Dante and the rest of the warriors stood too; then, after a long moment, so did the Darkhaven agent, retrieving his polished leather case from the floor beside him. Dante took a step out from the table. When Chase tried to move past him, he got the edge of Dante‘s thick shoulder blocking his path. Given no choice, he paused.
―Folks like you call us savages,‖ Dante said harshly, ―yet here you are, all posh and shiny in your suit and tie, asking for our help. Lucan speaks for the Order, and if he says we‘re going to bail your ass out on this little problem, then that‘s good enough for me. But it doesn‘t mean I have to like it. Doesn‘t mean I have to like you either.‖
―I‘m not hoping to win any popularity contests. And if you have misgivings about my proposed role in this investigation, by all means, state them.‖
Dante chuckled, surprised by the challenge. He didn‘t think the guy had it in him. ―Well, now, I don‘t mean to stand on ceremony, Special Investigative Agent Chase—‘scuse me,
Senior
Special Investigative Agent—but what I do, what all of us in this room do, each and every night, is some dirty fucking work. We fight. We kill. We sure as shit don‘t run some kind of tourist program for Darkhaven agents looking to build their political careers on our blood and sweat.‖
―Nor is that my intention, I assure you. All that matters to me is my charge to locate and recover the individuals who‘ve gone missing from my community. If the Order can stop the proliferation of Crimson in the process, so much the better. For all of the Breed.‖
―And how is it you feel you‘re even remotely qualified to go out on patrols with us?‖
Agent Chase glanced around the room, possibly looking for support from any one of the warriors standing around the table. The room was quiet. Not even Lucan spoke on his behalf. Dante narrowed his gaze and smiled, half-hoping the silence would drive the agent away. Send him running back to his quiet little sanctuary with his tail between his legs. Then Dante and the rest of the Order could get back to the business of dealing death to the Rogues—preferably without an audience and a goddamn scorecard.
―I hold a BA in Political Science from Columbia University,‖ Chase finally said. ―And, like my brother and my father before me, I have a law degree from Harvard, where I graduated at the top of my class. In addition, I am trained in three schools of martial arts and have an expertmarksman rating in a shooting range of eleven hundred feet. That measure being without the aid of a scope.‖
―Is that right?‖ The résumé was impressive, but Dante hardly flinched in reaction. ―So, tell me, Harvard, how many times have you used your training—martial arts or weapons—outside of a classroom? How much of your blood have you spilled? How much have you taken from your enemies in the heat of battle?‖
The agent held Dante‘s flat stare, the cleanshaven, square chin climbing up a notch. ―I‘m not afraid to be tested on the street.‖
―That‘s good,‖ Dante drawled. ―That‘s real good, because if you‘re thinking about going to the dance with any of us, you sure as hell will be put to the test.‖
Chase bared his teeth in a tight smile. ―Thanks for the warning.‖
He brushed past Dante, murmured his good-byes to Lucan and the others, then strolled out of the lab with his briefcase clutched hard in his hand. When the glass doors slid closed behind the agent, Niko ground out a curse in his native Siberian tongue. ―That‘s some messed-up shit, Darkhaven pencil-pusher thinking he‘s got balls enough to ride with us.‖
Dante shook his head, sharing the same opinion, but his thoughts were churning on something else equally troubling. Maybe more so.
―I got jumped downtown tonight,‖ he said, meeting the tense faces of his brethren. ―I thought it was a Rogue stalking prey outside a club. I fought with the son of a bitch, but he wasn‘t going down easy. Ended up pursuing him down to the riverfront, where I ran into a whole new mess of trouble. A group of heavily armed suckheads came at me hard.‖
Gideon slanted a narrowed gaze on him. ―Damn, D. Why didn‘t you call in for support?‖
―There wasn‘t time to do anything but try to save my own ass,‖ Dante said, recalling the viciousness of the attack. ―The thing is, that suckhead I chased down there fought like a demon. Virtually unstoppable, like a Gen One Rogue—maybe worse. And titanium didn‘t affect him.‖
―If he was Rogue,‖ Lucan said, ―the titanium should have smoked him on the spot.‖
―Right,‖ Dante agreed. ―He showed all the signs of advanced Bloodlust, but he hadn‘t actually turned Rogue. And there‘s more. That dried pink foam you can see in Chase‘s morgue shots? That suckhead had it too.‖
―Shit,‖ Gideon said, picking up the photographs and showing them to the other warriors. ―So, in addition to dealing with the continuing problem of the Rogues, now we‘re coming up against Breed vampires hopped up on Crimson too. In the heat of the fight, how‘re we going to know what we‘ve got in our crosshairs?‖
―We won‘t,‖ Dante said.
Gideon shrugged. ―Suddenly things don‘t seem so black and white.‖
Tegan, his expression placid and cool, exhaled a wry laugh. ―As of a few months ago, our problem with the Rogues became a war. Not a lot of room for gray in that picture.‖
Niko nodded his head in agreement. ―If a suckhead wants to get in my shit—Crimson eater or Rogue—he‘s got one thing to look forward to: death. Let the Darkhavens sort through the rubble once it‘s all over.‖
Lucan turned his attention to Dante. ―What about you, D? Care to weigh in on this?‖
Dante crossed his arms over his chest, more than ready for that shower now and an end to a night that had only proceeded to go downhill since he got out of bed. ―From what little we know of Crimson, it doesn‘t sound good. All these missing civilians, with more all the time, is bound to start a panic in the Darkhaven populations in general. Bad enough we‘ve got this new complication of Crimson users to deal with, but can any of you imagine the clusterfuck situation of having the streets overrun with a bunch of Darkhaven agents trying to ID
missing persons and apprehend them on their own?‖
Lucan nodded. ―Which brings us back to Agent Chase and his request to participate in this operation. He‘s come to us with the same concerns, not wanting to cause widespread panic yet needing to recover the missing and find a swift solution to the problem Crimson seems to be causing among the Breed. I think he could be a benefit to us, not only in the operation itself but down the road as well. It might be good for the Order to have an ally in the Darkhavens.‖
Dante could not contain his scoff of incredulity.
―We‘ve never needed them. We‘ve been pulling their nancy assess out of fires for centuries, Lucan. Don‘t tell me we‘re going to start kissing up to them now. Fuck that, man! If we let them into our business, next thing you know, we‘ll have to ask their permission to take a piss.‖
He‘d gone too far. Lucan said nothing, but a glance to the other warriors and then the door sent all but Dante out of the room. Dante stared at the white marble floor beneath his sodden boots, getting the sense that he‘d just stepped into a pit of misery.
No one lost control in front of Lucan.
He was the leader of the Order, had been since the initial formation of the elite cadre of warriors nearly seven hundred years ago, long before Dante or most of the other current members had been born. Lucan was first-generation Breed, his blood flowing with the genes of the Ancients, those vicious otherworlders who came to this planet millennia past, bred with human females, and started the first line of the vampire race. Gen Ones like Lucan were few now and remained the most powerful—and most volatile—of all the Breed. He was Dante‘s mentor, a true friend, if Dante could be so bold as to claim the formidable warrior as such.
But that didn‘t mean Lucan wouldn‘t tear a hole in him if he felt Dante needed it.
―I could give a shit for Darkhaven PR, same as you,‖ Lucan said, the cadence of his deep voice measured and cool. ―But the news of this drug disturbs me. We need to find out who‘s sourcing it and sever that chain. It‘s too important to leave it to Darkhaven involvement. If keeping a lid on this operation for the time being so that we can get the situation under control,
on our terms,
means letting Agent Chase play warrior for a few nights, then that‘s the price we have to pay.‖
When Dante opened his mouth to voice a further argument against the idea, Lucan arched a black brow and cut him off before he could get the first word out.
―I‘ve decided that you will be the one to pair up with Agent Chase on patrol.‖
Dante bit his tongue, knowing Lucan would abide no argument in this now.
―I choose you because you‘re the best one for the job, Dante. Tegan would probably kill the agent outright, just because he annoyed him. And Niko, while a capable warrior, does not have your years of experience on the street. Keep the Darkhaven agent out of trouble, but don‘t lose sight of the true goal: exterminating our enemies. I know you won‘t let me down. You never have. I‘ll contact Chase and let him know that his tour begins tomorrow night.‖
Dante gave a low nod of acceptance, not trusting himself to speak when outrage was pouring through his veins. Lucan clapped him on the shoulder as if to say he understood Dante‘s simmering anger, then headed out of the lab. Dante could only stand there for a moment, his jaw clamped so tight his molars burned with the pressure.
Had he really walked into the compound thinking that this night couldn‘t get any worse?
Holy hell, had he been wrong about that.
After everything he‘d been through the past twelve hours, culminating with this unwanted babysitting assignment, he was going to have to seriously recalibrate his idea of Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.
CHAPTER Seven
H
ere you go, Mrs. Corelli.‖ Tess lifted a plastic cat carrier over the reception counter, passing the growling, hissing white Persian back to its owner.
―Angel‘s not too happy right now, but he should be feeling back up to snuff in a couple of days. I wouldn‘t let him outside until the sutures have dissolved, though. Not that he‘s going to be feeling like much of a Romeo anymore.‖
The elderly woman clucked her tongue. ―For months now, all up and down my street, what do I see? Little Angels running around. I tell you, I had no idea! And my poor smoochie-puss, coming home every night looking like a prizefighter, that pretty face of his torn up and bloody.‖
―Well, he won‘t have a lot of interest in fighting anymore. Or in his other apparent pastime. You‘ve done the right thing by having him neutered, Mrs. Corelli.‖
―My husband would like to know if you‘d do the same for our granddaughter‘s current boyfriend.
Ay,
but that boy is a wild one. Nothing but trouble and he‘s only fifteen!‖
Tess laughed. ―My practice is limited to animals, I‘m afraid.‖
―More‘s the pity. Now, what do I owe you, dear?‖
Tess watched the elderly woman dig out her checkbook with chapped, arthritic hands. Even though she was well past retirement age, Mrs. Corelli cleaned houses five days a week, Tess knew. It was hard work, and the wages were meager, but since her husband‘s disability pay had dried up a few years ago, Mrs. Corelli had become the sole provider for her household. Whenever Tess felt tempted to sulk because she was strapped and struggling, she thought about this woman and how she soldiered on with dignity and grace.
―We‘re actually running a special on services right now, Mrs. Corelli. So your grand total for today is twenty dollars.‖
―Are you sure, dear?‖ At Tess‘s insistent nod, the woman paid the clinic fee, then tucked the pet carrier under her arm and headed for the exit.
―Thank you, Doctor Tess.‖
―You‘re very welcome.‖
As the door closed behind her client, Tess glanced to the clock on the waiting-room wall. Just after four. The day had seemed to drag on endlessly, no doubt due to the strange night she‘d had.
She
had
considered
canceling
her
appointments and staying home, but she‘d marshaled herself and worked the full day. One more appointment, and then she could get out of here.
Although why she was so eager to race home to her empty apartment, she had no idea. She felt edgy and exhausted at the same time, her entire system buzzing with an odd kind of disquiet.
―You have a message from Ben,‖ Nora
announced as she came out of one of the doggrooming rooms. ―It‘s on a sticky note by the phone. Something about a fancy art thing tomorrow night? He said you mentioned you‘d go with him a few weeks ago, but he wanted to make sure you hadn‘t forgotten.‖
―Oh, shit. The MFA dinner exhibit is tomorrow night?‖
Nora gave her a wry look. ―Guess you forgot. Well, it sounds like fun anyway. Oh, and your fourtwenty vaccination called to cancel. One of the girls called in sick at the diner, so now she‘s working a double shift. She wanted to reschedule for next week.‖
Tess gathered her long hair off her neck and rubbed the tight muscles at her nape. ―That‘s fine. Will you call her back and rebook the appointment for me?‖
―Already did. You feeling okay?‖