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The Gen One leader of the Order nodded gravely, understanding from a single exchanged look that the night was about to head south.
Way south, Tegan thought. He held the curious journal under his arm, but ancient protocol made him hesitant to discuss potentially disturbing Order business in front of a female. It did not escape his notice that instead of getting up from the room or requesting privacy from Gabrielle, Lucan reached out to take her hand in his. The slight nod he gave her as she sat back down beside him was one of respect and solidarity.
The statement was clear: they were a unit, and while Lucan would walk through fire to protect her, the venerable warrior kept no secrets from her. No doubt the female would have it no other way.
It had been like that between the couple from the day she arrived at the compound as Lucan's mate. The same could be said of Gideon and Savannah, who were paired more than thirty years and an equally solid match. Dante and Tess were two halves of one whole as well, though they had only been together a few short months. Breedmates had their freedoms, even those bonded to members of the Order, but there wasn't a male among the entire vampire nation who would stand by and condone what Elise had been doing the past few months she'd been living topside. What she intended to keep on doing, even if it killed her.
Tell me what this is about, Lucan said, indicating for Tegan to come into the library chamber. Gideon said you phoned in that you were with an injured Darkhaven female.
Tegan arched a brow in acknowledgment. Elise Chase. No longer of the Darkhavens, as it turns out.
She left?
After the death of her son. She's been living in the city by herself.
Jesus. What happened to her tonight?
Tegan smirked, still disbelieving the woman's tenacity. She attracted some unwanted attention from the Rogues. They came gunning for her at her apartment.
He left out the fact that one of the bastards got to her before he could stop it. The thought still burned in him, self-directed anger seething beneath his cool veneer.
Gabrielle frowned. What would they want with Elise?
This. Tegan held the book out and Lucan took it, scowling as he touched the faded tooling on the aged cover, then flipped through some of the yellowed pages. It was waiting for overnight pickup by a Minion. Somebody was in a big rush to have it.
Lucan's look was grave. No question as to who the somebody was.
And the Darkhaven woman?
She intercepted it. Christ. What about Marek's human mule?
The Minion is dead, Tegan stated simply. Marek must have gotten wind of that fact and unleashed his hounds to retrieve the book. It would have been easy enough to track down Elise from the store's closed-circuit feed.
What is it, some kind of diary? Gabrielle asked, peering past Lucan at the fanning pages.
Appears to be, Tegan said. Apparently it belonged to a family named Odolf. You ever hear of them, Lucan?
The vampire shook his dark head as he ran through the journal again. Before Tegan could direct him to the disturbing symbol at the back of the text, Lucan flipped to the page himself. As soon as his eye lit upon the hand-drawn dermaglyphic marking, he muttered a curse. Holy hell. Is this what I think it is?
Tegan gave a grim nod. No doubt you recognize the pattern.
Dragos, Lucan said, a dark weight hanging on that one word.
Who is Dragos? Gabrielle asked, peering past Lucan at the glyph scrawled onto the page.
Dragos is a very old Breed name, Lucan explained. He was one of the original members of the Order--a first generation vampire. Like Tegan and me, Dragos was sired by one of the ancient creatures who began the vampire race as we know it. Dragos fought alongside us when the Order declared war on our alien fathers.
Gabrielle nodded, showing no surprise or confusion. Evidently Lucan had already filled her in on the otherworldly origins of the Breed, as well as the bloody war that arose within the Breed during the fourteenth century of the human era.
It was a tumultuous time, rife with treachery and violence--most of it carried out by the long- lived, savage creatures from a distant planet who prowled the night and fed without discretion, sometimes wiping out entire villages of humankind. The Ancients were ravenous and brutal, supremely powerful. Without the Order to intervene, they'd been a bloodthirsty pestilence that made even the worst Rogue look like a misbehaving frat boy.
Gabrielle's gaze went from Lucan to Tegan. What happened to Dragos?
Killed in battle a few years into the war with the Ancients, Tegan supplied.
Can you be sure of that? she asked. Until last summer, everyone believed that Marek was dead too...
Lucan gave a firm nod. Dragos is dead, love. I saw his body with my own eyes. None of the Breed can resurrect when their head is taken.
