“He did.”
If he were to ever break their number one rule, it would be for his uncle. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying,” Drake accused.
“I’m not. Why do you think I allowed you to catch me?”
Maxen barked out a laugh filled with fury. “Allowed us? Such a damn show you put up. Why not come to us from the very start? When you first learned of our uncle’s temperament?”
Peregrine’s bruised mouth curled. “Because he offered me a place when the rest of the world offered only a noose. He gave me a name to wield, coin to spend, and men to command.” His face turned mocking. “I just didn’t know what price I would pay.”
“And what price is that?” Maxen asked.
“My damn soul, brother dearest. My damn soul.”
Maxen surged forward, his grip crushing as he grabbed Peregrine by the coat again. “Do not talk to me about your soul. I made something from nothing. And if you are truly one of us, you mighthave had the same had you not chosen the viper’s den again and again.”
For a single second, Peregrine’s grin faltered. Then he lifted his chin, blood streaking his teeth. “Ah, kill me, ship me off, I’m dead anyway, and so is your little bird ifhefinds her.”
Maxen was about to drive his fist into Peregrine’s face again when the door creaked open and Reaper’s voice cut through the chamber.
“Frère, we have visitors.”
Maxen’s head snapped over his shoulder. “Who?”
“A lady with some blasted flower’s name, a marchioness, and her bloody marquess husband.”
“So handle them,” Maxen snarled. “I’m busy here.”
“Can’t,” Reaper said grimly. “They claim your little mouse has been kidnapped.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maxen shoved throughthe door with his brothers on his heels, his gaze instantly landing on the trio standing near the entrance of the tavern, as out of place as lilies in a field of ash. Bloody aristocracy. However, he recognized the women instantly as two of the ones who had visited Calliope’s shop the day after the scuffle with the intruder, who was now on his way to the nearest docks, awaiting his fate.
Saint, Knight, and Serpent, who had apparently kept watch over them as they waited, said nothing. Only Dagger was absent.
Maxen didn’t bother with niceties. “Where is Calliope?”
The man with the women scowled thunderously. The blonde woman at his side turned to him. “Ah, so I was not mistaken, at least. We’ve come to learn that she might have been kidnapped.”
Might have been. So they were not certain. “From whom did you learn this?”
“A boy who distributes pamphlets for me,” the red-haired woman said. “I’m Violet, by the way. I’ve just opened a flower shop.”
“When was this—the supposed kidnapping?”
“About four or five hours ago.”
“And you’re only coming to me now?” Maxen snarled before he could get a grip on the raging fire that flashed through him. “How did the boy know she was kidnapped? Was she in distress?”
“We were out,” the blonde one said. “We only just found out. My husband, Warton, tracked you down. We didn’t know who else to turn to, and well, you seemed rather protective of her that day we visited the shop.”
Of course. “The gothic hero.”
The blonde’s cheeks reddened.
