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Gideon nodded. "A sister in Louisiana. I don't know about anyone else. But I can find out. I can take care of any loose threads. I want to be the one to explain everything to Savannah. After last night, I owe her that."
Lucan grunted, his expression stony, unconvinced.
Gideon pressed on. "I want to know what the sword that was used to slay my brothers is doing here in Boston. I want to know who has it, and why. I should think the Order would like that answer too, seeing how the son of a bitch in question murdered one human to get it and left another near death."
"We can't leave her out there on her own, Gid. Her knowledge is a threat to the entire Breed nation. It's also a threat to her, if the one who killed her roommate somehow learns there was a witness and turns his sights on Savannah."
Gideon's veins turned to ice at the thought. He would eviscerate any Breed male who so much as touched her with intent to harm. "I'm not about to let anyone hurt her. She needs to be protected."
"Agreed," Lucan said. "But that means day and night, something we can't enforce so long as she's living among the human population. And we sure as hell aren't bringing a civilian female here to the compound." Lucan stared, a tendon ticking in his square jaw. "You want to initiate her about the Breed and our world, fine. I'll give you that. You want to see if her talent can help us ID the bastard who attacked those humans the other night, that's yours too."
Gideon nodded, grateful for the chance and more relieved than he should have been at the prospect of Savannah being entrusted to his care.
Lucan cleared his throat pointedly. "You bring her up to speed. You question her. But you'll do all of this inside the secured shelter of a local Darkhaven. It's the best place for her right now, Gideon. You know that."
He did. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
And he didn't like it.
At the moment, he didn't see any better options.
"I'll make some calls," Lucan said. "This plan goes into motion tonight."
Gideon remained standing, his molars clamped together, fists curled at his sides as the Order's leader left the room. Tegan got up from his chair a moment later. He prowled toward Gideon, studying him with those unreadable eyes. He held something in his hand--a folded piece of paper, torn from the notebook that lay on the table alongside the pen he'd been toying with during the impromptu meeting.
"What's this?" Gideon said as the big Gen One offered the square of note paper to him.
Tegan didn't answer.
He strode out of the war room and headed down the corridor without a word.
The university campus was crowded with students that next day at noontime, people seated in small groups under tall, leafy oaks, eating packed lunches, others playing sports on the broad, green lawns. It seemed practically everyone was taking advantage of a sunny and warm October day. A pretty snapshot of a world that seemed so innocent. So...normal.
Savannah strolled past her chattering, laughing, carefree classmates, her steps hurried on the concrete sidewalk, her arms wrapped tightly around her book bag.
She had just left a meeting with her academic advisor, who'd given her clearance for a short leave of absence from her classes. She was going home soon, leaving in several hours. Although she'd told the advisor she expected to return to class in a couple of weeks, after she dealt with some "personal issues," Savannah wasn't sure there was enough time in the world to come to terms with everything she'd seen over the past few days.
She still wondered if she were somehow losing her mind. Gideon hadn't seemed to think so last night. It had been incredibly sweet of him to check in on her, concerned that she had called in sick from work. His comfort, although totally uninvited and unexpected, had been just what she needed.
His kiss hadn't been half bad either. More like, incredible. She hadn't been prepared for how good it felt to be in his arms, her mouth under his control. If she concentrated, she could still feel the heat of his lips on hers. And her body remembered too, every nerve ending going tingly and warm at just the thought of being wrapped up in him.
If Gideon were a lesser man, he might have used her shaky emotional state to his advantage last night and tried to get into her pants. God knew, after the kiss they shared, she likely wouldn't have needed much convincing to let him take things further.
She had actually dreamt he stayed with her most of the night. But there was no sign of him when she woke up alone this morning in her bed, still dressed in her tank top and jeans.
Would she see him again?
Probably not very likely. She had no idea how to reach him. No idea where he lived, or what he did for a living. She didn't even know his full name. Somehow, since their first chance meeting, he had managed to avoid revealing her a single thing of significance about himself, other than the facts that he was obviously well-read and well-educated.
Not to mention endlessly patient and understanding when it came to hysterical women going off about woo-woo ESP abilities and supernatural creatures that couldn't possibly exist outside slasher films and horror novels.
Gideon had been more than patient or understanding, in fact. He'd been a source of calm for her, more supportive than she ever could have hoped. Some part of her believed him when he said he could help her figure everything out. That he wanted to help her make sense of what she'd told him, even though inwardly he had to suspect she was more than a little touched.
There was a part of her that believed Gideon to be capable of anything he said, anything he promised. He simply projected that air of total, unswerving command. He filled any room he was in, radiated an indefinable power. His intelligent blue eyes told anyone who looked in them that he possessed the wit and experience of a man twice his age.
Just how old was he, anyway?
Savannah had mentally placed him around thirty, but she couldn't be certain. He never did answer when she asked him his age that first night in the library. He seemed too worldly, too wise somehow, to be older than her by just a decade-plus. He had to be much older than she had assumed, yet his face had no lines, no scars or blemishes to betray his years.
