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But this was not one of them.
He could tell as much even before he flipped open the device and saw the blocked ID flashing on the display.
Intrigued, he picked up the call. The voice on the other end was not unfamiliar to him. He had done some illicit business with the individual recently and they still had a few things to discuss. At his prompting, the caller relayed details about a raid being hatched that very night on one of the smaller Rogue cells in the city.
In a matter of seconds, he was given everything he needed to make sure the raid turned in his favor - the location, the warriors' intended method and route, their basic plan of attack - all on the condition that one member of the Breed be spared retaliation. This sole warrior was not to be exempt entirely, however, only wounded enough that he would never be able to fight again. The fate of the rest, including the nearly unstoppable Lucan Thorne, was for the Rogues to decide.
Lucan's death had been part of their agreement once before, but execution of the task had not gone quite as planned. This time, the caller wanted assurances that the deed would, in fact, be carried out. Even went so far as to remind him that he had been given considerable compensation for the act, but had yet to make good on his part.
"I am well aware of our bargain," he seethed into the cell phone. "Do not tempt me to demand further payment from you. I promise you will regret it."
He snapped the device shut on a black curse, cutting short the politic backpedaling that had begun on the heels of his threat.
The dermaglyphs at his wrist pulsed with the deep hue of his rage, colors shifting within the pattern of other markings that had been tattooed on his skin as a form of disguise. He scowled at the need to hide his lineage - his birthright - with crude ink and secrecy. He loathed the necessity of his shadowy existence, almost as much as he did all those who stood in the way of his goals.
He was fuming as he stalked back inside the main area of the club. Through the dark, his gaze lit at once on his lieutenant, the only Rogue in recent history to have looked Lucan Thorne in the eyes and lived to tell about it. He gestured for the huge male to come over, then gave him orders for carrying out the night's fun and games.
Regardless of his secret negotiations, when the smoke cleared tonight, he wanted Lucan and all of the other warriors with him to be dead.
Chapter Twenty-five
He avoided her the rest of the day, which Gabrielle figured was probably just as well. Now, just past dusk, Lucan and the five other warriors strode out of the training facility as a unit, each of them a picture of menace in black leather and deadly weaponry. Even Gideon was joining in tonight's raid, going out in place of Conlan.
Waiting in the corridor to see them off, Savannah and Eva went to their mates and took them in long embraces. Soft, private words were exchanged in low, loving voices. Tender kisses spoke of a woman's fear and a man's strong reassurances that he would return safely to her.
Gabrielle stood some distance away in the hall, feeling so much an outsider as she watched Lucan say something to Savannah. The Breedmate nodded and he put a small object in her hand, his gaze trailing past her shoulder to light on Gabrielle. He said nothing, made no move to approach her, but his eyes lingered, drinking her in across the wide space that separated them now.
And then he was gone.
Striding ahead of the others, Lucan turned a corner at the far end of the corridor and disappeared. The rest of his cadre followed, leaving nothing but the hard clip of boot heels and the metallic jangle of steel in their wake.
"You okay?" Savannah asked, coming up to Gabrielle and wrapping a gentle arm around her shoulders.
"Yeah. I'll be fine."
"He wanted me to give you this." She held out Gabrielle's cell phone. "A peace offering of some sort?"
Gabrielle took it, nodding her head in agreement. "Things aren't going well between us right now."
"I'm sorry. Lucan said he trusts you'll understand you can't leave the compound, or tell your friends where you are. But if you need to call them..."
"Thank you." She looked up at Gideon's mate and managed a small smile.
"If you want some privacy, just make yourself at home anywhere you like." Savannah hugged her briefly, then glanced to Eva as the other woman came over to join them.
"I don't know about anyone else," Eva said, her beautiful face drawn with worry, "but I could use a drink. Or three."
"Maybe we all could use a little wine and company," Savannah replied. "Gabrielle, you come join us when you're ready. We'll be in my place."
"Okay. Thanks."
The two women moved off together, speaking quietly, their arms linked as they walked up the snaking corridor toward Savannah's and Gideon's apartments. Gabrielle wandered in the other direction, not sure where she wanted to be.
That wasn't actually true. She wanted to be with Lucan, in his arms, but she'd better get over that desperate wish, and quick. She wasn't about to beg him to want her, and assuming he made it back from tonight's raid in one piece, she had better prepare herself to put him out of her mind completely.
She strolled toward an open door down one quiet, dimly lit spoke of the hallway. A candle burned somewhere inside the empty chamber, the only light in the place. The solitude, and the smells of faded incense and old wood drew her in. It was the compound's chapel; she remembered passing it on her tour with Savannah.
Gabrielle walked between two rows of bench seats, toward a raised pedestal at the front of the chamber. It was there that the candle burned, a thick red pillar of slow-melting wax, its flame nestled deep in the core radiating a soft crimson glow. She sat down on one of the front row benches and simply breathed for a while, letting the peace of the sanctuary wash over her.
