by Adrian, Lara
And he’d been stunned to feel a wave of protectiveness toward her that he had no right to feel.
Not for her.
Not for anyone.
If things got messy on an emotional level, he wasn’t one to stick around. More than one person in his lifetime could attest to that.
“I’d feel better if you stayed close to us for a while,” Tavia was saying now. She took Brynne’s hand in hers. “I’m still getting used to the idea that I have a sister in my life. Do you really think I’m going to be okay with letting you go back into a dangerous situation alone?”
Brynne’s lips parted with the beginnings of an argument, but Lucan spoke first.
“I’ve got to agree with Tavia on this. We have to assume Opus knows you’re cooperating with the Order now, which means the odds of you ending up with a target on your back if you return to London are too damned high to risk.”
“I’m a career law enforcement officer, Lucan. I’m a decorated investigator who’s also been trained in combat and crisis negotiations.”
“Good. Then if you don’t want to accept the decision of a higher ranking official, you should be able to recognize when debating one will be futile.”
She chose that moment to glance Zael’s way, and he knew he hadn’t been quick enough to hide his agreeing nod. Not that he wanted to see her unhappy, but he also didn’t want to see her anywhere near the smoldering ruins of JUSTIS or the sadistic fucks who perpetrated the attack.
She would be safest with the Order, whether she wanted to believe that or not.
“They’re right,” Zael said. “You may not have been in the building when it blew last night, but that doesn’t mean Opus knew you weren’t there.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts, clearly outraged by his interference. “Everything points to a well-planned attack. It took time for Opus to execute this. Much longer than the week or so that I’ve been working with the Order.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But what’s to say you didn’t have a target on your back long before then? If not simply because you were part of JUSTIS, then for being kin to one of the Order’s key commanders?”
“Jesus Christ.” The curse came from Sterling Chase. The Boston commander’s grave stare moved from Tavia to her sister. “We thought we were keeping your connection to each other confidential, but what if someone in Opus knows?”
Some of Brynne’s outrage drained from her face as she considered the possibility.
“You’re safe now,” Zael told her. “That’s the important thing.”
She blinked and glanced away from him, refusing to look up again.
Since his presence wasn’t helping the situation, he decided to make things easier for her—and for the people trying to reason with her.
“I’m sure there are many things the Order needs to discuss,” he said, already taking a step toward the door. “If you have no further need of me now, I think it’s time I take my leave.”
Lucan cleared his throat. “Not so fast, Zael. Yes, there are things that need to be discussed—including recent developments concerning your people and their queen.”
CHAPTER 7
After the Order drew Zael into a closed-door meeting in the conference room, Tavia brought Brynne to meet Lucan’s Breedmate in the residence section of the sprawling D.C. estate.
“We’ve got an unusually full house at the moment,” Gabrielle Thorne said as the regal, auburn-haired Breedmate led Tavia and Brynne down an elegant third-floor hallway in the Order’s massive headquarters. “This wing doesn’t get a lot of use these days. The entire third floor was reserved for visiting foreign dignitaries back when the old house was used as an embassy.”
Old house? The place was palatial. Brynne had seen royal residences in England that were less impressive. Intricately tooled millwork lined the ivory walls of the passage and richly colored, thick Persian rugs covered the gleaming dark wood floors. Following her two companions toward the middle of the long corridor, Brynne couldn’t help but admire the many carved busts and neoclassical sculptures that stood on polished pedestals along the way, or the antique photographs of significant landmarks and natural wonders that competed with paintings by master artists on the silk-covered walls.
Her stroll ended in front of the open doors of a sumptuous library that smelled wonderfully of aged leather book bindings and lemon-waxed, old wood. At another time, under different circumstances, she could see herself getting lost among all of those books for days on end.
“I’m sorry you’re going to the trouble to make room for me. I imagine you’ve both got more important things to do, this week especially.”
Gabrielle turned a genuinely warm smile on her. “It’s no trouble at all. Even if you weren’t Tavia’s sister, after all you did for us the other night, you’re part of the Order’s family, Brynne.”
Tavia nodded in agreement. “I know you’d rather be in your own place, but I hope you’ll be comfortable here for now.”
As she spoke, Gabrielle turned to open a door directly across from the library. The room inside was large, but cozy, with a small sitting area on one side and a four-poster bed on the other. The drapes on the tall window had been drawn to let in the morning light and the view of the manicured grounds below. On a bureau near the opened door, a vase of fresh-cut flowers perfumed the air.
“The room is lovely,” Brynne said as she stepped inside. “Thank you both.”
“Make yourself at home,” Gabrielle told her. “That goes for the entire estate. And you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
“Or as long as my sister and the Order insist?”
Tavia exhaled a short sigh. “It’s not meant to be a punishment, you know. We’re only concerned for your well-being.”
Brynne knew it wasn’t. She waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s all right. I understand. I even agree that London may not be the best choice for me right now. I guess you might say I’m a bit hard-headed, especially when it comes to being told what I can or cannot do.”
Tavia and Gabrielle exchanged an amused look.
“I think you’ve definitely found your tribe,” Gabrielle said around a laugh.
“What about Zael?” The question popped out of her mouth before she could even think to hold it back.
“What about him?” Tavia asked. A spark of curiosity lit her questioning gaze. “And why do I get the impression there is something more going on between you two than either of you is willing to say?”
“There’s absolutely nothing going on between us.”
Maybe her denial was too immediate, too insistent. It certainly didn’t seem to convince her shrewd half-sibling if the look on Tavia’s face was any indication.
Brynne shrugged. “You heard him yourself. Zael showed up in London last night with the mistaken idea that I would fall at his feet the way every other woman probably does.”
No, she hadn’t fallen at his feet. She’d pounced on him like a woman starved for sex. Which, technically speaking, she was. She was starving for a lot of things, but she’d been an idiot to let Zael glimpse even part of that weakness in her. Now, he’d likely never let her live it down.
What would he do if he knew anything about her other secret shame? The dangerous one that lurked deep in her laboratory-mixed DNA. The one that she’d been hiding ever since she emerged from beneath the collar of her upbringing. Not even Tavia would look at her the same way if she knew. No one would, and rightly so.
Brynne tugged her thoughts away from her monstrous beginnings and back to the source of her more recent aggravation. “As far as the Atlantean is concerned, I have no interest in a romantic relationship or anything else.”
“Mm-hmm,” Tavia replied. “And is that why you’ve been trying so hard to ignore him since you arrived?”
God, had it been that noticeable?
Was it still?
She’d been trying to avoid looking at Zael today because every time her gaze landed on him all she could think about
was the feel of his lips on hers. And when she recalled how hot and commanding his mouth had been—how good their bodies had felt, pressed close and moving sensually together on the dance floor—all she wanted was to feel that rush again.
Why couldn’t she have done the smart thing last night and let that cute, clearly available and utterly harmless bartender take her home? Why couldn’t she have said yes to any one of the other men—human or Breed—who’d either circled her at the bar or come right up to take their shot?
She knew the answer and unfortunately it all came back to Zael. She hadn’t wanted any of those other men. She would have sworn she didn’t want Zael either, but her body seemed to have other ideas.
No doubt about it, kissing him had been a colossal mistake.
One she couldn’t take back and, unfortunately, would never forget.
It was going to be a lot harder to put him out of her mind so long as he was under the same roof with her. Even worse, if he was going to be closely involved with the Order for any length of time.
“Do either of you really think he’s a wise choice of ally?”
“You don’t?” Tavia asked. “If you have cause to think that, Brynne, we need to know.”
She wanted to discount Zael outright, but the truth was, despite being a pain in her backside from the second she laid eyes on him, he did seem informed and engaged about the problems the Order was facing. He may be a charmless ass, but he seemed to be trustworthy.
Even where she was concerned, seeing how he hadn’t made a fool of her tonight in front of everyone. Incredibly, after making her think she was fair game for his ridicule, he kept her secret to himself.
And maybe he wasn’t completely without charm either.
Still...
“He’s Atlantean,” she murmured, as if that should be cause enough to doubt him. To her mind, it was at least worth questioning. “What do we really know about him?”
Gabrielle glanced at Tavia, indecision in her soft brown eyes. “We know enough to assume Zael’s alliance with the Order is worth any risk.”
“Because of something to do with the Atlanteans’ queen?” When both women looked at her in question, she added, “I realize I haven’t been formally included in the conversation, but Lucan’s comment to Zael downstairs didn’t exactly sound reassuring.”
That was putting it mildly. Brynne’s instincts had gone on high alert at the ominous mention of the immortal race and their apparent ruler.
“Yes, because of her,” Tavia said, after Gabrielle’s permitting nod. “We learned we had an enemy in Selene a few weeks ago, when the Global Nations Council peace summit was compromised by Opus Nostrum—”
“Attacked,” Gabrielle corrected. “They would’ve slaughtered every Breed dignitary in the place if their ultraviolet weapon had gone off before the Order was able to stop it.”
“I remember,” Brynne said. “There were hundreds of diplomats and world leaders at that gathering.”
The news of the attempted assault had made panicked headlines around the world. As for the Order’s heroic actions, it had done little to endear them to a population of humans who mostly despised the Breed as a whole, or to the Darkhavens who considered the warriors to be a volatile force among their kind with an over-reaching grasp on the law. Even JUSTIS was guilty of eyeing the Order with more suspicion than due respect.
“But what does Opus’s attack on the GNC summit have to do with the Atlanteans or their queen?”
“The Opus member who masterminded the whole thing was Atlantean,” Gabrielle explained.
“Reginald Crowe?” Brynne asked. She’d been shocked enough to learn one of the world’s richest, most powerful business magnates was part of the deadly terror group. But this? “Are you saying Crowe was one of Zael’s people?”
“No one knew,” Tavia said. “Just before he was killed, he boasted to some of the warriors about how Opus was only a game compared to what his queen was plotting. He said we should expect a war like we’ve never seen.”
“My God.” Brynne swallowed against the cold knot of dread in her throat. “As if dealing with Opus isn’t bad enough, now there’s this too?”
Gabrielle nodded. “We may have some advantages in our favor, though. We’ve been looking for ways to get ahead of Selene. Zael may be able to help us.”
“He may be the only one,” Tavia added. “But we’re putting him in a hard place.”
“Yes, but he’s got reasons of his own to ally with the Order now,” Gabrielle said. “Jordana, for one.”
Tavia had told Brynne about the young woman during her visit to her sister in Boston recently. Jordana worked with Carys Chase at an art museum and had been recently mated to one of Sterling Chase’s senior warriors. “What does Zael have to do with her?”
Instead of Tavia or Gabrielle answering the question, it was Carys who replied. She stood in the open doorway with another young woman. “What does Zael have to do with who?”
“Jordana,” Tavia said, though whether in answer to her daughter or in greeting to the ethereal, willowy blonde who strode in with fiery Carys, Brynne wasn’t quite sure.
Without pausing for greetings, Carys walked up to Brynne and pulled her into a fierce hug. “I’m so relieved that you’re okay,” she said, drawing back after a long moment. “When I heard what happened in London last night, I was so scared that you might’ve been injured—or worse.”
Brynne smiled at the younger daywalker, equally pleased to see her.
“I’m fine. And thankfully, so are you.”
The two of them had a special bond even before their shared mission together at Fielding’s house party. Brynne had been beside herself with fear and horror when she’d discovered Carys had been abducted right under her nose by one of Opus’s most sadistic members.
“I wouldn’t be here if not for you,” Carys said. “The Order came just in the nick of time, all thanks to you.”
“That’s not quite the way I would explain it,” Brynne demurred. “And from what your mother told me, you handled things rather impressively on your own. Maybe that talk we had about you joining the Order wasn’t all that crazy, eh?”
Carys grinned, her pride beaming from her sharp blue gaze. “As much as I love working at the museum with Jordana here, I actually have been considering a career change.”
Jordana snorted, shattering the illusion of the unearthly goddess. “You won’t if Rune has anything to say about that.”
“We’re negotiating,” Carys said with a waggle of her brows. “He knew what he was getting into when he blood bonded to me.”
Her friend laughed and shook her head. “Hello,” she said to Brynne. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jordana.”
“We were just talking about you,” Tavia said gently. “We were about to explain to Brynne that Zael knew your father.”
“Oh.” Her face lit up, but there was a trace of sadness in her eyes. “They were best friends. They served together as soldiers.”
“In Selene’s legion,” Tavia added. “They both fled the realm years ago.”
Brynne couldn’t pretend the news didn’t shock her. “He was a soldier?”
“One of the best,” Jordana said. “After my father was killed recently in Boston, Zael kept me safe from the queen’s guards who came to find me and bring back me to her. He protected me with his life.”
Zael, the smooth-talking player, was not only a warrior of note to the Atlanteans but a savior to his fallen comrade’s child as well? It wasn’t easy to reconcile the two conflicting views of him, but Brynne’s mind was struggling to process something else Jordana had said as well.
“I’m sorry about your father, Jordana. But… I’m not sure I follow. Why would the queen’s guards be looking for you?”
Carys wrapped her arm around her friend. “Because Jordana is her granddaughter. Her sole heir.”
“Oh, my.” Brynne’s mouth went slack. “Heir to the Atlantean queen. As in, the royal line?”
&nbs
p; Tavia gave her a confirming nod. “We’ve been keeping Jordana’s identity a secret for her own safety.”
“My mother was Selene’s only child,” Jordana explained. “She and my father fell in love, even though it was forbidden. My father broke the law when he made her his mate.”
“There is no law strong enough to forbid love,” Gabrielle said.
“No, there isn’t.” Jordana smiled ruefully and shook her head. “After I was born, there were problems…consequences to be paid. Selene separated my parents. My mother grew despondent, then eventually, she took her own life. And so my father stole me away. He hid me with people he trusted on the outside, then he stepped out of my life to protect me and to give me freedoms I’d never have inside the realm. My grandmother put a price on his head. It took her guards twenty-five years to find him, but they did.”
Brynne didn’t know what to say. Torn between amazement and abhorrence for what she’d just heard, she stood mutely, aching for what Jordana—and her doomed parents—had gone through. “And Zael helped, you say?”
Jordana nodded. “When Selene’s guards came to Boston and killed my father, Zael took me someplace safe. He even battled some of his former comrades to protect me. Without him, I wouldn’t be standing here today.”
Jordana’s fondness for Zael was obvious. Given what he’d apparently done on the young woman’s behalf, her affection was understandable. But Jordana seemed to be describing a different man than the one Zael presented to the outside world.
To Brynne as well.
This Zael was a courageous man. A noble one, the kind who would risk everything to protect the child of a dead friend from an enemy with cold, far-reaching power. Jordana had described a hero—not the first word that leaped to Brynne’s mind when she thought of him.
She didn’t know what to do with this new information.
She also didn’t know what to do with the softening of her regard for the man she so desperately wanted to despise.
