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"Holding her?" Cassian's smile stretched wider. "My guess would be he's holding her quite close."
Nathan squeezed, taking uncharacteristically sadistic satisfaction in the man's answering sputter. As Cassian coughed and wheezed, his henchman and fighters advanced another few paces. Rafe moved with effortless speed, placing himself between Nathan and Cassian and the approaching guards.
"Tell me where to find Bowman," Nathan demanded coolly, "or I will kill you. Make no mistake. Your life is only worth the information you give me now. Where is Bowman keeping her?"
The club owner sucked in a restricted breath. "I can't tell you anything about the rebel leader or your MIA comrade. Pity you weren't here last night. You could've asked them yourself."
Nathan's blood went still in his veins. "What are you talking about?"
"They were here," Cassian said. "Both of them. Talking to Rune downstairs at his dressing room."
Son of a bitch.
Nathan slanted a stunned look at Rafe, who took off immediately for the back stairs. Nathan glared back at the man caught tight in his grasp. He let up only enough to permit Cassian to speak. "Was she all right? Did it look like he'd harmed her in any way?"
"Still had her sharp tongue and attitude intact, if that's what you mean."
"You spoke to her?" He didn't like the sense of confusion that roiled through him now. He was accustomed to cool logic, calm calculations. This revelation was the last thing he expected, and despite his keen mind, he struggled to make sense of all he was hearing. "What did she say to you? Did you speak to Bowman too?"
Rafe came up from the floor below, shaking his head. "No sign of Rune down there."
"No," Cassian said, his tone unfazed, conversational. "Rune took the night off."
"Where?" Nathan demanded.
Cassian chuckled, the black stud at the end of his tongue gleaming as he spoke. "Find the daywalker and I reckon you'll find Rune."
Although Nathan was taken aback, it was Rafe who spoke first. "What the fuck? You mean Aric Chase?"
"No," Cassian replied. "The other one. The female. Hot young thing that's been slumming around my club for the past few weeks. Find her, and I guarantee you, Rune won't be far."
They made the long drive to his grandfather's old Darkhaven in northern Maine earlier that afternoon.
Halfway there, Mira had come down with a vicious headache. She had assured Kellan she was fine, but he'd felt the blast of pain in her skull through their bond. He could feel it still, while she slept in the large master suite of the Darkhaven. Her discomfort was less now that she was sleeping, but the fact that she'd been hurting at all - especially after tapping into her Sight for how long, he could only guess - disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.
At least she'd found some peace once they arrived in Maine. Her exhaustion had taken her down more than two hours ago, and when Kellan had gone in to check a few minutes ago, she hadn't even stirred when he sat down next to her on the bed.
As for his crew, they'd quickly adapted to the relocation. After getting Candice settled and tending to her wound, Doc and Nina had gone to work sweeping out the whole place, dusting off the old furniture and appliances that hadn't been used in years, and restocking the pantry and weapons cache with supplies brought with them from the New Bedford bunker.
The Darkhaven was a huge step up from the primitive amenities of their previous base, with a kitchen full of top-grade appliances, a fully functioning refrigerator and range, room after room of comfortable furnishings, and nearly ten thousand square feet of living space. But their stay could only be temporary. Just a safe haven to hold them for a short while, until Kellan had the chance to confront the storm closing in on him from all sides.
On that score, he only hoped his instinct was good.
He prayed it was, or he had likely risked all their lives doing what he had today.
Standing at the French doors that overlooked the thick woods outside the big house, Kellan didn't even hear Nina approach from behind him until she quietly cleared her throat. He turned, frowning at the small white bottle she held out to him.
"Migraine meds," she said, giving the container a little shake. "I've only got a few left, but you can have them if you think they might help . . . your friend."
He nodded, took them from her outstretched hand, and slipped the bottle into his pocket. "Thank you."
The three of them - Nina, Candice, and Doc - were all gathered in the great room with him. They'd been watching him pace for a while, and now he realized just how uncomfortable was the pall of silence that hung over the group. Part of that silence had to do with the events of the past twenty-four hours - the lab explosion that had made global headlines and the resulting public unrest that followed; the somber good-bye they'd given Chaz; now this, the sudden flight to a place they'd never even known existed.
And part of his crew's unease had to do with the female warrior from the Order, who was quite obviously something more to him than just a captive being held against her will.
He looked at their faces now and saw their confusion, their wary uncertainty about who he truly was and what Mira meant to him.
It bothered him, those uneasy stares.
