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The staccato rap on the door went ignored for a couple of seconds, but then Lucan's deep voice sounded on the other side. There was a tense edge to the warrior's tone. How we doing in here?
Come in, Lucan, Elise called to the Order's leader--after what they went through together today, her dear, trusted friend.
She got up from Tegan's body despite his groan of protest and walked over to meet Lucan as he came inside. He was cleaned up and healing, but it would take some time before his body was completely restored. He gave Tegan a weary smile as Tegan swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up.
What is it? Tegan asked, snapping back into warrior mode despite the fact that he'd been leveled for the past few hours. What's happened?
Lucan didn't mince words. Dante and the others just called in from Prague. They found the crypt up in the mountains, just like Kassia's clues said they would. It was all there, T. A cave carved into the rock, a hibernation chamber full of dermaglyphic symbols and the bones of the humans Dragos fed his father in preparation of his long sleep.
But, Tegan prompted, pulling Elise toward him like he wanted something firm to hold on to.
But it was empty. Lucan shook his head, ran his hand through his dark hair. The goddamn crypt had already been opened. Someone freed the bastard. We can only guess how long ago, but it appears to have been years. Decades, even.
Then...he's out there somewhere? Elise asked, dreading confirmation of that terrible fact. What are we going to do?
We start looking, Tegan said. Christ, assuming the Ancient is alive, he could be anywhere. A needle in a haystack.
Lucan nodded. And we're going to need all the resources we can get. Rest up, both of you. We won't be heading back to Boston until the others return from Prague tonight.
With that, Lucan turned and started for the door. Halfway there, he paused. He came back to Tegan's bedside, his expression serious. From the beginning, Tegan, you were more brother to me than any kin by blood. You still are. Tegan felt likewise, in spite of all they'd been through. Maybe because of it. I'll always have your back, Lucan. You can count on it.
Lucan held out his hand to him. As the two warriors clasped their palms together, Tegan felt the warmth of friendship--of brotherhood-- flowing between them. It surprised him, how welcome that affection actually was to him. And how much he'd missed it.
Lucan nodded. The powerful Gen One vampire's eyes warmed with unmistakable respect as he turned to Elise.
The Order is in your debt, he told her, now holding his hand out to her. For what you did to bring us Dragos's secret, and for what you did here today for Tegan and me...I am personally in your debt. Thank you, Elise.
She gave a little shake of her head as she placed her fingers in his broad palm. No thanks are necessary. I'm happy to do whatever I can to help the Order. And Tegan.
Lucan smiled as he carried her hand to his lips. His kiss of gratitude was chaste and sincere, but it still made Tegan growl a little.
You are well mated, he said, that sage look shifting to Tegan.>Dante stepped on something that crunched beneath his boot.
His eyes were keenest in the dark, and what he saw made the blood drain from his head.
Holy hell.
They'd found Dragos's secret. No doubt about it. Dante was standing in the middle of the Ancient's hibernation chamber, a crypt carved into the side of a mountain, just like Kassia's tapestry had said it would be.
Dante didn't recall speaking--hell, he wasn't even sure he was drawing breath in that moment--but within moments he was joined by his brethren.
Jesus Christ, one of them murmured, hardly audible.
Rio's whispered prayer in Spanish spoke for everyone: God help us all.
Tegan lifted his head, turning a fleeting, uncertain gaze up to the broken skylights above their heads.
Fuck. He didn't dare look long. Even dawn's early, filtered wash of light was like acid pouring over his retinas. Lucan was feeling the effects too. He took a hit in the thigh, the remaining Minion's shot driving him down to the floor. As a Gen One vampire, he could absorb more damage than others of their race, and he had, his body expelling the rounds he hadn't been able to dodge, the wounds bleeding but already beginning to heal over.
But he was under the open ceiling now, and thin tendrils of smoke began to rise up off his exposed skin. He bellowed, transforming in his rage. His lips peeled back as his fangs ripped out of his gums and his eyes went bright amber.
The Minion started to retreat now, realizing what he was up against. Lucan rolled out of the light and pulled the trigger of his 9mm. A single shot rang out. The Minion dropped, but he wasn't dead yet. Lucan squeezed off another round, finishing the bastard.
Then, silence.
The hollow click of an empty cartridge.
At the same time, Tegan's own Gen One abilities were slowly coming back to life. But he couldn't yet physically break the bonds that held him. He wasn't at all sure he should. The Crimson he'd been made to ingest was thrumming through every cell in his body, corrupting him like the poison it was.
