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Lucan roared up on the vampire in a furious, black rage. "What did you say to her? Did you touch her? So help me, if you did anything to her - "
Tegan chuckled, genuinely amused. "Easy, man. No need to come off your chain about it. Your female's none of my concern."
"You remember that," Lucan said. He whirled around to meet the curious gazes of the other warriors. "She's no concern for any of you, are we clear? Gabrielle Maxwell is under my personal protection while she is in this compound. Once she leaves for the Darkhavens, she'll no longer be my concern, either."
It took him a minute to simmer down and not give in to the urge to go head-to-head with Tegan. One day, it was probably going to come to that. And Lucan couldn't totally blame the male for holding a grudge. If Tegan was a mean-ass soulless bastard, Lucan was the one who helped make him that way.
"Can we get back to business now?" he snarled, daring someone to stoke him further. "I need to hear facts about this harbor location."
Tegan launched into a description of what he'd observed about the likely Rogue lair, and offered his suggestions for how the group of them could go about raiding it. Although the source of this information bothered Lucan somewhat, he couldn't think of a better way to cap off his black mood than with an offensive strike on their enemies.
God knew, if he ended up anywhere near Gabrielle again, all his tough talk about duty and doing what was right by her would be scattered like dust. It had been a couple of hours since he'd left her in his bedroom, and she was still foremost in his mind. Need for her still tore through him when he thought about her soft, warm skin.
And thinking about how he'd hurt her made a space like a cold pit open up in his chest. She had proven herself a true ally in covering for him with the other warriors. She had held him through his own bit of personal hell last night, standing by him, as tender and loving as any male could ever want in a cherished mate.
Dangerous thinking, no matter how he chose to look at it.
He let the discussion about the raid continue, agreeing that they needed to start hitting the Rogues where they lived, rather than picking them off individually as they ran across them in the street. "We'll meet back in here at sundown to suit up and head out."
The group of warriors began conversing amongst themselves as they dispersed, Tegan sauntering along at the rear.
Lucan considered the stoic loner, who took such damnable pride in the fact that he didn't need anyone. Tegan willfully kept himself detached, isolated. But he hadn't always been like that. Once, he'd been a golden boy, a born leader. He could have been great - had been, in fact. But all of that changed in the course of one terrible night. From there, a steep downward spiral began. Tegan hit bottom and had never recovered.
And although he had never admitted it to the warrior, Lucan would never forgive himself for the role he had played in that fall.
"Tegan. Hold up."
The vampire paused with obvious reluctance. He didn't turn around, just stood there in silence, his back held at an arrogant angle as the other warriors filed out of the training facility and into the corridor. When they were alone, Lucan cleared his throat and spoke to his Gen One brethren.
"You and I have a problem, Tegan."
He exhaled sharply. "I'll go alert the media."
"This issue between us isn't going to go away. It's been too long, too much water over the dam. If you need to settle the score with me - "
"Forget it. It's ancient history."
"Not if we can't bury it."
Tegan scoffed, turning to look at him at last. "You got a point here, Lucan?"
"I just want to say that I think I'm starting to understand what it cost you. What I cost you." Lucan slowly shook his head, ran a hand over his scalp. "T, you have to know that if there had been any other way... If things could've gone down differently..."
"Jesus Christ. Are you trying to apologize to me?" Tegan's green eyes were hard enough to cut glass. "Spare me the concern, man. You're about five-hundred years too late. And sorry doesn't change a fucking thing, does it?"
Lucan clamped his jaws together, stunned to feel true anger rolling off the big male, instead of the usual cool apathy.
Tegan hadn't forgiven him. Not even close.
After all this time, he didn't think it likely that he ever would.
"No, T. You're right. Sorry doesn't change anything."
Tegan stared at him for a long moment, then turned away and stalked out of the room.
Live music screamed out of refrigerator-sized amplifiers at the front of the private underground nightclub - although "music" was a generous description of the band's pathetic caterwauling and discordant guitar riffs. The group moved robotically on the stage, slurring their words and dropping far more beats than they hit. In a word, they sucked.
But then, who could expect the humans to perform with any sort of expertise when they were playing before a crowd of bloodthirsty, feeding vampires?
