Forged by Desire Read Online Free Page B

made sure of that—the blood that had washed his bedroom left little doubt that someone had died there.
    The only person who might suspect she was alive would be the Moncrieff himself.
    Shock was starting to wear off. She’d hoped their paths wouldn’t cross, but she knew him too well. Now that he was back in London he’d be looking for her, trying to read a trail that was nearly ten years old. With luck, he’d never find her, but if he did…
    “We also have a supposed sighting of a ghost, down at Brickbank where they’re rebuilding the draining factories.”
    That jerked her out of her reverie.
    Perry looked up and realized that Garrett was watching her. “ What? ” Was he jesting with her? Trying to see if she’d been paying attention?
    “A ghost?” Byrnes asked in disbelief. “Sounds like someone’s been at the gin again.”
    “A ghost sighting and two bodies,” Garrett repeated, “at the draining factory this morning.”
    The enormous factories near Brickbank were where the blood gathered in the blood taxes was stored, purified, and bottled for the Echelon’s private use.
    “Perry,” Garrett continued, “I want you on this, along with myself.”
    He hadn’t worked with her in more than a month. If she hadn’t been trying so hard to avoid him, she’d almost suspect he’d been avoiding her too. Which was ridiculous. What had happened at the opera—the almost kiss—was likely nothing to Garrett. Flirting with women was the same as breathing for him.
    “As you wish.” She let out a slow breath. This was her job. It didn’t mean anything and she could do this, pretend that there was nothing between them but friendship. She’d been doing it for years.
    “Excellent.” Garrett straightened, looking around. “Nothing else?”
    Byrnes glanced at her, then at Garrett. When she arched a brow at him, Byrnes gave her a tight little smile that could have meant something or nothing at all. “Nothing that would interest anyone else.” He stood and stretched like a cat. “Though I will be sorry to lose my partner.”
    Perry shot him a withering glare.
    “You’re not,” Garrett announced, leaning back against the sofa and staring Byrnes down. “You’re exchanging partners. I’m sending you out with a novice.”
    The stretch faltered. “I work better alone. You know that.”
    “You’re one of the best trackers the Nighthawks have,” Garrett replied, just as quickly. “I want some of the better novices to be paired with you at times, so they may learn.”
    “They’ll slow me down.”
    “Then hurry them up.”
    Garrett pushed to his feet, clasping his hands behind his back and turning away from Byrnes, effectively ignoring him. Doyle and Fitz sat quietly on the opposite sofa, watching the byplay with entirely different expressions. Fitz looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and Doyle seemed to be mentally placing bets.
    Doyle scratched his chin and, with a slight grunt, climbed to his feet, working out the kink in his hip. “You boys want to play cock o’ the yard, you ought to get yourselves down to the trainin’ room and work it out. The guild don’t need us fightin’ among ourselves with all this upheaval.” He paused in front of Byrnes on his way out. “My money’s on Red, just so you know.”
    Byrnes gave one of those slow shrugs he was famous for. He stood and clapped Doyle on the back. “Don’t get too cozy with it, then.”
    With a rough laugh, Doyle escorted him out of the room. Fitz slunk after them with an almost apologetic look at Garrett. One of the reasons he lived in the dungeons and played with clockwork weaponry was because he abhorred violence.
    Perry found her feet, eyeing the door.
    “Perry.”
    Damn it . She froze and glanced at Garrett reluctantly. “I was going to get ready. I’ll meet you downstairs and get the boilers going on the steam coach.”
    Garrett turned to face her, his hands still clasped behind himself and his eyes spearing through