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Dante could not contain his scoff of incredulity. "We've never needed them. We've been pulling their nancy assess out of fires for centuries, Lucan. Don't tell me we're going to start kissing up to them now. Fuck that, man! If we let them into our business, next thing you know, we'll have to ask their permission to take a piss."

He'd gone too far. Lucan said nothing, but a glance to the other warriors and then the door sent all but Dante out of the room. Dante stared at the white marble floor beneath his sodden boots, getting the sense that he'd just stepped into a pit of misery.

No one lost control in front of Lucan.

He was the leader of the Order, had been since the initial formation of the elite cadre of warriors nearly seven hundred years ago, long before Dante or most of the other current members had been born. Lucan was first-generation Breed, his blood flowing with the genes of the Ancients, those vicious otherworlders who came to this planet millennia past, bred with human females, and started the first line of the vampire race. Gen Ones like Lucan were few now and remained the most powerful--and most volatile--of all the Breed.

He was Dante's mentor, a true friend, if Dante could be so bold as to claim the formidable warrior as such.

But that didn't mean Lucan wouldn't tear a hole in him if he felt Dante needed it.

"I could give a shit for Darkhaven PR, same as you," Lucan said, the cadence of his deep voice measured and cool. "But the news of this drug disturbs me. We need to find out who's sourcing it and sever that chain. It's too important to leave it to Darkhaven involvement. If keeping a lid on this operation for the time being so that we can get the situation under control, on our terms, means letting Agent Chase play warrior for a few nights, then that's the price we have to pay."

When Dante opened his mouth to voice a further argument against the idea, Lucan arched a black brow and cut him off before he could get the first word out.

"I've decided that you will be the one to pair up with Agent Chase on patrol."

Dante bit his tongue, knowing Lucan would abide no argument in this now.

"I choose you because you're the best one for the job, Dante. Tegan would probably kill the agent outright, just because he annoyed him. And Niko, while a capable warrior, does not have your years of experience on the street. Keep the Darkhaven agent out of trouble, but don't lose sight of the true goal: exterminating our enemies. I know you won't let me down. You never have. I'll contact Chase and let him know that his tour begins tomorrow night."

Dante gave a low nod of acceptance, not trusting himself to speak when outrage was pouring through his veins. Lucan clapped him on the shoulder as if to say he understood Dante's simmering anger, then headed out of the lab. Dante could only stand there for a moment, his jaw clamped so tight his molars burned with the pressure.

Had he really walked into the compound thinking that this night couldn't get any worse?

Holy hell, had he been wrong about that.

After everything he'd been through the past twelve hours, culminating with this unwanted babysitting assignment, he was going to have to seriously recalibrate his idea of Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.

Chapter Seven

"Here you go, Mrs. Corelli." Tess lifted a plastic cat carrier over the reception counter, passing the growling, hissing white Persian back to its owner. "Angel's not too happy right now, but he should be feeling back up to snuff in a couple of days. I wouldn't let him outside until the sutures have dissolved, though. Not that he's going to be feeling like much of a Romeo anymore."

The elderly woman clucked her tongue. "For months now, all up and down my street, what do I see? Little Angels running around. I tell you, I had no idea! And my poor smoochie-puss, coming home every night looking like a prizefighter, that pretty face of his torn up and bloody."

"Well, he won't have a lot of interest in fighting anymore. Or in his other apparent pastime. You've done the right thing by having him neutered, Mrs. Corelli."

"My husband would like to know if you'd do the same for our granddaughter's current boyfriend. Ay, but that boy is a wild one. Nothing but trouble and he's only fifteen!"

Tess laughed. "My practice is limited to animals, I'm afraid."

"More's the pity. Now, what do I owe you, dear?"

Tess watched the elderly woman dig out her checkbook with chapped, arthritic hands. Even though she was well past retirement age, Mrs. Corelli cleaned houses five days a week, Tess knew. It was hard work, and the wages were meager, but since her husband's disability pay had dried up a few years ago, Mrs. Corelli had become the sole provider for her household. Whenever Tess felt tempted to sulk because she was strapped and struggling, she thought about this woman and how she soldiered on with dignity and grace.

"We're actually running a special on services right now, Mrs. Corelli. So your grand total for today is twenty dollars."

"Are you sure, dear?" At Tess's insistent nod, the woman paid the clinic fee, then tucked the pet carrier under her arm and headed for the exit. "Thank you, Doctor Tess."

"You're very welcome."

As the door closed behind her client, Tess glanced to the clock on the waiting-room wall. Just after four. The day had seemed to drag on endlessly, no doubt due to the strange night she'd had. She had considered canceling her appointments and staying home, but she'd marshaled herself and worked the full day. One more appointment, and then she could get out of here.

Although why she was so eager to race home to her empty apartment, she had no idea. She felt edgy and exhausted at the same time, her entire system buzzing with an odd kind of disquiet.

"You have a message from Ben," Nora announced as she came out of one of the dog-grooming rooms. "It's on a sticky note by the phone. Something about a fancy art thing tomorrow night? He said you mentioned you'd go with him a few weeks ago, but he wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten."

"Oh, shit. The MFA dinner exhibit is tomorrow night?"

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