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Authors: Seduction Is Forever
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the violence the man courted and reveled in. No one was quite certain how he had gotten that scar, but every theory was more dangerous and horrifying than the next.
Emily felt a powerful urge to run. Forget her training, ignore her instincts and just flee to safety. But she gripped her hands into fists at her sides and battled through the fear. Something was going on here and it was her duty to determine what it was.
With effort, she leaned closer. What the hell was Leary doing here? His crimes and connections were infamous, he was sought by authorities of all kinds, so he rarely showed his face in public. Yet here he was, at The Blue Pony, leaning back against a worn fireplace mantel like he was king of the underground.
She held her breath, shoving her emotions aside as she lifted one trembling hand to gently push the door open just a hair more. She needed to see who the other two men were to get a better picture of what Leary was up to, because every instinct she possessed told her she had stumbled upon something much bigger than the threats against Grant. A real case, not just something easy to keep her occupied because her friends believed her incapable.
After she shot a final wary glance at Leary, she took in the other men. The one standing wasn’t feeding the third after all. He was applying makeup of some kind. Her muscles tensed as she watched. The act seemed so familiar, but she couldn’t yet understand what it meant.
Finally, the man who was seated got to his feet and slowly turned. Emily jolted back, covering her mouth to keep a gasp from escaping her lips. His face looked exactly like the Prince Regent’s. If not for his smaller build, she would have thought him to be the very man.
The one assisting the false Prince slung a bulky suit of some kind over his arms and began to lace it in the back. A suit to make the imposter appear heavy and soft like George IV was. Under clothing, it would be the perfect disguise. And suddenly everything clicked in Emily’s mind.
She had unwittingly uncovered a plot against the Regent.
“Hey!”
Leary straightened up from the mantel and threw the tumbler in his hand right at the door toward her. Emily barely dove out of the way as glass smashed into the wall behind her, sending shards of cheap crystal raining down over her.
She couldn’t help but scream. Her body froze, her training forgotten as she flashed back to the explosion of the gun that had cut her down half a year ago.
Then Leary’s harsh voice echoed through her fog, “The whore! She seen! Get her!”
Emily fought the urge to curl into a ball. She had to run. Rolling from her crouched position on the floor, she shoved to her feet and bolted down the hall.
Grant took a swig of the cheap whiskey that had been poured for him and swore. The taste was bad enough, but it was his frustration that truly caused the curse.
He knew the carriage that had pulled away from The Blue Pony was Emily’s. He was certain of it! Yet he had searched the entire establishment from cellar to top floor and found no trace of her. He’d even gone so far as to ask a few of his more trusted contacts around the hall, but none had seen a woman matching her description.
So where had she gone? Had she departed her carriage at another destination when Grant and his driver lost her momentarily in the streets? Had she not gone into The Blue Pony at all, but another of the worn-down buildings nearby?
There was no way to know. All he could do was sit here in the main room of the hell, drinking bad whiskey like a damn fool. He got to his feet and tossed a few coins on the bar before he turned toward the door. There was no use staying any longer. Emily wasn’t here. He would have to regroup and go back to her home to see if she’d returned. Later he could figure out where the hell she had gone.
He moved all of two steps toward the door when a woman burst from the back hallway and darted through the thinning crowd in an amazing show
Emily felt a powerful urge to run. Forget her training, ignore her instincts and just flee to safety. But she gripped her hands into fists at her sides and battled through the fear. Something was going on here and it was her duty to determine what it was.
With effort, she leaned closer. What the hell was Leary doing here? His crimes and connections were infamous, he was sought by authorities of all kinds, so he rarely showed his face in public. Yet here he was, at The Blue Pony, leaning back against a worn fireplace mantel like he was king of the underground.
She held her breath, shoving her emotions aside as she lifted one trembling hand to gently push the door open just a hair more. She needed to see who the other two men were to get a better picture of what Leary was up to, because every instinct she possessed told her she had stumbled upon something much bigger than the threats against Grant. A real case, not just something easy to keep her occupied because her friends believed her incapable.
After she shot a final wary glance at Leary, she took in the other men. The one standing wasn’t feeding the third after all. He was applying makeup of some kind. Her muscles tensed as she watched. The act seemed so familiar, but she couldn’t yet understand what it meant.
Finally, the man who was seated got to his feet and slowly turned. Emily jolted back, covering her mouth to keep a gasp from escaping her lips. His face looked exactly like the Prince Regent’s. If not for his smaller build, she would have thought him to be the very man.
The one assisting the false Prince slung a bulky suit of some kind over his arms and began to lace it in the back. A suit to make the imposter appear heavy and soft like George IV was. Under clothing, it would be the perfect disguise. And suddenly everything clicked in Emily’s mind.
She had unwittingly uncovered a plot against the Regent.
“Hey!”
Leary straightened up from the mantel and threw the tumbler in his hand right at the door toward her. Emily barely dove out of the way as glass smashed into the wall behind her, sending shards of cheap crystal raining down over her.
She couldn’t help but scream. Her body froze, her training forgotten as she flashed back to the explosion of the gun that had cut her down half a year ago.
Then Leary’s harsh voice echoed through her fog, “The whore! She seen! Get her!”
Emily fought the urge to curl into a ball. She had to run. Rolling from her crouched position on the floor, she shoved to her feet and bolted down the hall.
Grant took a swig of the cheap whiskey that had been poured for him and swore. The taste was bad enough, but it was his frustration that truly caused the curse.
He knew the carriage that had pulled away from The Blue Pony was Emily’s. He was certain of it! Yet he had searched the entire establishment from cellar to top floor and found no trace of her. He’d even gone so far as to ask a few of his more trusted contacts around the hall, but none had seen a woman matching her description.
So where had she gone? Had she departed her carriage at another destination when Grant and his driver lost her momentarily in the streets? Had she not gone into The Blue Pony at all, but another of the worn-down buildings nearby?
There was no way to know. All he could do was sit here in the main room of the hell, drinking bad whiskey like a damn fool. He got to his feet and tossed a few coins on the bar before he turned toward the door. There was no use staying any longer. Emily wasn’t here. He would have to regroup and go back to her home to see if she’d returned. Later he could figure out where the hell she had gone.
He moved all of two steps toward the door when a woman burst from the back hallway and darted through the thinning crowd in an amazing show
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