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Lucan arched a wry I-told-you-so brow at her. "Load the images from the camera and tell the others we'll meet in an hour to discuss the new strategy. I think we just may have saved some crucial time here."
"Right. See you in sixty."
The call ended with a click of the intercom.
"Tegan was going to go back to the asylum?"
"Yeah," Lucan replied. "A likely suicide mission since he was lunatic enough to insist that he infiltrate solo tonight to gather intel on the place. Not that anyone was going to persuade him differently, least of all me."
He got up off the bed and began inspecting some of his bandages. As he shifted, the top of his robe sagged open, revealing most of his chest and a wedge of his abdomen. The unique markings on his chest were a pale shade of henna, lighter than they had been last night. Now they looked as sallow as the rest of him. Parched and nearly colorless.
"Why are you and Tegan at such odds with each other?" she asked, keeping a close eye on him as she dared the question that had been on her mind ever since Lucan had mentioned the warrior's name. "What happened between you?"
At first, she didn't think he was going to say anything. He kept prodding his injuries, testing the flex of his arms and legs in silence. Then, just about the time she would have given up, he said, "Tegan blames me for taking something from him. Something he cherished." He looked squarely at her now. "His Breedmate died. By my hand."
"Good lord," she whispered. "Lucan... how?"
He frowned, glanced away again. "Things were different in the Old Times when Tegan and I first knew each other. Warriors, for the most part, chose not to take Breedmates because the dangers were too great. There were few of us in the Order then, and protecting our families was difficult when combat took us leagues away from them, often for months at a time."
"What about the Darkhavens? Wouldn't they have provided some protection?"
"There were fewer of those then, too. And even less that would welcome the risk of housing a warrior's Breedmate. We, and those we loved, were consistent targets of Rogue violence. Tegan knew all of this, but he bonded himself to a female anyway. Not long afterward, she was captured by the Rogues. They tortured her. Raped her. And before they sent her back to him, they nearly drained her. She was an empty husk - worse than that, she was made a Minion of the Rogue who ruined her."
"Oh, my God," Gabrielle gasped, horrified.
Lucan sighed, as if the weight of the memories pressed hard on him. "Tegan went insane with rage. He became like an animal, slaughtering everything in his path. He would appear so awash in gore that many thought he had bathed in blood. He gorged himself in his fury, and, for nearly a year, he refused to accept the fact that his Breedmate's mind was lost forever. He kept feeding her from his vein, unwilling to see her corruption. He fed to feed her. He didn't care that he was steadily sliding into Bloodlust. For that entire year, he defied Breed law, and would not put her out of her misery. As for Tegan himself, he was slowly, but surely, going Rogue. Something had to be done..."
When he let the statement hang, unfinished, Gabrielle spoke for him. "And as leader, it fell to you to take action."
Lucan gave a grim nod. "I put Tegan in a thick stone cell, and then I put his Breedmate to the sword."
Gabrielle closed her eyes, sensing his regret. "Oh, Lucan..."
"Tegan wasn't freed until his body had withdrawn from its Bloodlust addiction. It took many months of near starvation and absolute agony for him to be able to walk out of that cell on his own legs. When he realized what I'd done, I thought he would try to kill me. But he didn't. The Tegan I knew didn't come out of that cell at all. Something colder did. He's never said the words, but I know he's hated me ever since."
"Not as much as you hate yourself."
His jaw was clenched hard, drawing the lean skin tighter across his cheekbones. "I'm used to making difficult choices. I'm not afraid to take on the hard tasks, or to be the target of anger, even hatred, because of the decisions I make for the betterment of the Breed. I don't give a damn about any of that."
"No, you don't," she said gently. "But you had to hurt a friend, and that has weighed heavily on you for a long, long time."
The look he gave her begged to argue, but maybe he didn't have the strength. After all that he had been through, he was tired, bone tired, although she doubted he would be willing to admit that, even to her.
"You're a good man, Lucan. You've got a very noble heart underneath all that heavy armor."
He grunted, dismissive and sardonic. "Only someone who's known me less than a few weeks would make the mistake of presuming that."
"Really? I can think of a few people here who would tell you the same thing. Including Conlan, if he were alive."
His brows went low, like a thundercloud. "What can you possibly know about that?"
"Danika told me what you did for him. The funeral rite. Bringing him topside as the sun came up. To honor him, you let yourself burn."
"Jesus Christ," he snapped, shooting to his feet. He started to pace in an agitated, halting track near the bed. His voice was coarse, a barely contained roar. "Honor had nothing to do with it. You want to know why I did that? It was guilt. The night of the bombing in the train station, I was supposed to be running that mission with Niko, not Conlan. But I couldn't get you out of my mind. I thought maybe if I had you - if I finally got inside you - it might satisfy my itch and I could move on, forget about you. So, that night I put Conlan on the job in my place. It would have been me in that tunnel, not Conlan. It should have been me."
"My God, Lucan. You're unbelievable, you know that?" She slammed her palms down on the table and let out a sharp, furious laugh. "Why can't you cut yourself some fucking slack?"
The uncontrolled outburst got his attention when nothing else had. He stopped pacing and stared at her. "You know why," he said, his tone level now. "You know, better than anyone else." He shook his head, mouth twisted with self-contempt. "Turns out Eva knew something about it, too."
