. It came at her, as if he'd picked her as the weak one.
She tried to divert it, but Sergey was stronger than Lady Kirinov, and his sword had four inches on Kirinov's. A flare of pain shot through her arm as the tip of his sword slashed her sleeve. All of a sudden she could smell blood, and the craving slithered through her veins.
Then Nikolai was there, a threat to Sergey's flank.
They timed it poorly, unused to working in tandem, and she bit back a curse, wishing it was Charlie at her side—but in this court, he had no voice.
The pommel of the sword slammed against her cheek as Sergey spun, driving his boot into Nikolai's chest. Lark's ears rang as she staggered back, and she saw Nikolai's knee go out from under him as he fought to gain his balance.
"Pathetic," Sergey sneered, spitting on the ground at her feet. "You will die as gracelessly as your father did."
Her eyes narrowed. "As I recall, you preferred to get others to attack my father, rather than facing him yourself. Who's pathetic now, Sergey? Were you afraid to face him? Did you think it easier to murder children and women? He always was your superior."
That earned her an aggressive lunge.
Lark was driven back, barely disengaging each blow. "Kolya!"
"Coming."
Lark tapped the tip of the sword out of the way, its edge shearing through the loose flap of her shirt. Too close. Far too close. But it gave Nikolai time to drive his knife across Sergey's ribs. Sergey slammed an elbow into his nose, and Lark spun beneath the slash of the blade, her own dagger slicing through his thigh.
