Eva's stricken gaze lit on Rio's weapon belt lying next to the bed.
A look of resolve crossed her face as she lunged for one of the blades.
She raised the gleaming dagger up near her face.
Whispered to Rio that she would always love him.
Then Eva flipped the weapon around in her hand and pressed it to her throat.
"Eva, no!" Gabrielle screamed, her body jerking in reflex as if she thought she could save the other female. "Oh, my God, no!"
Lucan held her at his side. He swiftly took her in his arms and turned her face into his chest, shielding her from seeing Eva slice through her own jugular and fall, bleeding and lifeless, to the floor.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Fresh out of the shower in Lucan's bedroom suite, Gabrielle toweled off her wet hair and slipped into a plush white terry-cloth robe. She was exhausted, having spent the better part of the day with Savannah and Danika, the three of them helping Gideon attend to Rio and Lucan. Everyone in the compound moved in a state of numb disbelief over Eva's betrayal and the tragic outcome that left her dead at her own hand and Rio clinging precariously to life.
Lucan was in bad shape as well, but true to his word and his stubborn volition, he had left the infirmary on his own motor to rest in his personal suites. Gabrielle was astonished that he had accepted any care at all, but between the other women and herself, there hadn't been any hope of his refusing.
Gabrielle felt a swelling sense of relief when she opened the bathroom door and found him seated on the massive bed, his back propped up against the headboard with several pillows. Although his cheek and brow were stitched and bandages covered much of his broad chest and limbs, he was recovering. He was whole, and in time, he would be healed.
Like her, he wore nothing but a white terry robe; it was all the women had permitted him to put on after they'd spent hours cleaning and patching up contusions and bloody shrapnel wounds, which peppered so much of his body.
"Feel better?" Lucan asked, staring as she ran her fingers through her damp hair to push it out of her face. "I thought you might be hungry once you came out of there."
"I'm starved."
He gestured to a squat cocktail table in the sitting area of the bedroom, but Gabrielle's nose had already picked up on the impressive buffet. French bread, garlic and spices, tomato sauce, and cheese wafted from across the room. She saw a plate of field greens and a cup of fresh fruit, even something dark and chocolate-looking amid all the other temptations. She wandered over for a closer look, her stomach growling in anticipation.
"Manicotti," she said, breathing in the pasta's aromatic fumes. A bottle of red wine had been uncorked beside a crystal glass. "And chianti?"
"Savannah wanted to know if you had any favorite foods. It was all I could think of."
It was the meal she'd made for herself the night he had come back to her apartment to return her cell phone. The meal that sat cold and forgotten on her counter while she and Lucan went at it like minks. "You remembered what I was cooking that night?"
He gave a mild shrug. "Sit down. Eat."
"There's only one place setting."
"Were you expecting company?"
She looked at him. "You really can't eat any of this? Not even a bite?"
"If I did, I could only stomach a small amount." He motioned for her to take a seat. "Eating human food is merely for appearances."
"All right." Gabrielle sat on the floor cross-legged. She slid the creamy linen napkin out from under the silverware and draped it over her lap. "But it doesn't seem fair for me to stuff my face in front of you."
"Don't worry about me. I've had enough female fussing and concern for one day."
"Suit yourself."
She was too hungry to wait another second and the meal looked far too delicious to resist. Using the edge of her fork, Gabrielle cut off a bite of the manicotti and chewed it in a state of absolute bliss. She ate half of it in record time, pausing only to pour a glass of wine, which she also consumed with ravenous delight.
The whole time, Lucan watched her from the bed.
"Good?" he asked when she flicked a sheepish glance at him over the rim of her wineglass.
"Fantastic," she murmured, shoveling in a mouthful of vinegarette-drenched field greens. Her stomach was much happier now. She swallowed the last bite of salad, then poured another half glass of chianti, and settled back with a sigh. "Thank you for this. I'll have to thank Savannah, too. She didn't have to go to all this trouble."
"She likes you," Lucan said, his studious expression unreadable. "You were a big help last night. Thank you for looking after Rio and the others. Myself, as well."
"You don't have to thank me."
"Yes, I do." The small, stitched gash in his forehead bunched up with his scowl. "You've been kind and giving all along, and I - " He broke off, muttering something under his breath. "I appreciate what you did, that's all."
Oh, she thought, that's all. Even his gratitude came fully equipped with emotional barriers now.
Suddenly feeling too much like an outsider with him at the moment, she was more than willing to change the subject.
"I hear Tegan made it back in one piece."
"Yes. But Dante and Niko nearly tore him apart on sight, after he pulled that disappearing act during the raid."
"What happened to him last night?"
"One of the Rogues tried to slip out a back door at the warehouse as things heated up. Tegan tailed him into the street. He was going to take the suckhead out, but decided to follow him first, see where he might run. He tracked him to the old asylum outside the city. Place was crawling with Rogues. If there was any doubt, now we're certain it's a large colony. Probably an East Coast headquarters."