The broadcast abruptly cut away from the studio. Filling the screen now was a live video feed of a twitchy looking man with a pock-marked face and a leering grin. He stood in a small office somewhere inside the theater, holding an assault rifle in his hands. He wasn’t alone. Half a dozen more gunmen stood there too, clustered in a circle around the perimeter of the room.
Kneeling in front of them in a bespoke suit festooned with a colorful sash and a lapel full of medals was a Breed male with his hands raised in surrender.
“Son of a bitch.” Gideon raked his hand over his disheveled hair. “That’s the ambassador from the Breed nation in Ireland.”
“Yes,” Lucan growled.
“What the fuck?” Darion paced closer to the twin TV screens. “Those assholes holding him are human.”
Micah realized it at the same time a cold knot of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. “And those guns are the same kind that opened fire on us outside Slake last night.”
“UV,” Jax confirmed grimly.
Scarface grinned into the camera someone was holding in front of him. “Opus Nostrum has a message they want to deliver personally to the Order, specifically to Lucan Thorne.”
Silence fell over the war room at the thug’s mention of the terror group. The Order’s wounds from the ambush suffered last night were still fresh. Now this.
“Opus demands Lucan Thorne’s immediate surrender. If he does not comply, we have instructions to start executing hostages. He has ten minutes to get here. After that, every five minutes we have to wait to take the Order’s leader into custody, we’re gonna ash another one of these fanged bastards.”
Micah glanced at Lucan, who stared at the monitors with a look of cold menace in his eyes.
“You can’t do it, Lucan.” Tegan’s voice broke the awful quiet in the war room.
“He’s right,” Chase agreed. “There’s no negotiating with Opus.”
Brock nodded. “Especially not when they’re armed to the teeth with goddamn UV rounds.”
On screen, the gunman’s ugly face broke into a manic grin. “One dead bloodsucker every five minutes. And just so you know we’re serious, here’s a little teaser.”
The handheld camera swung away from Scarface and toward the pleading ambassador. Then gunfire cracked from all of the Opus foot soldiers, bullets ripping into their target. The liquid UV went to work instantly. Mercilessly. The Breed victim’s screams of agony filled the war room, before falling into a hideous silence as his body was consumed.
Then the screens went black.
CHAPTER 21
Phaedra hardly recognized the woman staring back at her in the full-length mirror of her guest room.
On a whim, she’d given in to the urge to try on the outfit of black fatigues and combat boots, expecting to feel awkward in the warriors’ attire. Instead, she felt . . . empowered. She felt a little badass.
More than a little.
She could hardly tamp down the amused smile that quirked her lips as she smoothed her hands over the form-fitting, long-sleeved black shirt. The rugged black pants Brynne had given her were a couple of inches too long, so she’d tucked them into the tops of her lug-soled black leather boots.
She laughed when she imagined what Tamisia’s reaction might be to seeing her normally reserved, tea-loving friend dressed like a full-fledged member of the Order. All that was missing was a weapons belt bristling with daggers and firearms.
An urgent knock sounded on the other side of her closed door, accompanied by Brynne’s voice, brisk with alarm. “Phaedra? Are you here? I need to speak to you. It’s urgent.”
She hurried over and opened the door. The daywalker’s gaze took her in with a swift up-and-down. If she had questions about her change of attire, it didn’t appear there was time to ask them.
“Something awful’s happening in the city. A gang of Opus followers have taken control of a building downtown. They’ve got hostages—Breed dignitaries and other civilians. They say they’re willing to release them, but they want Lucan in exchange.”
“Oh, no.” Phaedra’s heart sank.
Brynne’s expression took on an even graver look. “Phaedra, there are more than a dozen of them that we know of, and they’re all armed with UV rounds. Just a moment ago, they ashed one of the dignitaries on live video. They’ve threatened to kill one hostage every five minutes they have to wait for Lucan’s surrender.”
Phaedra swallowed. “What can I do to help?”
Brynne flashed a brief, but relieved, smile. “I was hoping you’d say that. Come on.”
