The Duke is Wicked (League of Lords #3) - Tracy Sumner Page 0,92

each other and their daughter, in love with life. Preferring to reside in their castle, they infrequently traveled to London for ducal business. They had set the town on its ear with their refusal to live in separate dwellings, or even separate bedrooms as it was rumored, a rare, very quizzical, oft-studied love match.

Their venture to have a marriage on their terms was turning out to be a success.

Sebastian was working with Piper and Victoria and had gained more control over his gift. Or his curse, as he called it. They hadn’t had to use the water engine again, a minimal blaze in the green sitting room last month during a spontaneous lovemaking session while the baby napped, the only incident worth discussing. Regarding her dilemma, Delaney’s extortionist hadn’t visited since the time she’d stepped into Delaney’s path and caused her to be thrown from her mount. She hadn’t received another note nor seen the girl again, not since—

Delaney gasped and stumbled, coming to a halt steps from the men, who’d begun to argue and tussle, not yet noticing her.

The girl stood by the tree Sebastian slumbered beneath, close enough for her gown, should she actually have been present, to brush his boot. She looked like an apparition, a shimmering, dilute gray Delaney could peer directly through. Tall, slender, beautiful, her eyes wide and taking full command of her finely-boned face. A streak of soot marred her cheek and chin. Wherever she’d come from, it had been a battle to get here.

Goosebumps peppered Delaney’s skin. If she got close enough, she suspected she’d be able to pass her hand through the girl’s likeness.

Taking a step forward, Delaney cataloged every detail, because Julian would want to know later. She’d learned this lesson well. Antiquated attire, turn of the century possibly. High-waisted gown with gathers beneath her breasts and at her neck. Poor quality, the hem ragged, the bodice edge frayed. The only flash of color, her eyes, which blazed as deep an indigo as Finn’s in the sunlight. And her hair, a fierce mix of auburn and ginger.

Without warning, the girl dropped to her knee and reached for Sebastian’s hand. Delaney screamed and broke into a run. Her shout alerted Julian and Finn, who turned in shock, watching the situation unfold. Before any of them could reach her, the girl snaked her hand into the duke’s coat pocket and eased the Soul Catcher free with an adept move only Simon would’ve been able to replicate.

Rising to her feet, she held out her arm, the gem gleaming on her outstretched hand. Sebastian hadn’t awakened, such was his exhaustion. He was safe. They were safe. She didn’t pose a threat. Somehow, Delaney knew this, even as desperation rippled from the girl in waves, an unrelenting emotional tide.

Simon pushed past Delaney and got close enough to the girl to touch, should he have been able to do so. “Who are you? Why can’t you talk to me like the others? Haunts filling my ears day and night with their complaints? When you’re the only one I’ve wanted to talk to. Don’t you know that?”

The girl shook her head and lurched back, shimmering, her image fading. But her gaze never strayed from Simon. Her dark blue eyes misted with tears, her fingers closing about the Soul Catcher and bringing it to a place just above her heart.

“No,” Simon whispered, his voice hoarse, close to breaking from the sound of it. “Don’t go. Not before you’ve told me how to find you.”

I’m sorry, the girl mouthed, and with a watery flutter, a vibration softer than the flicker of a butterfly’s wings, she was gone.

Simon dropped to his knees, braced his hands on the ground and hung his head, sunbeams glinting off his flaxen hair and the elegant curve of his neck. A tortured gasp left his lips, a sound like an animal in pain.

Finn was there instantly, crouching beside him. He was closer to Simon than a brother, and as protective as Julian, much to the young man’s dismay. They made a stunning portrait, two broad-bodied men kneeling in the sunlight. “The League will find her, Si. Delaney can search every book on the occult going back for centuries. I’ll go through my letters, contact our associates in other countries. There must be a clue somewhere. She can travel through time, obviously, a gift we’ve never explored. She isn’t one of your haunts, don’t you see? We’ll find the answer to this puzzle. My darling Victoria