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Her fingers trembled shakily as she took the cloth from him and put it on her wound. It wasn't anything serious, but the fact that she had stumbled - Mira, as sure-footed a female as he'd ever seen and a combat-proven warrior besides - made a cold knot form in his gut. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," she replied quickly. Too quickly. And the blood bond told him another story. He registered fear and confusion running under the sting of her injury and the dull throb of her still-present headache. "Don't worry about me, Kellan. It's just a scratch."
He glanced at her face, at her eyes, which seemed to be looking past him, despite his effort to lock onto her gaze. Oh, Christ. He didn't want to acknowledge the thought that crept into his mind. He didn't want to consider the awful possibility.
"Mira . . ." He reached up to her face, up near her eyes.
Her gaze flicked a fraction but still didn't come to rest on him as he prayed it would. Her voice sounded so small. So heart-breakingly frightened. "What . . . what are you doing, Kellan?"
She didn't have any idea. He understood that without any doubt now.
But he had to know, had to see the truth of it for himself.
"Hold still," he told her gently. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Carefully he removed one of her contacts.
"Kellan, don't - " She sucked in a sharp breath and tried to avert her face from him, but he gingerly brought her back and removed the second lens. "Kellan . . . I didn't want you to know. I thought maybe if I rested for a while, I would get better."
"Oh, Mouse." He could hardly speak. The words tasted like ash on his tongue. "Oh, Jesus, baby . . . no."
Behind the lenses, her irises were no longer mirrorlike and clear.
They were milky white, opaque.
Her pupils stared straight ahead, minuscule pinpricks in the center of her sightless eyes.
Chapter Twenty
NATHAN ALREADY HAD ARIC CHASE ON THE LINE BY THE time Rafe and he left La Notte. "Any idea where your sister is tonight?"
"Carys? Yeah, she's with Jordana Gates at her apartment in Back Bay."
Nathan glanced at Rafe, who nodded in acknowledgment. "I know the place. Commonwealth, a block off the Public Garden."
"What's she done now?" Aric asked, then, more soberly: "She's not in any kind of trouble, is she?"
"That remains to be seen," Nathan replied, knowing it was not the most reassuring thing to tell the young female's twin brother, but, then again, he didn't have a lot of practice when it came to diplomacy. "I'll update you once I've spoken to her."
He cut the connection without further discussion and slid the comm unit back into the pocket of his black fatigues. Then he and Rafe hung the corner and picked up the pace as they sped for the Back Bay. No sense taking their vehicle when their Breed genetics would carry them across the city in no time on foot. And if Rune truly was keeping illicit company with Carys Chase, Nathan wanted to be damn sure about it, before he tore the cage-fighting bastard to shreds with his bare hands.
In mere minutes, he and Rafe closed in on the white limestone Victorian mansion at the address Aric had indicated. They flew up the marble steps to the polished black double doors and stormed inside the foyer, combat boots thudding like the march of an encroaching army in the sophisticated quiet of the place.
A graying middle-age human male in a rent-a-cop's uniform stood up from behind a long mahogany reception desk as the pair of Breed warriors cut through the lobby. When the portly guard started to sputter a protest at them, Nathan silenced him with a dark look sliced his way and a flash of fang. Wisely, the human put his ass immediately back in his chair and got busy studying his fingernails.
Nathan sent a mental command at the elevator off the lobby and the absent car started descending for him. "Stay down here," he told Rafe as the doors slid open. "You see Carys or Rune try to make an escape while I'm upstairs, you keep them here. You call me."
Rafe gave a nod of his blond head, the young warrior's eyes grim with purpose while Nathan stepped into the elevator and psychically blew past the lock on the button for the penthouse.
A few seconds later, the lift's doors opened and he found himself staring at a locked, black wrought-iron grate. On the other side of that elegant blockade was the lavish interior of Jordana Gates's apartment. Soaring twelve-foot ceilings, gleaming white marble floor, soft golden lighting everywhere he looked, bathing a warm, inviting glow over walls painted in tranquil shades of cream and white and palest blue.
As he stood there, behind the wall of fused black iron, a light, feminine voice he guessed must belong to Carys's friend reached his ears before he had a chance to see her. "Seamus, don't tell me I left my umbrella in the lobby again."
An ethereal, tall and willowy blonde sailed around a massive marble pillar in the vestibule. Dressed in a tailored, knee-length ivory skirt and a silky blouse the color of polished pewter, which, he noted with more interest than he liked, was unbuttoned to an enticing spot between her breasts, she came to an abrupt stop on her delicate, high-heeled sandals. The tumble of thick, platinum waves cascading down to the backs of her thighs sifted around her as she froze in place and stared at him. She was . . . stunning.
"Oh," she said, just now realizing she wasn't talking to the guard from downstairs. Big, expressive eyes, in an electric shade of blue that seemed almost unreal it was so intense, met his unsmiling gaze from behind the black scrollwork of the grate.
"Carys Chase," Nathan announced firmly.
