AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Keep on it," Lucan told him. "We've got our hands full enough without having to worry about civilians getting caught in the crossfire."
As for the Enforcement Agency, it had virtually disintegrated overnight. Communications had gone dark. Dragos's hidden network of followers - including two known Agency directors, one in Seattle, another in Europe - had come out from the shadows to openly proclaim their allegiance to him and his goals. Countless other Agency personnel had defected too, either to place their bets on Dragos or to withdraw from service altogether and focus on seeing their families through this dark time.
Lucan's heart was several hours north, with Gabrielle. He worried for her and the rest of the Breedmates and the children, alone with Gideon through all of this unrest and chaos. He had no doubt that Gideon would keep them safe, but it killed Lucan to be away from his mate when her deep anxiety rode him like spurs. All of the warriors were sober today, contemplative.
Especially Chase.
Lucan felt for him probably the most right now. The warrior stood alone at the back of the room, stoic and controlled, a marked change from the male who'd been so volatile in recent months. Reckless and insubordinate. A liability to his patrol partners and himself.
There was little left of that Chase in the cool, capable warrior who'd fought side by side with him last night, despite all the blood that was spilled. It had been a testing, taxing night for all of them, but Chase in particular. Yet he'd stood strong. He hadn't broken. Nor would he, Lucan guessed, meeting the warrior's clear, focused gaze across the room now.
Chase's eyes were steady, filled with a steely determination.
A single-minded, unflinching purpose that gave Lucan a glimpse of the leader Sterling Chase had been born to be. The leader he could be again one day in the future, if any of them survived to see that future arrive.
Lucan inclined his head, an approving nod that said more than he could have managed with any amount of words.
Chase nodded back, sober, understanding.
Lucan was proud to have Harvard on the Order's side again. Proud to be able to call Sterling Chase his brother and his friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
JENNA HUNG UP THE PHONE and leaned back in her chair. Even though her heart was banging with adrenaline over the news she'd just heard, a heavy weariness settled over her like lead anvils perched on her shoulders.
"How's Claire hanging in down there in Newport?" Gideon asked, looking over from his continued experiments on the UV collars across the room from her in the tech lab.
"She's all right. She's safe, and things are quiet for now."
While the rest of the compound was glued to television reports of the Rogue attacks, Jenna and Gideon had thrown themselves into their work. After the inadvertent detonation of the other collar, he had chased down the programmical key to all of the collar activation sequences. Gideon had even managed to get one of the collars in his collection to show up on a GPS map, which had him very excited. It helped, having something to do besides wait for word, and then wait some more.
Jenna rubbed at the ache in her glyph-marked neck, a product of too many hours without sleep and too much worry about Brock and rest of the Order. Worry for the entire world, in fact. Nothing else seemed important at all in light of the events of the past twenty-four hours. At least everyone she cared for was safe and accounted for. "Lucan and Mathias Rowan sent a pair of Agents down to Newport to guard the Darkhaven while Reichen is overseas. Claire says she's in good hands."
Gideon nodded. "Glad to hear it. I gather she was able to do some digging into the question of her parents' deaths before all hell broke loose last night?"
"Yeah," Jenna replied. "That's why she called, actually, aside from letting us know she's okay. Claire contacted the relief organization her mom worked for back in the fifties and they looked up information about the rebel raid on the village. It turns out several people were killed that day, three from the relief organization and four more from the village."
"Claire's father being one of them?" When she shrugged, Gideon set down the broken ring of black polymer he'd been working on. With lowered brows, he regarded her over the rims of small, pale blue sunglasses perched on the end of his nose. "Claire's father wasn't killed?" "No one seems able to say for sure. According to accounts at the time from the villagers who witnessed the raid, he was shot multiple times. Mortally wounded, the same as Claire's mother and the others."
"But?" Gideon prompted, scowling now.
"But there's no record of his body being recovered."
"Holy shit."
"Yeah." Jenna shook her head, still a bit numbed by the idea. "He was declared dead like the rest of the victims and simply ceased to exist from that day forward. For all anyone knows, he could have gotten up and walked away."
"Not if he was mortal," Gideon replied, his eyes serious, devoid of doubt.
"Right." This news from Claire had only added to Jenna's certainty that she was on the right track. If it weren't for Dylan's steadfast insistence that her father was just an average, human, run-of-the-mill asshole, all the question marks on Jenna's theory would be eliminated.
"Jen?" As if conjured by thought alone, Dylan now stood in the open doorway of the tech lab. She looked shell-shocked and pale. In her hand was a yellowed square of paper.
"Hey," Jenna said, getting up to meet her. Dylan looked so stricken and upset, Jenna pulled her into a tight hug. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
The Breedmate's eyes were searching, a little lost. "With everything that's going on, I guess I was feeling kind of homesick today. I started missing my mom. After she died last year, I took a small box of mementos from her apartment. I hadn't looked through all of it, just enough to see that it contained some letters and postcards, souvenirs from her travels. Silly things, really. She was sentimental, had the most open, loving heart I've ever known."
Jenna brought Dylan inside and guided her to the empty desk chair. "Tell me what this is about."
