She was so beautiful like this, he could hardly think straight. But she didn't see that. With a rough snarl, she tugged at the long sleeves of her top, exposing her forearms. Then she began rubbing at the dermaglyphs that tracked up her arms, scrubbing her palms over them in a ruthless frenzy, as though she wanted to scrape them off her skin.
Chase stilled her hands, taking them in his. "You're not a monster, Tavia. What you are is a miracle."
He reached up between them and smoothed some of her loose hair away from her flushed face. The urge to kiss her was nearly overwhelming, but he held back, unwilling to take advantage of her distress and confusion. Too bad he didn't have the same restraint earlier that day.
As much as it shamed him to think about the feel of her strong, lithe body wrapped around him, he couldn't deny that if she let him kiss her now, they'd end up na**d all over again. And now that he was thinking about getting Tavia naked, his own body started to react in obvious interest.
He stroked the velvety slope of her cheek. Through emerging fangs, he said, "Jesus Christ ... you are the most incredible thing I've ever seen. Possibly the only one of your kind." "No." She gave a vague shake of her head but didn't pull away from his touch. "I'm not the only one. There are more like me."
Chase's hand paused where it rested against her beautiful face. "There are others? You're sure?"
"I heard Dr. Lewis say so. When Aunt Sarah told him I hadn't had my medication for a couple of days, he seemed alarmed. He said the others had never gone without treatment as long as me without severe reactions."
Holy hell. Chase's veins went cold with astonishment. "What else did he say? Did he mention how many there were? Where they might be?"
Tavia shook her head. "He tried to deny it when I asked him about it."
"Do you know where his office is?"
"Of course. I've been going there for exams and special medical trials since I was a child. He has a private clinic and treatment facility on an old farm property in Sherborn, southwest of Boston."
"That's where he keeps his patient records?"
"As far as I know, everything is kept on-site at the clinic."
While Chase was doing a mental calculation of how fast he could get to the rural farmland clinic, a knock sounded on the Darkhaven's front door. "It's okay," Chase told her. "I'm expecting someone."
He went to the foyer and opened the door for Mathias Rowan. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Chase. Things at the Agency have never been worse. I've got my hands full dealing with Agency traitors and a mass human slaughter that took place at the Chinatown sip-and-strip the other night. I came as soon as I could." As they made their way through the entry hall toward the study, Rowan looked around at the empty Darkhaven and exhaled a low breath. "Crissakes, I never thought you'd return to this place. Especially after what happened with Camden."
"Neither did I." Chase paused in front of his old Agency colleague. "And know that I wouldn't have called you for help unless I had no other choice. I hate dragging you into this shit - "
Rowan put his hand on Chase's shoulder. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm already in it. You're in trouble, I know that. Hell, everyone in a hundred-mile radius knows that, human and Breed alike. You can't turn on the television without seeing your face on every news channel in the country. The dead last place you ought to be right now is Boston, my friend."
Chase nodded. "Yeah. But I need your help with something, Mathias. It's urgent, and it's important."
"I figured it had to be something big if you were calling me. What can I do?"
Chase stepped aside and let Rowan continue on into the study where Tavia stood. Her eyes lit on the Breed male, her thin pupils unwavering in the center of her amber-bright irises. The glyphs on her bared forearms were still alive with changing colors.
Mathias Rowan lost his normally polished demeanor and gaped outright at her. "What the ..." "Tavia Fairchild," Chase said. "Meet my old friend Mathias Rowan."
"Hello," she said, the tips of her fangs glinting bright as diamonds in her mouth. "Is she - " Rowan began, then stopped short. He peered at her in disbelief, then shot a questioning look back at Chase. "She can't be ..."
"She is," Chase said. "And I need you to look after her for me. Get her to the Order as soon as possible. She needs protection from Dragos."
"My God," Rowan gasped. He strode toward her cautiously, scrutinizing her as he might some new wonder of the world. Which wasn't far off the mark. "Remarkable. But ... how can this be?"
"I'll explain it later." Chase checked his weapons belt and grabbed more rounds from the box sitting on the fireplace mantel of the study. "Just get her out of Boston. Take her personally to Lucan. He'll know what to do."
Rowan opened his mouth, but before he could protest or ask more questions, Tavia piped in. "I'm not going anywhere with anyone."
"You are," Chase replied. "It's not safe for you now. Dragos will know his Minions are dead, and he'll come for you. Believe me when I tell you that nothing could be worse for you than falling into his hands."
That stubborn chin went up a notch. "I'll take my chances. But I'm not going anywhere until I know more about who I really am and what's going on."
"And I'll help you with that, if I can. You said your doctor's office is in Sherborn? That's where he keeps your patient records and all the others he's been treating under Dragos's command?"
"Yes, but the clinic property is gated. It's staffed around the clock with an armed security detail."