"He's stepping things up big-time," Gideon added. "Between this discovery today and now the kidnapping of Lazaro Archer's grandson, it's pretty clear that Dragos isn't about to give up."
"And nothing is beneath him," Brock remarked, grave with the possibilities. "That makes him more dangerous than ever. We'd better be prepared for the worst when it comes to this bastard."
Lucan nodded, his gaze sober, reflective. "For now, we'll take it one crisis at a time. Chase, come with me. I want you to ride shotgun with Tegan when he goes topside to collect the Archers. Everyone else, tech lab in ten."
Lazaro Archer was rumored to be close to a thousand years old, but like any other Breed male, outwardly the jet-haired Gen One looked to be no more than thirty. The lines around his stern mouth and the shadows under his dark blue eyes, although pronounced, were just evidence of his distress over the abduction of his young grandson. Those shrewd but weary eyes scanned the faces of everyone who was gathered in the tech lab--the warriors and their mates, and Jenna at Brock's side, as well--all of them watching and waiting as Lucan and Gabrielle escorted the Breed elder and his grim-faced son, Christophe, into the room.
Quick, courteous introductions circled the large conference table, but everyone there understood the meeting was hardly a social call. Brock couldn't remember the last time a Breed civilian was admitted into the compound. Few in the vampire nation even knew where the Order's headquarters were located, let alone stepped inside.
Neither of the Archers looked comfortable being there, either, particularly the abducted boy's father. Brock didn't miss the slightly superior tilt of the younger male's chin as he scanned the tech lab and each of the warriors seated at the table, most of whom were still dressed in night patrol gear, weapons and all. Christophe Archer seemed reluctant, if not resistant, to be offered an empty chair among the heathens of the Order.
Desperate times, Brock thought gravely, inclining his head in greeting as the second-generation Breed civilian in his long cashmere coat and impeccably tailored shirt and pants settled carefully into the seat next to him.
Lucan cleared his throat, his deep voice taking instant command of the room as he glanced at the two newcomers. "First, I want to assure you both that everyone in this room shares your concern for Kellan's safety. As I told you when we spoke earlier, Lazaro, you have the full commitment of the Order in seeing that the boy is found and brought home."
"That all sounds very reassuring," Christophe Archer said from beside Brock, a tense edge to his voice. "The Enforcement Agency has vowed the same thing, and as much as I want to believe it, the fact is we don't even know where to begin searching for my son. Can anyone tell me who would do this? What kind of gutless criminals would break in to our home while we were away and take my boy?"
After speaking again with Mathias Rowan of the Enforcement Agency, Chase had briefed them all on the troubling details of the abduction before the Archers had arrived. Three immense, heavily armed Breed males had apparently invaded the Darkhaven estate where Lazaro and Christophe Archer lived with their families. The elder Archers and their Breedmates had gone to a charity fund-raiser that evening, leaving teenage Kellan home alone.
By the sound of it, the kidnapping had been as stealthy as it was precise--all of it hinged on a very specific target. In a span of what could have only been mere minutes, the intruders entered the Darkhaven through a back window, killed two of Christophe's security personnel, then snatched the youth from his upstairs bedroom and drove away with him.
The sole witness to the abduction was a cousin, several years younger than Kellan, who'd hidden in a closet as the invasion took place.
Understandably afraid and upset, he could hardly describe the abductors, except to say that they'd been dressed from head to toe in black, with masked faces that obscured everything but their eyes. The boy had also noted that the three males each wore a strange, thick black collar around their necks.
While the Enforcement Agent hadn't fully understood the ramifications of that one crucial detail, every member of the Order did. They had suspected Dragos was at the heart of this, but hearing that a trio of his homegrown assassins--Gen Ones bred and trained to serve him, their loyalty ensured by the lethal UV collars each was forced to wear--had confirmed their suspicions were correct.
"I simply cannot comprehend this kind of madness," Christophe said, leaning his elbows on the table, his features stricken, eyes pleading. "I mean, why? Certainly our race is not so crude as the humans who would grapple and connive over money, so what could anyone possibly have to gain by stealing my only child?"
"No," Lucan replied, the word as grim as his expression. "We do not believe this has anything to do with a potential financial gain."
"Then what could they possibly want with Kellan? What can they gain by taking him away?"
Lucan glanced briefly at Lazaro Archer. "Leverage. The inpidual who ordered this abduction will, no doubt, issue a demand before too long."
"A demand for what?"
"For me," Lazaro said quietly. When his son's gaze slid to him in question, the Gen One looked at him in frank remorse. "Christophe is not aware of the conversation we had nearly a year ago, Lucan. I never told him about the warning you gave me and the other few remaining Gen Ones that someone was seeking to erase us from existence. He doesn't know about the other killings among our generation."
Christophe Archer's face went a bit pale. "Father, what are you talking about? Who is seeking to harm you?"
"His name is Dragos," Lucan replied. "The Order has been waging a private war with him for some time now. But not before he had the chance to spend several decades--centuries, in fact--building his secret empire. He has already killed several other Gen Ones in the past year alone, and that, unfortunately, is only scratching the surface of his madness. All he knows is power, and the need to claim it. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants, and no life is sacred."