Page 84 of To Catch A Rogue
She fell silent, staring right through him as if she could see something else in that moment.
Charlie edged closer, slipping his hand into hers.
"They killed Katya first," she whispered. "And then Evgeni. I willneverforget the sound my mother made. They wanted to save her for last. They wanted her to know all her children were dead, but they couldn't findme. And as my mother begged for them to kill her too, I saw the man who'd slit their throats take off his mask.
"It was Sergey. He was my cousin. My parents took him in when his own died, and raised him beneath our roof. They gave himeverythingand he betrayed them. It took me months to realize he’d arranged for the deaths of my father and my eldest brothers, Dmitri and Nikolai, on the same night. They were attending the opera with Papa when their carriage was attacked. I kept hoping word of them would come.... That it would be safe to return, but when the news reached us...."
She buried her face in her hands, and Charlie wrapped his arms around her, dragging her face against his chest. A blue blood couldn't shed tears, but he felt the angry sobs tear through her.
"Oh, Lark." He rocked her in his arms, clenching his eyes shut against her pain. "You're safe now. You're with me."
She looked up, rubbing at her reddened eyes. "I hate him. I hate him so much."
"How did you escape?"
"They'd set the palace on fire." Lark took a deep breath. "I had to run. I was crying so badly I could barely see, but I was so angry. I swore then that I would live, and I would kill Sergey one day. I escaped through the maze we used yesterday, and watched the palace burn as Sergey and his men rode away.
"That was where Yuri found me," she admitted. "He could see the tattoo on my back and knew I was of the Blood. I didn't realize he and my mother had known each other as children. I think he loved her, and he'd come for her the second he saw the flames licking at the manor. But it was too late for Mama.
"Yuri broke into the palace and carried her out. He tried to see to her wounds, but... she knew she was dying. She wasn't of the Blood. With her last words she begged him to get me out of the country. Away from Sergey, away from the uprising, away from the Brotherhood and the flames. Sergey would have killed me if he found me."
"So Yuri did," Lark whispered, staring through the wall. "He took me north through Finland. I was so frightened—of him, of everything that had happened—and I couldn't understand him. I couldn't understand what he was trying to say to me with his hands.
"We knew Sergey was hunting for us. Yuri couldn't speak, and his tongue.... If anyone was looking for us, they'd be able to track us the second they asked after a man with no tongue, so I had to take charge. I said he was my uncle, not right in the head, and Yuri played the part. I spoke a little French, a little English, very little German. Enough to get by.
"We stayed a couple of months in Denmark. Sometimes I'd cry," she whispered. "Yuri was so kind to me. He would pat my shoulder and rub my back, and he would try to make me understand what he was trying to say. That was how we came up with the letters." Lark took a deep breath. "I made a board of letters, and Yuri taught me what his silent language meant."
Holy blood and ashes.Charlie slowly lay back on his pillows, raking both hands through his hair.
Lark was.... No. Irina was.... She was a Grigoriev. A princess of the Blood. He simply couldn't put the two together.
"I liked Copenhagen. There was a little girl next door I played with. I almost forgot what it meant to look over my shoulder. We were there for almost three months before I caught a glimpse of one of Sergey'sChernyye Volkiin the streets near our house. We had to leave in the middle of the night but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere they couldn't track us. Except for one place.
"We were in France for the rest of the year. It was staunchly humanist, so no blue blood would dare enter the country for fear of being executed. I cut all my hair off and became Jean, but we couldn't relax. And when the French started talking about war with Russia, we knew it was no longer safe for us.
"We were afraid they were still hunting for us, so when we landed in London we couldn't let ourselves be seen. We were hiding out in the East End. I'd taken to stealing to try and feed us, and Tin Man was searching for honest work, but nobody wanted to employ a mute.
"And that was where Blade caught us. We were in Whitechapel territory, and a band of slashers had backed us into a corner. Yuri was trying to protect me and they were taking their time, darting in and cutting him. And Blade saved us." Lark closed her eyes, as if she could see another place, another time. "He took us home to the Warren. It was the first time I'd been warm in months, and he and Tin Man talked well into the night, using me as their interpreter. By the time the sun rose, they'd struck a deal. Tin Man would work for Blade, and in return, we had protection."
All this time, and Blade had known?
He hadn't said a word?
Charlie wanted to punch something. How the hell had Blade let her come back here, knowing who she was? Knowing how dangerous this was?
"I ain't 'ere for you."
He hadn't been able to understand how Blade could leave his wife and daughter to journey to Russia, but it all made sense now. Russia was not only dangerous, but Lark's history was a maelstrom of terror.
Blade had made a promise to Tin Man, and when he'd died in Blade's service, he'd taken over Tin Man's mantle as Lark's protector.
"Whitechapel was the only place we could vanish," she said, resting her cheek against his chest. "Nobody dared come into the rookeries. So we vanished there, and I became Lark, and I didn't dare ever say my real name or where I came from. I stayed a boy, and Blade called Yuri 'Tin Man' and the name stuck. Neither of us ever breathed a word of what we'd fled from."
"Not even to Blade?"
Her lips pressed together. "I think Yuri eventually told him some of it. You don't understand though.... One wrong word spoken in the wrong place. A single whisper reaching the right ears.... Perhaps they gave up hunting for us, but perhaps they did not. They found us in Copenhagen, after all."
"Then why the hell did you come back?" he whispered hoarsely. Jesus. How could she even stand to be in this country? How could she dare? "Damn it, Lark. How will you be able to look Sergey in the eye? What if he recognizes you? Gemma said we're bound to encounter him at one of Balfour's little soirees."
