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Time was running out.

The thief-taker had been right. If Leila was sent to kill him, even though she denied it, that meant the Cardinal was onto him.

Norfolk had suspected his identity as well. He had left the drawing room at the musicale only when Gideon was preoccupied, dancing with Leila. His mistake was assuming Gideon was too engrossed with her to notice his disappearance.

If that was the case, it meant more people knew his identity as the Erebus. And that meant only one thing: he would soon be hunted.

This woman—this petite, fiery woman with a dark mane of hair and intelligent eyes—was the only one who could help him gain the upper hand. If she was telling the truth.

If she was lying, however… well, at least it would all be over soon.

He was tired. Bone-deep, soul-weary tired. He wouldn’t be able to keep hunting the Brotherhood for decades. The constant vigilance, the careful planning, the weight of carrying his grief and rage—it was consuming him from the inside out.

He was already forty-two, and he knew he couldn’t keep up with the vigilant, violent lifestyle for much longer.

It was time to end it all.

Perhaps if he gained her trust by saving her brother, she would uphold her end of the bargain and reveal the full truth about herself.

He was fairly certain that, even if what she said about swindling money from charities was true, it wasn’t the whole truth. She had tried to kill him more than once.

But she had failed, and he liked to believe it was because she had developed feelings for him as well. The kiss had been real; he was sure of it. The way she had melted into his body and the soft sound she made when he pulled her closer—those couldn’t be fabricated.

“Are you certain about the location?” he asked, leaning close to her ear.

She turned her head slightly, her cheek brushing against his jaw, sending a warm sensation through him. “No, not really. But that’s the only option I know of.”

At least that answer sounded truthful.

As they reached the outskirts of town, the buildings became sparser, and the streets less maintained. Until finally, they were surrounded by nothing but vegetation, trees, and empty dirt roads.

“Stop here,” Leila said, her voice cutting through the steady rhythm of hoofbeats. Gideon pulled on the reins, and the horse responded immediately to his command, snorting softly, its breath visible in the cool morning air.

Leila dismounted in one fluid motion, her movements reflecting years spent riding astride rather than the delicate sidesaddle expected of ladies. There was nothing delicate about Leila when necessity called—another indication that she was far more than she appeared to be, Gideon thought as he swung down from his own saddle.

He tied the horse’s reins to a sturdy oak branch, leaving the animal to graze on the sparse grass that grew in patches between the trees. The forest around them was eerily quiet, as if even the birds sensed the tension crackling between him and his companion.

They walked in complete silence for several minutes, Gideon’s instincts cataloging every shadow, every rustle of leaves, and every potential threat.

Leila stopped abruptly and pointed ahead through the dense canopy of branches. “Do you see that gray building hiding among the trees? That’s it.”

Gideon squinted, following her gesture until he spotted the structure she indicated. The building appeared dilapidated, its gray stone walls stained with age and weather. Several windows on the upper floors were boarded up. It looked abandoned, forgotten.

“I thought you said your brother lives under the Cardinal’s roof,” Gideon said. The building before them looked barely capable of sheltering stray cats, let alone serving as a prison for someone the Cardinal valued as leverage.

Leila nodded, but he noticed the slight tension in her shoulders. “Usually, yes. But when I am on assignment, they hide him so I don’t run off and try to find him.” That didn’t make much sense. Unless the Cardinal’s place was less guarded than this den—and unless she knew exactly where the Cardinal lived. She paused, and when she continued, her voice carried a note of uncertainty that suggested either genuine fear or exceptional acting. “This is just one building I noticed them stop at on the way to London. I don’t know if he’s in there, like I told you. But this is my best guess. And if he’s not in there, perhaps some other men are who can help us identify where he is kept.”

Gideon nodded. He continued watching the building with deep skepticism, searching for signs of habitation, for the telltale indicators that would suggest this was more than an elaborate ruse.

It could be a lair of some kind—he’d seen similar setups during his years of covert operations. He doubted they would find Leila’s brother there, but perhaps she was right. Maybe they would find something else valuable: intelligence, documents, or prisoners who could provide information about the Cardinal’s network.

Even as he thought it, he didn’t believe it.

The place seemed genuinely deserted. A couple of guards were positioned outside—he could see them through the trees, laughing, conversing, and drinking from their flasks with the nonchalance of men who expected no real trouble.

There were no signs of the infrastructure needed to maintain prisoners, no evidence of the kind of security the Cardinal would surely employ for something truly valuable.

However, Gideon knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. This place might have a secret entrance leading to an entire world underground. He had once watched a similar, unassuming tower, where an innocent-looking exterior concealed a very comfortable house inside. It wasn’t too far from here—a safe house that was now deserted, formerly the residence of the man Gideon had framed for his own murders. That man had since escaped the gallows with his princess wife.