Although there was plenty of room for everyone in the cabin of the spacious SUV, Micah opted to take the passenger seat next to the vehicle’s dark-haired driver, a strikingly good-looking Breed male who’d introduced himself as Lucan Thorne’s son, Darion. After doing his best to ignore her for the duration of the flight, Micah seemed equally determined to put as much space as possible between them now as well.
Not that Phaedra should notice, let alone care.
The less she had to cope with his simmering mistrust and prickly disposition, the better. To say nothing of the disturbing reminders of their shared dream and all the impossible implications that came with it.
“Having one of the Atlantean crystals certainly gives the Order an edge,” she said, glancing at Zael in unspoken understanding.
He gave her a grim nod. “It’s also one less crystal for Selene to wield against us, should she decide to escalate her contempt into an official war.”
A low scoff sounded from the front seat of the vehicle. “I’d like to see her try.”
Phaedra would have expected the comment to come from Micah, but instead it was Darion’s deep voice that issued the challenge. In the rearview mirror, his dark brown eyes remained fixed on the highway ahead, but the glow from the dashboard lights illuminated the hard, determined set of his square jaw and firm, sculpted lips.
“Trust me, you would not want to see Selene’s wrath up close,” Zael replied gravely. “No one would want that. The only thing keeping her in check is the fact that she’s got just one remaining crystal. She can’t use it as a weapon without weakening its protective powers and leaving both herself and the realm vulnerable to any incoming threat.”
“She would’ve had two, if the colony had lost theirs,” Phaedra pointed out.
Zael nodded, but it was Brynne who answered. “That’s why it’s so crucial for us to continue fortifying our diplomatic strides with the council at the colony. They have to understand that while the Order will never take their crystal by force, there may come a time when we’ll need the combined power of theirs and ours in order to hold off Selene.”
“Or take her down,” Micah growled from the passenger seat up front.
He and Darion exchanged a dangerous look, and for the first time in her life, Phaedra worried for her formidable, immortal queen.
Micah’s grim statement hung over the silence in the vehicle as they navigated the city, heading onto a residential street lined with opulent embassy mansions flying a range of flags from various countries all around the world.
The SUV slowed in front of one of the largest estates on the row, a sprawling eighteenth-century compound set back several hundred yards from the soaring security gate at the street. No flags or signage declared the property to the public, but it was obvious the impressive mansion and grounds could be nothing less than the Order’s global headquarters.
“Be it ever so humble,” Darion quipped, pausing the vehicle for a retina scan at the entrance before continuing through the parting black iron gates and up the long drive toward the house.
They parked in an underground fleet garage the size of an airport hangar and lined with easily a dozen dark-windowed vehicles of varying makes and purposes. More than a few appeared to be outfitted for urban warfare, with chunky tires and sturdy chassis that looked as unstoppable as tanks.
Phaedra followed her escorts to an elevator, uncertain what to expect as the car rose through the building to the main level. If she’d envisioned the Order’s headquarters to be a cold military bunker or a Gothic nightmare of black walls and lightless rooms, or furnishings crafted from the bones of Lucan Thorne’s enemies, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
Even more elegant and refined than the Rome command center’s residence, the D.C. mansion was a feast for the eyes. Beautiful millwork, wood, marble and tile gleamed from every corner of the spacious living quarters. Stunning antique French and English furniture was complemented by lovely sculptures, paintings and tapestries. All of it was bathed in soft golden light from cut-crystal chandeliers and table lamps that glowed invitingly in nearly every room Phaedra could see. She hadn’t been near such jaw-dropping luxury since she left Selene’s court more than a century ago.
As dazzled as she was by the surroundings, it was nothing compared to her first glimpse of the people gathered to greet her as she stepped off the elevator with her companions. Three men and three women stood in the spacious marbled foyer, and there could be no mistaking the dark, commanding presence of the Order’s founder and leader, Lucan Thorne.
Black-haired with stormy gray eyes, he stood at least a head taller than the other two Breed warriors accompanying him. One of them sported spiky, almost disheveled-looking blond hair and translucent silver-lensed sunglasses even though he was indoors. The other enormous male was dark-skinned and stoic, a wall of muscles and menacing presence that seemed at odds with the warmth in his brown eyes.
As for the women, Phaedra could hardly keep from staring. Each was a remarkable beauty, from the serene African American whose hand was linked with the blond warrior’s, to the regal auburn-haired woman standing at Lucan’s side. But it was the third female who captivated Phaedra the most.
Tall and athletic, with short brown hair and penetrating hazel eyes, it was her skin that held Phaedra entranced. It was covered in unusual markings—dermaglyphs. Phaedra didn’t sense that she was Breed, but something about the woman put a strange prickle of “otherness” in her senses.
The female standing beside Lucan offered a polite smile. “You must be Phaedra. I’m Gabrielle Thorne.”
“Hello.” Phaedra didn’t know if she’d be welcomed or treated with the same animosity and mistrust she’d received from Micah, but Gabrielle’s kindness instantly set her at ease. So did the other two women who approached her with warm smiles.
“I’m Savannah,” said the beauty with the mocha-rich skin tone and velvety voice. “The hot geek in the shades over there is Gideon, my mate.”
“And I’m Jenna.” Grinning at her friend’s humor, theglyph-covered brunette strode forward. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you ever since Brock told me you were coming.”
Phaedra sent an acknowledging glance at the black warrior who beamed at Jenna as she spoke. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”
Lucan, who had been observing Phaedra with inscrutable silence, now gave her a slight nod. “I trust the flight was uneventful.”
“Uneventful?” She let out a small laugh. “The trip was fine, but it’s going to take me a while to process everything I learned on the way.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, in spite of the gravity in his stare. “Zael personally assured me that you could be trusted with the information. He’s never let the Order down yet. I expect he won’t where you’re concerned.”
