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Chase looked at the display. Of the thirteen-digit placeholders on the screen, only six of them were locked into place: 5, 0, 5, 1, 1, N.
Tavia's mouth curved into a sly smile as she turned to look at Gideon. "May I try?" He held out his hand in invitation and let her take the seat in front of one of his computers. He typed something on the keyboard, and the machine beeped, popping up an "Access Denied" screen that prompted for a password. "Knock yourself out."
Tavia entered the six digits from the deencryption program, Chase and Gideon taking positions behind her to watch her work.
She typed another seven characters to complete the sequence: 1, 5, 2, 5, 1, 2, E. And just like that, she was in.
"It's the same password that opened Dr. Lewis's clinic records," she said, looking fairly pleased with herself.
Gideon slapped Chase on the back of his shoulder and let out a whoop. "Well, fuck us both, Harvard. She's bloody brilliant." He pivoted away suddenly and grabbed a notepad and pen from his workspace. He handed both to Tavia. "Jot that whole thing down for me again."
She did, and when she passed it back to him, he hissed out a slow curse. "Bugger. I might have guessed it would be something like this." He brought up a browser and typed the sequence into a search engine map. "It's GPS coordinates."
Chase watched as the screen displayed a close-up of an area he immediately recognized. "It's a mountain region in the Czech Republic. Isn't that the area where we found the cave the Ancient had been hibernating in before Dragos woke him and imprisoned him in his lab?">She stared at him, trying to make sense of what she'd just witnessed. In the end all she could manage was a trembling couple of words. "Holy shit."
LUCAN PACED the confines of his bedroom, edgy and restless, despite the physical satisfaction of his body. It was early morning outside the temporary compound's sheltering walls and shuttered windows. Christmas, for fuck's sake.
He didn't feel like celebrating. He felt like strapping on weapons and combat gear and taking this damned war straight into Dragos's face. He wanted it ended, preferably with Dragos under his boot heel, bleeding and broken, begging for mercy he would never receive. He wanted that with a ferocity he could barely contain.
All the more so when he considered the promise he'd given Gabrielle in the hours they'd lain together, making love in the bed where she slept now, as sweet and lovely as a dream. At the next crescent moon cycle, Lucan would give her a son.
As much as he'd been fighting the idea, there was a part of him that had wanted it as much as she did. Maybe more. For nine long centuries, he'd walked alone by his own choosing. He'd had his warrior brethren, but family - a Breedmate and children - was nothing he'd ever craved. Until an auburn-haired beauty with melting brown eyes and the fearless heart of a lioness had strode into his world and laid all his intentions to waste in an instant.
He'd never imagined he could love so fully, so completely. His dread of an unknown future was hardly a match for his devotion to the incredible female who'd taken him as her mate. And as Tegan said, knowing the world they were fighting for belonged to their sons only made his determination burn all the brighter to see it thrive in peace.
Lucan walked back to the bed and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. The brief brush of his lips made her stir, then smile, still caught in a light slumber. "Good morning," he murmured softly. "Sleep, love. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm heading down to the tech lab for a while to review some of the intel that came in from New Orleans."
"It's a holiday," she reminded him, her voice thick and drowsy. Far too inviting, as she stretched with feline grace and rolled onto her back to face him. "Come back to bed?"
God, he was tempted. "I'll only be a couple of hours. I want to put in some time while the rest of the house is asleep. You rest, and I'll come back before too long."
Her answering moan was languid and breathless. It made him want to crawl under the covers and make her do it again. Preferably as she climaxed against his mouth.
He stepped away from the bed and pulled on a fresh black T-shirt and fatigues. Gabrielle was already fast asleep once more, her breath puffing softly between her parted lips. He smiled, content simply to look at her.
Christ, he had it bad for her.
And he wouldn't want it any other way.
He was still smiling like a love-struck fool as he walked out to the corridor and silently closed the bedroom door behind him. Another door opened down the way and Mira came sneaking out on her toes, her pink nightgown swishing around her ankles as she hurried up the hall.
Her flaxen hair was a wild tangle on her bed-rumpled head, her eyes half-closed and bleary with sleep. She ran headlong, practically blind with purpose as she crashed right into him. "Oh!" she gasped as he caught her in both hands and kept her from bouncing off her feet. "I thought I heard Santa out here."
"Not Santa." Lucan chuckled and stooped down to her level. "Just ... me ..."
As he brushed the tousled mop of hair from her face, Mira's eyes met his. He'd been expecting to see the opaque violet of her custom-made contact lenses. Lenses that had been specially crafted to mute the young Breedmate's talent for prognostication. Instead, Lucan found himself staring into the clear, mirrorlike pools of the child seer's powerful gaze.
A vision slammed into his brain like a bullet.
Blood-soaked.
Horrific.
"Oh, no!" Mira cried. She realized her mistake at once, bringing her hands up to shield him from the power of her eyes. "My lenses. I forgot to put them in. Lucan, I'm sorry!"
"Shh," Lucan soothed as she burst into tears. He pulled her close, offering a comforting embrace as the little girl sobbed with remorse. "It's all right, Mira. You did nothing wrong." She drew back, careful now to hold her arm up over her eyes. "What did you see, Lucan? Was it something bad?"
"No," he lied. "It was nothing. Don't you worry, everything's all right."
