"Yes, sire," he agreed eagerly. "And I did all of that because I have faith in you, in your vision."
Dragos's anger hadn't ebbed a bit. But he smiled, his mouth feeling tight with the presence of his emerging fangs. "I've never doubted your faith, my good Mr. Traherne. You've had the heart and the means. You even had the malice, when it was called for. What you've always lacked, however, was balls." With the faintest flick of his eyes, Dragos signaled to the Hunter who stood behind Traherne. "End him."
The kill was swift and clean. On the video monitor, Traherne's eyes bulged as his head fell forward, twisted at an unnatural angle on his broken neck. His skull landed with a hard thump on the desk in front of him.
Dragos barely paid the death even a second's notice. He let the dead lieutenant remain on- screen as he turned his attention back to the three other members of his unholy alliance. "We have ventured where none before us has dared," he told them without missing a beat. "Now we begin preparations to take the ultimate step toward securing our rightful place in history."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THEY HEADED NORTH in a large black Land Rover SUV, hours out of Boston and deep into the state of Maine.
Tavia hadn't wanted to go anywhere with anyone, least of all a group of three heavily armed Breed males and a leather-clad woman who seemed equally dangerous with or without the guns and blades that bristled from her weapons belt. But Chase's promise that she would be safe with them - safe at the Order's haven, which was where they headed now - was reassurance enough for her to accept.
He sat in the backseat of the vehicle, sandwiched between her and the apparent warrior in charge of their retrieval, a formidable male with unforgiving gem-green eyes and a mane of shaggy, tawny hair. His name was Tegan. Nikolai and Renata sat up front, the fast-talking, quick- witted blond warrior behind the wheel and his ebony-haired mate next to him in the passenger seat.
Riding in the jump seat behind Tavia, Chase, and Tegan was a stoic giant of a male with close-cropped, light brown hair and piercing golden eyes. Of all the vehicle's occupants, it was this one who put Tavia most on guard. Cool, detached - everything about the male called Hunter was measured and in control. All business and lethal efficiency, like the killing edge of a blade. Which wasn't surprising, considering his former profession.
Tavia wanted to know more about him, particularly considering the fact that they had been spawned from some of the same DNA in Dragos's labs. But there had been little time for questions or conversation at Mathias Rowan's house. The ride north hadn't exactly been filled with chatter so far either.
Chase hadn't said a word the whole time they'd been driving. His chin was dipped low toward his chest, but even under the tousled hank of hair drooping over his brow, the ember glow of his eyes was hard to miss. The glyphs on his bare forearms still seethed with dark hues. Her own body had resumed its normal state before they'd even left Boston, but Chase's seemed to be coming down a lot slower. His rage, which had exploded back at Mathias's place, still simmered like a poison under his skin.
The psychic pain Renata had dealt him also lingered. Tavia felt the echoes of it in the blood bond she was still trying to get accustomed to. God, she'd been so alarmed - bone-jarringly terrified - the moment that jolt of mental fury slammed into Chase's skull. She'd reacted on pure instinct, leaping over the banister railing without a thought for the human impossibility of the move and sailing down to the foyer below. All that had mattered to her in that instant was Chase. Her relief at finding him alive, seeing him come to his feet beside her, had been so deep and complete, it defied description.
As did the warmth that cocooned her when she heard the protective rage in his deep, booming voice as he'd bellowed for his friends not to harm her.
Now his brooding silence - his very presence in the close confines of the SUV - seemed to put everyone on guard. Pressed up against her, his rigid body radiated heat and banked aggression. Maybe she should have felt some of the same apprehension about him that his friends did, but the warmth of his thigh was a comfort against hers. His bulky shoulder was firm under her head as she rested lightly on him, her gaze trained on the dark landscape blurring past outside the vehicle's windows as the miles fell away behind them.
When she glanced up, she found Nikolai's wintry blue eyes looking at her in the rearview mirror. It wasn't the first time he'd flicked a curious, scrutinizing peek at her. This time, Renata reached over from the passenger seat and gave his shoulder a light cuff. "Stop gaping at the poor girl, Niko. She's not a sideshow, for crissake."
"Sorry," he said, and swore something in what sounded like Russian. "It's just gonna take me a while to get used to the idea."
Renata rolled her eyes at him, then swiveled around in her seat to face Tavia. "Forgive him. I think we're all trying really hard not to stare. I mean, Mathias told us about you, but actually seeing you for ourselves ... and back at the Darkhaven? Well, wow." She sent a look to the others in the vehicle, then shook her head, making her chin-length black hair sift fluidly at her jawline. "Between Jenna and Tavia, things are going to get really interesting around here." "Who's Jenna?" Tavia asked. "Is she ... like me?" She felt a prickle of hope at the thought, even though she wasn't sure she should wish her life - and all the betrayals that came with it - on anyone else.
"Jenna's human," Nikolai replied, glancing at her once more in the rearview. "Or she was, that is. Until a few weeks ago."
"Jenna's still human where it counts." Renata turned to her mate and tapped the center of her chest. "She may be changing physically and psychically, but inside she's still Jenna." "What happened to her?"