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More than one head turned with surprise in her direction. If any of the Order's women thought it strange that she was including herself in their efforts to locate the missing Breedmates, none of them said a word about it.
Savannah's gaze lingered on her the longest, a look of gratitude--of friendship and acceptance--shining in her gentle eyes.
It was that easy acceptance, that sense of kindness and community she'd felt from each of these special women from the first day she awoke, that put a knot of emotion in Jenna's throat now. It overwhelmed her, nearly choking her up to feel even for a second that she could be part of something as tight knit and comfortable as the extraordinary extended family that lived and worked in this place.
"All right. Let's get to work," Dylan said after a moment. "There's a lot to be done."
One by one, they all went back to their tasks, some reviewing open file folders, others taking up positions in front of the war room's many computer workstations. Jenna drifted over to one of the unused PCs and fired up an Internet browser.
She had almost forgotten her message to her friend in the FBI pision Office in Anchorage, but as soon as she accessed the email site, she saw the reply waiting in her in box. She clicked the message and quickly scanned what it said.
"Uh, you guys," she said, feeling a little jolt of excitement and triumph as she read her friend's reply. "You know how you've been trying to get some intel on TerraGlobal Partners?"
"Dragos's corporate front," Dylan said, already coming over to see what Jenna had.
Alex and the other women were close behind her. "What's going on, Jen?"
"We're not the only ones interested in TerraGlobal." Jenna glanced up at the eager faces gathered around her. "An old buddy of mine in Anchorage ran a basic inquiry for me. He got a hit."
Savannah blew out a disbelieving laugh as she read the email message displayed on the monitor. "The FBI has an open investigation on TerraGlobal?"
"According to my friend, it's a relatively new one. It's being headed up by someone in their New York office."
Gabrielle gave Jenna an approving smile. "Nice work. We'd better go inform Lucan of what you've found."
The evening was only half over, but already he considered it a triumphant success.
In the dark of his private helicopter, Dragos smiled with deep satisfaction as his pilot guided the sleek aircraft away from the twinkling winter landscape of the busy capital city below and out over the dark water of the Atlantic, heading north, toward the second of his scheduled appearances tonight. He could hardly wait to arrive, anticipation for still another victory making his blood run faster in his veins.
For some time now, he had been cultivating his most useful allies, gathering his assets in preparation for the war he intended to wage, not only against his own kind--complacent, impotent cowards who deserved to be trampled under his boot--but also against the world at large.
Tonight's private receptions were crucial to his goals, and only the beginning of what would be a staggering offensive strike that he was preparing to deliver on both the Breed and humankind alike. If the Order feared that his grasp extended dangerously deep into the power brokers of the vampire race alone, they were in for a very rude awakening. And soon.
Very soon, he thought, chuckling to himself with eager glee.
"How long before we touch down in Manhattan?" he asked his Minion pilot.
"Fifty-two minutes, Master. We are right on schedule."
Dragos grunted his approval and relaxed into his seat for the remainder of the flight. He might have been tempted to call the evening flawless, if not for one small aggravation that stuck stubbornly in his craw--a bit of annoying news that had reached him earlier in the day.
Evidently some lowly desk jockey working for the Feds in Alaska was sniffing around in his business affairs, making inquiries about TerraGlobal Partners. For that, he blamed the Order. No doubt, it wasn't every day that a mining company--fake or otherwise--went up in a hellish ball of flames, as his little operation in the Alaskan interior had done at the hands of Lucan's warriors.
Now Dragos had the added irritation of having to contend with some public servant gas bag or environmental do-gooder trying to advance a career by going after a villainous corporation for God knew what offense.
Let them dig, he thought, smugly secure that he was free from any potential fallout. There were enough layers between himself and TerraGlobal to keep him insulated from nosy human law enforcement or interfering backwoods politicians. Failing that, he had assets in place who would ensure that his interests were protected. And, in the grander scheme, it didn't matter.
He was untouchable, more so every day.
Before long, he would be unstoppable.
That knowledge kept the edge out of his voice when his cell phone rang with a call from one of his key lieutenants. "Tell me where the operation stands."
"Everything is in order, sire. My men are embedded in positions as we discussed and ready to move forward with the plan for tomorrow at sundown."
"Excellent," Dragos replied. "Inform me when it is done."
"Of course, sire."
