Hands caught him roughly by the arms and forced him to his knees. The room was in an uproar, dukes calling out across the table, but he could only see two faces. His father, his mouth slightly open as if in shock, the only one still seated; and the duchess, curse her blood, as she circled the table, going to the queen’s side.

The room went dark as his hunger rose. He could feel his rage building. Not like this. The prince consort had outplayed him—and well. Must have been eyes on the rookery. Eyes on him. Of course. He should have guessed it. The prince consort wanted to regain control of the Council, and now he was making his move against all those that threatened it.

“You said in your message that he would be spared,” the Duke of Caine called, looking up at his prince, his ally. “If I didn’t deny it.”

The prince consort didn’t even bother to look at him, too busy gloating as he smiled at Leo. “I changed my mind.”

The world went black for just a second. For the first time in his life, Leo let his demons rule him, and it was as if the world suddenly shot into vital blood-soaked clarity.

Both guards went down beneath his hand and then he snatched at acres of silk, drawing Mina back against his chest and bringing his blood-letting knife up against her throat.

The room froze. Mina sucked in a breath, her heart thumping in her chest. He could feel it all the way through her slim back.

“Kill him,” the prince consort snarled.

“No!” the queen screamed, on her feet at last, the dead look fading from her expression. “He’ll hurt her.”

“She’ll heal.”

“Not from this,” Leo promised, taking a step back to keep them all in view, but the instant he said it, the red haze washed from his vision. No. Not her, the darkness in him whispered.

He let out a breath. Couldn’t let them see it.

“Don’t follow us,” he snapped, stepping back against the heavy brass doors, dragging the duchess with him. “Or I swear to the blood that I’ll kill her.”

Eleven

“What are you doing?” Mina staggered down the stairs, ruthlessly hauled by Barrons. “Where are you taking me?”

She couldn’t catch her breath. All she could see were those damning photographs—the same ones Gow had given her the other night. But she’d burned them. How the devil had the prince consort gotten his hands on them and worked out what she had?

Gow. He’d been in her household for years as one of the few she could rely on to get the information she needed. So bland and unassuming, never asking for anything more than he was owed.

The Falcons were not only assassins but also spies. It wasn’t beyond belief to imagine that the prince consort would try to infiltrate all of their houses. Indeed, she often vetted prospective employees very carefully. But what if the spy had already been there, trusted under her father, inherited by her? She hadn’t queried the employees she already had.

But Gow as the spy made too much sense not to be true.

She’d done this. Cast Barrons to the lions as carelessly as if she’d done it deliberately, and from the harsh look in his eyes, he’d never forgive her.

Barrons hauled her to the side of the spiral staircase that circled the center of the Ivory Tower and peered over the rail. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, shooting a look above them. From the sound of voices and tramping feet, at least a dozen Coldrush Guards were swarming down on them from above, and more were heading up from below. A bell rang somewhere, pealing out its warning.

He was trapped here.

Or was he? There was a rushing sound in her ears as she stared at the hard line of his jaw and that jaunty ruby that hung from his ear. She could get him out. If she dared.

Sacrifices must be made, the queen’s voice whispered in her head. For the greater good.

Not this. Not him. Biting her lip, Mina refused to examine the unsettling sensation burning in her chest. She owed Barrons a debt for his actions the other night with the Falcons—and so did the queen. It was as simple as that.

Grabbing his sleeve, she gestured downward. It was like trying to haul a statue with her bare hands. “I know another way out…one that very few people know about.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I think it a trap?”

“Because if you’re cornered, I can’t predict what you’ll do to me,” she shot back, staring into those dark eyes and willing him to see that she spoke the truth. “And I never wanted…this.”

For a moment his expression tightened, not anger or fury but grief. And she felt again how she had in that moment the prince consort had dropped his devastating words into the room—when Barrons had looked up, just once, and known that everything he’d fought for was lost.

Heart twisting, her grip softened on his sleeve.

“I made a mistake,” she whispered. “This is my fault. Please, let me undo some of the damage.”

And he wanted to believe her. She could see the yearning in his expression, that of a man with no other allies in this moment and who desperately wanted one. Then his face hardened. “If you betray me again, I promise I will destroy you before they kill me. Do you understand?”

Somehow she nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat.

“Then show me how to get out of here.”

* * *

There was nowhere to go. All of his properties would be compromised, including those that belonged to the families of his friends and thralls.

Nowhere to go… Or perhaps only one place the prince consort wouldn’t dare follow him.

Whitechapel.

The secret tunnel spilled them out at the base of Crowe Tower. One of the four smaller towers that circled the Ivory Tower, Crowe Tower was so named for the flock of ravens that circled its peak.

Peering around the edge of a stone gateway, Leo saw dozens of Coldrush Guards streaming into the Ivory Tower. Nobody had seen him and the duchess vanish into one of the smaller sitting rooms with a mirror hiding a secret passage he’d never known existed.

“Let me go,” the duchess whispered. “I swear I won’t sound the alarm.”

He dragged her forward into the shadows of the royal stables. “Your word lost its value for me half an hour ago. Besides, I might still need a hostage.”

Brandy-brown eyes raked the walls and the main gates that led to the tower. “If you were by yourself, you could scale the walls. I can’t. Not in this.” A gesture to her full, creamy skirts. Finally she gave him a look filled with defiance. “And I wouldn’t, either.”