Forged by Desire Read Online Free Page A

the sofa.
    As soon as she sat, Garrett pushed away from the fireplace behind her. She felt his presence stirring the air as he brushed past. Perry stiffened. So much had changed in the past month and it was entirely her fault.
    For years her devilishly handsome partner had looked at her as just another Nighthawk, while she’d been plagued by foolish, girlish ideas. Something she’d never acted on, of course, or betrayed even the slightest hint of, but she couldn’t seem to banish the feelings.
    She thought she could control them. And then last month two things had changed her entire world. Garrett had been seriously wounded by a rabid blue blood lord to the point where she’d almost thought she would lose him. Only her blood had saved his life and she’d sat by his bed for days, a horrible, sickening feeling inside her.
    Then barely a week later, once he was healed, the incident at the opera had occurred.
    She could never think of it without referring to it as the “incident.” Stupid, reckless pride. That was the cause of her current predicament.
    “Don’t play games you can’t afford to lose. I’ll only offer my surrender this once.”
    Advice she wished she’d listened to.
    Garrett settled onto the sofa beside her, his arms stretching out along the back of it and jolting her out of the memory. Ever since that night, she’d hardly seen him. Not only had he partnered her with Byrnes, but he was frequently “busy” attending to guild matters. It could have been coincidence. Perhaps.
    “Find anything interesting in the newspaper?” he asked.
    “Nothing worth repeating.”
    “Then is it possible at all for us to have this meeting?” Frustration edged his words. He tugged his pocket watch out of his leather coat. “You’re fifteen minutes late. I’d expect it of Byrnes…”
    Byrnes arched a brow but said nothing. The two men had been at each other’s throats for the past month. It didn’t help matters that the ruling Council of Dukes hadn’t officially confirmed Garrett’s advancement as Master of the Nighthawks. The Council had allowed Lynch to establish the guild under their control forty years ago, and Byrnes was taking full advantage of their indecision in this matter.
    “We’re here now,” she replied.
    “Excellent.” Garrett scanned the room. “I have here a writ from the Council. They have agreed to examine my claim as Master of the Nighthawks. If no one has any objections, of course?”
    Though he didn’t quite look at Byrnes, Perry did. The other man shrugged as if he didn’t care, but his arctic eyes gleamed. He and Garrett had been with the Nighthawks for a similar length of time, and both had worked within the inner rank of Lynch’s Hand—the five who had been his most trusted lieutenants.
    Lynch had created the Nighthawks forty years ago, and in all that time there’d never been a thought given to succession. Lynch had always seemed invulnerable—until he’d met Rosa, the devilish revolutionary who’d stolen his heart and set his feet on a new path.
    “No objections?”
    Silence greeted the room.
    “Moving on, then.” Garrett briskly placed the letter beside him. “Matters of importance include Lady Walters’s missing diamonds, a murder in Bethnal Green, and some sort of rumors about fighting in the Pits…” His voice droned on and Perry found herself only half listening, which was unusual.
    She’d known this new life she’d found wouldn’t last as soon as she’d read that the Moncrieff had been exiled for ten years. This year made only nine, which meant the prince consort had recalled him for some reason—and not only recalled him, but offered him a seat on the Council of Dukes who ruled the city.
    Such a position was an honor. What the devil had Moncrieff done for the prince consort to reward him as such? And what was she going to do?
    Everyone thought Octavia was dead, murdered by the Moncrieff’s own hand and buried in an unmarked grave somewhere. She’d