Ashes of Midnight
Page 7

The loss had hit the warriors pretty hard, and not just for the fact that Reichen had been an instrumental partner in the Order's current efforts to take out Dragos. He was a good man, an honorable male who should have lived to see the peace that his efforts with the Order were helping to ensure. Tegan's tone was as grave as his expression. "Gideon got a report out of Hamburg today. Seems another Darkhaven over there went up in flames last night. Complete annihilation." "Good lord," Gabrielle whispered, clutching Lucan's hand a bit tighter. "Were there any survivors?" "Just one," Tegan said. "An Enforcement Agent doing security detail there who managed to escape and report the attack. He died a few hours later." "You said `attack'?" Lucan frowned, not liking the sound of that at all. "What exactly do we know about this?" "Not much right now.
Gideon's still gathering intel, but the Agency is keeping a lot of it close to their chest. The Darkhaven that went down last night belonged to one of their directors. Second-generation civilian named Wilhelm Roth. Apparently, the director and his Breedmate were both out of town at the time, lucky for them." Lucan didn't know Roth, but then he and the rest of the Order weren't exactly on friendly terms with most of the Enforcement Agency, either here in the States or abroad. The Order tended to think the Agency was a lot of pompous blowhards more interested in their own personal gain than public safety, and the Agency tended to think the Order was a gang of dangerous vigilantes with no regard for the law. Partly true, Lucan had to acknowledge. Neither he nor any of his brethren had any use for the kind of circle-jerk politics and head-in-the-sand policies that were the Agency's notion of the law. As a result, they generally disregarded them in favor of actually taking action and getting shit done. If that didn't sit well with folks like Wilhelm Roth and the rest of the Enforcement Agency, they were more than welcome to kiss the Order's ass and step out of the way. "Let's see what Gideon's got," Lucan said, already heading with Gabrielle toward the tech lab down the corridor.
Tegan fell in at an easy gait beside them, and Lucan couldn't help thinking back to a time not that long ago when he and his fellow warrior--both of them Gen Ones with many centuries of life between them--had spent more time at each other's throats than walking side by side as equals. Now, as the two of them strode into the tech lab with Gabrielle, the other warriors gathered in what served as the Order's conference room all looked up from what they were doing, as if the air had somehow gotten thicker with the arrival of the two eldest, most powerful members of the group.
The three most recent additions to the Order's ranks--Kade, Brock, and Chase--were dressed in basic black patrol gear, from their lug-soled Docs and dark denim, to their black shirts, leather jackets, and arsenal of semiautomatics and blades that rode at their hips. The trio of unmated males had taken on a lot of the grunt assignments, a night of hunting trouble on Boston's back alleys topped off by hunting of a different sort at some of the city's after-hours clubs. As for the other, mated warriors, they did their share of heavy lifting for the Order, as well, but looking at them now--Rio seated beside his Breedmate, Dylan, and Dante, unable to keep from stroking the six-month swell of his Breedmate Tess's pregnant belly while he casually shot the shit with Chase and the others--it was clear that things were changing here at the compound. Evolving, Lucan thought, as Gabrielle let go of his hand to walk over and sit on the floor beside little Mira and Savannah, who was mated to the resident genius, Gideon.
Lucan's heart went a bit tight as he watched his Breedmate smile and fall into an easy chatter with the child and Savannah, who'd been passing a squeaky rubber ball between them, playing a game of keep-away with an ugly little terrier mutt that belonged to Dante and Tess. The whole scene was unnerving as hell. Somehow, in the past year and a half, the compound had begun to feel less like a military stronghold and more like a home. That gave Lucan more than a little concern. Homes could be made vulnerable, especially in times of war. He thought about the two Darkhavens in Germany that had been standing strong one day and were rubble the next. It was hard to shake the coldness that settled in his gut when he considered how easily lives--and loved ones--could cease to exist. "I can see by the look on your face that Tegan brought you up to speed on some of the news out of Hamburg," Gideon said, spinning away from his fleet of computer workstations and regarding Lucan soberly over the rims of his pale blue glasses. "Do you want to hear the really fucked up part of all this?"
"Why not," Lucan drawled. "I've been doing a little remote digging in the Agency records in Germany. Turns out they're having some problems keeping their guys alive over there." At Lucan's questioning look, Gideon went on. "Over the past several weeks, nine Enforcement Agents between the Berlin and Hamburg offices have been murdered." Tegan joined the conversation now, coming over to look at the data on Gideon's monitors. "You talking assassinations?" Lucan had been thinking the same thing, instantly wondering if the others like Hunter, trained Gen One killers who'd recently been ordered by Dragos to track down and assassinate the eldest members of the vampire race, had somehow now turned their sights on inpiduals within the Enforcement Agency. "It's not like any of the stuff we've been seeing among the civilian populations," Gideon said. "Those killings are careful--shit, they're practically works of art they're so efficient." He swung back around and typed something that brought up a morgue image of a bruised, bloodied Breed male who was missing part of his skull. "These Agency killings are brutal, very personal. One entire field unit was taken out man by man, and there've been some high-ranking agents--I'm talking director-level folks--who've been cut down, as well. Someone over there is trying to make a very loud statement. If you ask me, it reeks of payback."
Chapter Seven
Andreas hadn't come out of the library all day. Claire sat in the foyer outside the closed doors, having quietly taken up her post on a small upholstered bench a few minutes after he'd driven her from the room with his bellowed demand that she go. Her back ached from the uncomfortable seating and she was exhausted, having not dared to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. She didn't know what he was doing in there. She didn't even know if he was all right. There had been no answer when she knocked on the doors a couple of hours ago to check on him. Now she sat on the little bench with her feet drawn up on the cushion and her arms locked around her knees, staring at the silent room as if a wild, rabid animal waited inside. It was nearly sundown. It wouldn't be long before the Enforcement Agency detail that Wilhelm was going to arrange for showed up to remove Andreas. Claire knew she'd done the right thing in going to Wilhelm for help. She'd done the only thing she could, not only for her own imminent safety and that of her mate, but also for Andreas. The stark fear she'd felt for him last night had since muted into a wary kind of sympathy. He was so broken now. So raw with fury. She only hoped he would have the sense to go quietly with the Enforcement Agents when they arrived. If he put up a struggle... well, she couldn't even let her mind go there. The latch on the library doors gave a soft click. Claire looked up, let her legs unfold and her feet settle on the foyer floor as Andreas came out of the room. He seemed much improved physically and even though he sent a dark glower in her direction, he appeared calmer, more rested than when she'd left him in there.
Maybe there was hope that he could be reasoned with after all. "You're still here," he remarked, plainly displeased. "I'd have thought you'd be hours away by now." "No," Claire murmured. Andreas scoffed. "Roth must know of a number of Agency safe houses in the area where he could have sent you. I'm surprised you didn't bolt for one of them the first chance you got." Claire didn't tell him that Wilhelm had ordered her to stay at the country house. It had bothered her then, but now, being forced to hold Andreas's piercing gaze, she felt more than an inkling of shame to think that her mate would willingly keep her in harm's way. Of course, she had never presented herself as a hapless, helpless female, and Wilhelm wouldn't have expected her to remain in Andreas's company unless he trusted she could handle the situation. That rationalization felt a bit hollow when she recalled the caustic way he'd told her to do whatever she must to detain Andreas for the long hours until the agents were able to get there. You know him better than most. I'm sure you'll think of something. "It must be near dusk." Andreas's deep voice ran up her skin like a charge. "How long do you suppose it will take Roth to get here?" Claire blinked, then shook her head.
"I don't know what you mean." His answering smile was cold, unconvinced. "Are you really going to sit there and pretend that you didn't seek him out for help and to warn him about me?" When she would have attempted to deny it, his mouth went a little tighter. "Just so you know, Claire, I hope you did go to him. I hope you told him to come as fast as he could, because I'm damned well ready to end this." Her blood chilled. "Are you really so eager to die, Andre?" He scoffed. "I'm not the one you need to worry about." Amber sparks lit up his irises, and she could see the points of his sharp white fangs as he spoke, potent reminders that although his anger seemed to have banked, it wouldn't take much for it to ignite again. It might be safer to try to lie to him, but she felt she owed him some honesty regardless of the risks. "All right. I did go to Wilhelm. I dreamwalked to him while you were in the cellar, just as you guessed. But your misguided need for vengeance will have to wait because he's not coming." "You told him I was here?"
"Yes." Claire stood up as Andreas took a step closer to her on the bench. "He's my mate. I had to warn him." "You told him about the fires? About his Darkhaven in Hamburg?" At her nod, his eyes narrowed on her. He inched nearer, crowding her between his big body and the upholstered bench pressed tightly against the back of her legs. "Does he know that you are left alone with me, at my mercy?" Claire swallowed. "He knows all of that." And still he's not coming. Although Andreas didn't speak the words, they were written clearly enough on his face. Claire glanced away from him because it was suddenly too hard to hold his knowing stare. To her utter shock, she felt his fingers light gently beneath her chin. When she followed that guiding touch, lifting her eyes back up to him, there was nothing the least bit gentle in his expression. "Does he have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be alone with me like this, Claire?" He searched her face, his warm breath skating across her brow. He stood so close to her, she could feel his heartbeat pounding, the strong, steady drum of it doing something crazy to her own pulse, as well. An unbidden yearning kicked up inside her, hot and twisting. It took all her strength of will not to turn her cheek into his palm and nuzzle against the warm curve of his fingers against her skin. This was wrong. This was insane. Oh, God... this was something she hadn't known for such a long time. Which only proved that Andreas was right. Being alone with him like this was very, very dangerous. "If you were mine," he murmured low under his breath, "I would walk through the fires of hell itself to keep you away from a man like me." Claire stared into his amber-flecked eyes, unsure what to say to him. Unsure what to think. All she knew was the feeling that was suddenly ablaze inside her--a kindling sense of longing and regret that shook her to her core. It was regret that won out. Scowling suddenly, Andreas broke her gaze. He glanced over his shoulder, head cocked slightly to the side, listening. Claire heard nothing, but then she didn't possess the preternaturally keen hearing of the Breed. Nor did she have to hear in order to understand what was going on outside the manor house. "Enforcement Agents," she whispered. "Wilhelm said he would arrange for a unit to come in at sundown to work everything out with you." Andreas backed off her with a dark chuckle. "A death squad." "No," she said. Dear God, she hoped not. "Nothing's going to happen to you. I won't let it.
Andre--" He wasn't listening to her now. In fluid motion, he loped to the stairwell and started climbing the steps two at a time. "Get out of the house, Claire. Do it now." Like hell she would. She hissed a curse and ran after him instead. He ducked into a second-floor bedroom at the front of the house, heading straight for the window. He tore off the UV-blocking shutters and peered through the mangled metal at the grounds below, swearing something nasty. Claire came up behind him just in time to see the black shapes of several armed agents scrambling in stealth formation toward the house. Andreas wheeled around, the tips of his fangs gleaming behind his upper lip. Accusation glinted hard in his eyes. "Do they look like they've come to negotiate with me?" Claire didn't have a chance to answer. Downstairs, there was a crash of breaking glass, followed by the heavy pound of boots hitting polished marble. The agents were pouring inside. "What will you do?" she asked him in a tight whisper, feeling the energy in the room begin to heat up already. It was Andreas generating the strange crackle in the air. His fury was growing, bringing with it the terrible power of his pyrokinesis. "Andre, listen to me ... you can't continue like this. Please. I'm begging you--" His face was fierce, eyes blazing. "Wilhelm Roth is the one who should be begging me. Not you." The thunder of footsteps continued on the first floor as the agents split up to search the house.
Someone called for Claire, advising her to make her position known to the invading unit. "Go on," Andreas said. "Let them take you to safety outside." She knew she should. God help her, she knew with every scrap of logic in her mind that the smartest, most reasonable thing for her to do would be to let Wilhelm's men escort her out of the house while they tried to convince Andreas to give himself up peacefully. Her mind knew all of that. It was her heart that hesitated. "Goddamn it, Claire." Andreas stalked over to her and seized her arms in a bruising grasp. He gave her a brisk shake. "What the hell is wrong with you?" A shattering clap of sound exploded from behind her. Heat arrowed past her right ear, blowing strands of her loose hair into her face. She felt the sudden impact of the bullet as it missed her by a scant inch and slammed into the upper left side of Andreas's chest. "Nooo!" she screamed, horrified. He staggered back on his heels, but the shot didn't take him down. The mingled scents of gunpowder and blood filled Claire's head. They'd shot him. Oh, Christ...no. Blocking Andreas with her own body, she spun around to face the Enforcement Agent who stood in the open doorway of the bedroom. His huge black rifle was still aimed at Andreas, his finger hovering dangerously at the trigger. "Are you all right, Frau Roth?" For a long moment, she had no breath to speak. Her heart was jackhammering in her chest, her knees almost jelly beneath her.