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Tavia drew in a surprised breath. “You mean—”

Nova’s cheeks flooded with color. Mathias beamed like a son of a bitch and pulled his expectant Breedmate closer. “We’ve only known for a few days.”

“Oh, my God,” Tavia exclaimed. “We’re elated for you!”

Nova’s blush deepened as she murmured her shy thanks.

Mathias looked at Chase. “We’d like you and Tavia to be godparents. That’s why we wanted to stop in to see you before we headed on to D.C. to meet with Lucan.”

“It would be an honor,” Chase said, humbled by the gesture of trust and friendship. He rose to take Mathias’s hand, then decided the occasion merited more than the stiff gestures of his upbringing. He clasped the other male in a brief embrace. “You honor us well, my old friend.”

Tavia went to Nova and hugged her too, delight shining in her eyes. “A baby is the most wonderful news.”

Although Brynne’s smile was more reserved, her dark green gaze was warm as she reached out to grasp Nova’s tattooed hand. “Congratulations to you both.”

As they all resumed their seats, Tavia asked, “Have you told anyone else?”

“Only Eddie,” Nova said, referring to the nine-year-old human boy who’d worked in the tattoo shop with her when Mathias had first met her. The couple had taken Eddie in when they mated, and the boy now lived in the London command center with them.

There was a time when no human would have been permitted inside a Breed household. A lot had changed in the twenty years since First Dawn had brought the human and vampire worlds together.

Chase met Mathias’s gaze. “How’s the boy adjusting to life among the Breed?”

“Very well, actually. Thane and the other warriors have practically adopted him along with Nova and me. If they have their way, they’ll probably turn him into an honorary Order member in a few years.”

Nova tilted her head. “Not if I have anything to say about that.”

Mathias shrugged, chuckling as he stroked his Breedmate’s right hand.

Chase couldn’t help but notice the Egyptian eye symbol on the back of Nova’s hand. He’d been told that beneath that mark was another one—a black scarab forced on her when she’d been just a little girl, branding her as the property of Fineas Riordan, her adoptive father.

The Order was currently conspiring to take the bastard out for his apparent affiliation with Opus Nostrum.

Mathias seemed to follow Chase’s line of thought. His face turned grave as he met Chase’s look across the room. He wanted to discuss Order business, but there was a question in his eyes—one that Chase caught on to with the subtle flick of Mathias’s gaze toward Brynne.

She caught the glance too. “I should allow you all to speak privately. I’m sure you have much to catch up on.”

Tavia frowned when Brynne started to rise. “You’re not here on official JUSTIS business, Brynne. You’re my sister. I trust you the same as I would trust anyone else in this house.”

Chase nodded, completely comfortable in Brynne’s integrity and discretion. In fact, since he’d come to know Tavia’s sister, he considered her an ally the Order would be fortunate to call their own. “There’s no need for you to leave. Your word to treat anything you hear as confidential is guarantee enough for me.”

Brynne nodded. “Of course, you have my word.”

Mathias acknowledged her promise as well. “Lucan has told me to prepare my team to be called in to move on Riordan at a moment’s notice,” he told Chase. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that taking down that bastard and everyone loyal to him will be my personal pleasure.”

Chase grunted. “We all feel the same way. But we have to make sure every piece of intel is in place first. There can be no room for error. If we move too hastily, or miss the mark in taking Riordan out, we could drive the other Opus members to ground. The Order needs to unmask every last one of them first, if we have any hope of obliterating the organization.”

Brynne seemed twitchy at the mention of Opus’s other members. She started to say something, then stopped.

“What is it?” Chase demanded.

When she frowned and shook her head, Tavia held her pensive look. “Tell us what you’re thinking, Brynne. We’re trusting you, so you have to trust us now too.”

“I don’t have any actual proof, but . . .” She sighed and blew out a curse. “I’ve had a hunch for some time now. Nothing actionable. Nothing but a suspicion . . . about Neville Fielding.”

“The GNC director in London,” Chase murmured. “What kind of suspicion?”

Brynne tilted her head. “I have a feeling he’s on the take. It’s got to be someone with deep pockets, because a couple of weeks ago, Fielding moved into a pricey townhouse that’s way above his means.”

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