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“Yes,” he agreed. “But what’s to say you didn’t have a target on your back long before then? If not simply because you were part of JUSTIS, then for being kin to one of the Order’s key commanders?”

“Jesus Christ.” The curse came from Sterling Chase. The Boston commander’s grave stare moved from Tavia to her sister. “We thought we were keeping your connection to each other confidential, but what if someone in Opus knows?”

Some of Brynne’s outrage drained from her face as she considered the possibility.

“You’re safe now,” Zael told her. “That’s the important thing.”

She blinked and glanced away from him, refusing to look up again.

Since his presence wasn’t helping the situation, he decided to make things easier for her—and for the people trying to reason with her.

“I’m sure there are many things the Order needs to discuss,” he said, already taking a step toward the door. “If you have no further need of me now, I think it’s time I take my leave.”

Lucan cleared his throat. “Not so fast, Zael. Yes, there are things that need to be discussed—including recent developments concerning your people and their queen.”



CHAPTER 7


After the Order drew Zael into a closed-door meeting in the conference room, Tavia brought Brynne to meet Lucan’s Breedmate in the residence section of the sprawling D.C. estate.

“We’ve got an unusually full house at the moment,” Gabrielle Thorne said as the regal, auburn-haired Breedmate led Tavia and Brynne down an elegant third-floor hallway in the Order’s massive headquarters. “This wing doesn’t get a lot of use these days. The entire third floor was reserved for visiting foreign dignitaries back when the old house was used as an embassy.”

Old house? The place was palatial. Brynne had seen royal residences in England that were less impressive. Intricately tooled millwork lined the ivory walls of the passage and richly colored, thick Persian rugs covered the gleaming dark wood floors. Following her two companions toward the middle of the long corridor, Brynne couldn’t help but admire the many carved busts and neoclassical sculptures that stood on polished pedestals along the way, or the antique photographs of significant landmarks and natural wonders that competed with paintings by master artists on the silk-covered walls.

Her stroll ended in front of the open doors of a sumptuous library that smelled wonderfully of aged leather book bindings and lemon-waxed, old wood. At another time, under different circumstances, she could see herself getting lost among all of those books for days on end.

“I’m sorry you’re going to the trouble to make room for me. I imagine you’ve both got more important things to do, this week especially.”

Gabrielle turned a genuinely warm smile on her. “It’s no trouble at all. Even if you weren’t Tavia’s sister, after all you did for us the other night, you’re part of the Order’s family, Brynne.”

Tavia nodded in agreement. “I know you’d rather be in your own place, but I hope you’ll be comfortable here for now.”

As she spoke, Gabrielle turned to open a door directly across from the library. The room inside was large, but cozy, with a small sitting area on one side and a four-poster bed on the other. The drapes on the tall window had been drawn to let in the morning light and the view of the manicured grounds below. On a bureau near the opened door, a vase of fresh-cut flowers perfumed the air.

“The room is lovely,” Brynne said as she stepped inside. “Thank you both.”

“Make yourself at home,” Gabrielle told her. “That goes for the entire estate. And you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“Or as long as my sister and the Order insist?”

Tavia exhaled a short sigh. “It’s not meant to be a punishment, you know. We’re only concerned for your well-being.”

Brynne knew it wasn’t. She waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s all right. I understand. I even agree that London may not be the best choice for me right now. I guess you might say I’m a bit hard-headed, especially when it comes to being told what I can or cannot do.”

Tavia and Gabrielle exchanged an amused look.

“I think you’ve definitely found your tribe,” Gabrielle said around a laugh.

“What about Zael?” The question popped out of her mouth before she could even think to hold it back.

“What about him?” Tavia asked. A spark of curiosity lit her questioning gaze. “And why do I get the impression there is something more going on between you two than either of you is willing to say?”

“There’s absolutely nothing going on between us.”

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