Page 25 of Heart of Iron
“I’ll want that in writin’,” Will said.“And witnessed.”
A slight narrowing of the prince consort’s eyes.“Agreed.”
“That ain’t all.I want the pits outlawed.All verwulfen that are caged or slaved are to be set free and given equal rights as humans…or blue bloods.”
Another nod.
“And the price on me head is lifted, you understand?I come and go as I please.”No more skulking about the city, running the rooftops at night.Free to go where he wanted.Free to walk the city streets without people trying to kill him—or cage him.
The prince consort waved a negligent hand.“Would you like that in writing too?”
Will bared his teeth.“Absolutely.”
***
“That were well done,” Blade said, hauling himself up into the steam carriage with a grunt.
Will nodded past him to Rip, who wore a coachman’s livery and heavy cloak.Beneath that cloak lurked an armory of weapons, as well as the heavy, mech arm that would damn him in this company.At the back of the carriage hovered Tin Man, another of Blade’s men.Light gleamed off the metal cap that was meshed to his scalp.He couldn’t speak, but he was damn good with a blade.
“Take ’im home,” Will said, clapping Tin Man on the shoulder.“Make sure he gets there.”
Blade poked his head through the window.“Where’re you goin’?”
“Takin’ care of a promise I made.”
“Alone?”
“I’ve got safe passage,” he retorted.“Might as well use it for the night.”
A long pause.“Be careful.”
“Always.”He turned on his heel and strode back toward the ball.Despite the overwhelming presence of blue bloods, a small smile played about his lips.
ThistimeLenawashis.
Six
No sign of the duke or duchess anywhere.
Lena growled under her breath and retreated down the hallway.It wouldn’t do to be caught here alone.As much as she wanted to discover more about the Scandinavian treaty, she wasn’t foolish enough to start searching rooms by herself at a ball full of predators.
Noise washed over her as she returned to the entry.Keeping an eye open for a certain verwulfen she wished to avoid, she ducked into the ballroom.
Time to leave.She just had to find Adele and her mother—who was chaperoning her tonight—and plead a case of nerves.Pasting a wan smile on her face, she slipped around the edges of the ballroom, searching for them.
A full circuit took her back to the main doors.Adele was wearing white, as befitted a woman actively searching for a protector, but none of the white-gowned debutantes were her.A little tick of fear started in Lena’s chest.She wouldn’t have left the ballroom, would she?Adele knew the consequences of that as well as she did.Here, they both had an illusion of safety.
Unless…she’d left with someone on purpose.Perhaps she’d found someone willing to take her as thrall?
Lena scurried along the windows, peering out into the shadowed gardens.Adele—cunning, smart Adele—would never place such a risk to her reputation again.Not without an ironclad thrall contract in hand.
Smiling at Adele’s mother, who stood gossiping with another matron, Lena pushed through the crowd and staggered into the entry.The grandfather clock ticked slowly in the middle of the staircase, but the room was empty.
The powder room.Maybe she was there?
Pushing open the small room, she ran into the Duchess of Casavian.
The woman caught her with strong, pale hands.Years ago, her father had infected her with the craving so that when he died, his House would not fade into obscurity.Aramina should have been considered a rogue, but her House was one of the Great Houses.After numerous assassination attempts she’d somehow survived, some said she’d blackmailed her way to power, forcing the Echelon to accept her.
