Page 72 of Dukes Are Forever
"I'm going to kill him." Malloryn said it without an ounce of heat in his voice, and yet there was a flash of something in his eyes. Something Adele couldn't quite decipher.
But then, sometimes it seemed understanding her husband would require an entire university degree.
And even then, she thought she might not know the full extent of him.
She wanted to.
"No, you're not," Miss Townsend chided. "He's the best lead we've got. Once he's led us back to Balfour, you can beat the claret out of him, or whatever you damned well like, but not before."
Again that hard gaze pinned Adele. "Did he saywhyhe wanted you to attend his private soiree?"
"Use your imagination," she replied tartly. "I'm fairly certain it's not to dance with me."
There.
There was that hint ofsomethingmoving through the mosaic of grays and greens that made up his pupils. A hint of violence barely restrained. A sliver of the darkness of the craving within him.
The predator.
A whisper of both trepidation and excitement thrilled through her. For a second she thought she could almost put a name to the emotion she saw, but then Malloryn shut down before her eyes, and it was gone again.
Cool. Rational. Implacable.
Malloryn, once more.
"He indicated that if I wanted to rid myself of you, then there were certain powerful people who might be able to help me. As long as I gave them something in return. Maybe I'll be able to recognize some of the others in attendance."
Plucking the invitation from Adele's fingers, he examined it. "Angel's Fall. You do realize this is a gaming club partly owned by Lord Corvus?"
She'd been ready for it. "You don't say?"
Malloryn rubbed his thumb along the invitation, as if chasing after the last hints of her body heat. "This is not the sort of place you should attend. Angel's Fall is dangerous at the best of times. Fortunes are won and lost in the gaming rooms; blue bloods beat each other bloody in the underground fighting pits; and there's a private auction room for gentleman of certain tastes to buy young ladiesintacto."
Intacto...?
"Virgins," Malloryn added, reading her expression. "Whether willing or not, they're all virgins."
"That's horrific."
"Yes. Unfortunately, the club is heavily policed by several rogue blue bloods, and bidders must go through a ruthless process to prove they're not the sort to squeal to the authorities. The queen has sent Nighthawks in several times, but the auctions vanish as if they never existed. All I have is rumor and innuendo, and it's not enough to convict any of the lords involved. I've tried to get a man on the inside twice, but they've both disappeared."
She had the sickening urge to track Lord Corvus down and punch him in his perfect white teeth. "I shouldn't be surprised."
"No?"
"With Corvus involved, I'd expect only the most vile of atrocities."
Malloryn's gaze locked on her. "Any reason you have a seeming vendetta against the man?"
"Nothing you ought to know."
He'd made it clear he was interested in tracking down the blue blood nobleman who'd assaulted her the night she'd forced him into a proposal, but Corvus wasn't the sort of man one crossed.
Not even Malloryn?
For a second she was tempted to tell him the truth. But he was dealing with enough mischief as it was. And Devoncourt, Balfour, even her father, were more important than handing a set down to the vile miscreant who'd stalked her through the Echelon.
She had to tell herself that twice.
