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recovering well, though not as quickly as I’d like—”
    Nor as quickly as he once had. Will nodded brusquely. “I seen him.”
    “Of course.”
    It was the first place he would have gone.
    Tugging off her magnifying glassicals, she began to remove her apron. The attic had been sectioned into two rooms, one for Honoria’s laboratory and the other for Blade’s boxing saloon. Will’d never been in here before. It was solely Honoria’s domain, and while he’d expected sterile benches and equipment, he was surprised by the pair of cozy, overstuffed armchairs by the hearth and the mounds of paperwork. Honoria struck him as someone who was obsessively organized.
    “Can I help you with anything?” No doubt she was almost as surprised to see him here as he was.
    Will dragged the letter from his pocket. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but Honoria’s inquisitive little mind took to codes like a duck to water. “Can you decipher this?”
    She took it, scratching her thumbnail through the waxy substance that coated it. “Hmm. I can try. It might take a while. Is it important?”
    “Could be.”
    She shot him a look.
    “Found it on the men as stabbed Blade.”
    The color drained from her face and she glared down at the letter. “I’ll do my best then. When did you retrieve this?”
    “This morning,” he muttered. “Tracked ’em into the sewers.”
    “Are they still breathing?”
    “Aye.”
    Surprise widened her eyes—then they narrowed with an expression that was quite bloodthirsty. “May I ask why?”
    “The Nighthawks were on me heels. They’ve got ’em in custody, no doubt.”
    “That’s not like you, leaving an enemy behind.” Crossing to the bench, she tapped the letter against her lips.
    His cue to leave.
    As if sensing it, she glanced over her shoulder, eyelashes shuttering her luminous eyes. It felt like a punch to the gut, the gesture so reminiscent of Lena that he swallowed hard. Definitely time to get out of here.
    But as he turned, he heard a set of footsteps on the stairs.
    “May I ask a favor of you, Will?”
    His hand hovered over the doorknob, nostrils flaring. The scent of leather and blud-wein assaulted his nose. Blade. Which meant Honoria had him neatly trapped. He couldn’t be rude and make his escape. “What?”
    “Blade suggested I should take a sample of your blood.”
    Of course he did. She’d spent the last three years sticking holes in her husband. No doubt Blade thought it high time she turned that obsessive little mind toward someone else. A chill ran down his spine. Needles. Frigging needles.
    Seeing the look on his face, she hurried on. “To see if there’s any chance of finding a cure. Or vaccination.” With a sigh, she added, “My work here has stalled. Charlie’s not responding to the vaccinated blood the same way as Blade did. And Blade’s results have reached a plateau for the moment. His CV levels are sitting as low as forty-eight and have been for six months, thank goodness.”
    The door opened. Honoria’s gaze shot straight past Will. For once, he was grateful not to be the recipient of that diamond stare. “What the devil do you think you’re doing out of bed?”
    Blade kicked the door shut with his heel. White as parchment and moving stiffer than an eighty-year-old man, he struggled to catch his breath. “Good to see you too, luv.”
    “I gave strict instructions that you were to remain bedridden for the next three days. Then we would renegotiate.”
    “Which means she’ll decide if I can or can’t get up.” Blade winked at Will. “I couldn’t stand to be without you another moment, luv. Me ’eart were breakin’.”
    Honoria pointed. “Chair. Now.”
    Handing Will his bottle of blud-wein, he settled into one of the armchairs by the fireplace whilst Honoria clucked and scolded him. Blade bore it with goodwill, but his eyes sparkled whenever her back was turned.
    Will shifted on his feet, but Honoria saw the movement and looked up from