Jordana gave a soft laugh. “Even if it were possible for you to teleport along with us, bringing a snarly, scowling Breed warrior to the colony isn’t going to make the council more comfortable.”
“I’m not always snarly and scowling.”
Her contrary-sounding hum vibrated against him. “It wasn’t a complaint on my part. I love your snarly, scowling side.”
“Careful,” he warned, “or that’s not the only side of me you’ll be stirring.”
“That sounds like a challenge I’d like to test.”
“Is that right?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth despite the fact that he wasn’t feeling particularly playful. Then again, Jordana had a way of pulling him out of all his dark moods.
He drew her closer, loosening the tie on her robe at the same time. The front of it fell open and he shoved it off her completely, sucking in a hiss as the heat of her naked body seared him through his clothing. She felt so good, so soft and warm. A spike of need ripped through his veins, making his fangs punch out of his gums while the rest of him went hard as steel against her.
Nathan brought his hands up her sides, spearing his fingers into her hair as he took her mouth in a hungry kiss. The sound she made nearly undid him. When he pulled back from her mouth she was smiling.
“Challenge accepted, then?” she asked, grinding her nudity against his arousal.
Nathan chuckled darkly. “I’m filthy from patrols and you’re fresh from a bath. Wouldn’t you prefer I clean up for you first?”
Her gaze held his with smoky desire as she shook her head, making her unbound hair dance around her bare shoulders and arms. “All I want right now is you, Nathan.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he growled against her lips as he kissed her.
He took her down with him onto their bed, his love and need for her eclipsing all the ugliness of the past hours . . . and the dread he knew he’d be feeling once it was time to watch her leave for the colony without him.
CHAPTER 10
As soon as the sun went down that following night, Darion and the rest of the Order hit the streets.
Rogue violence was still rampant all over, but Lucan’s longtime comrades had each committed to joining the effort to search for him while their warrior teams held down the forts in their various districts. Chase and Tavia, Tegan and Elise, Rio and Dylan had been among the first to arrive.
Dante had also come with his Breedmate, Tess, whose background in medicine had been immediately put to use in treating Gabrielle. When Darion checked in on his mother before leaving for patrols, she’d been sleeping almost peacefully under a strong sedative Tess had administered.
As for Darion himself, there could be no peace until he’d located his father. So far, he and the team accompanying him on the search had covered more than twenty square miles of D.C. with little to show for it.
Each time they encountered a Rogue on the street or hunkered down in some murky shithole feeding on fresh human prey, Darion held his breath, torn between hoping it was Lucan and praying to hell it wasn’t.
Each time he fired one of the Rogue-smoking titanium rounds from his pistol, he wondered how long his father could be expected to survive in the grip of Bloodlust before one of those bullets might seem like a mercy.
Fuck.
The not knowing was a torture of its own. Seeing his fellow warriors--his father’s closest friends and brethren--look to him for direction and leadership was nothing he’d ever aspired to, either.
He thought back on all the conversations he’d had with his father about wanting to be in the thick of the action, not simply studying strategy and diplomacy in books and theory. How many times had he pressed for the chance to prove himself in combat as one of the warriors?
He had trained hard for it, been ready for a long time.
He’d never meant for the responsibility to come to him like this, though.
As he and his patrol unit combed a residential area lined with a mixture of suburban houses, Darion’s instincts began to prickle with warning. There was nothing overtly suspicious about the modest brick Tudor-style home that sat quietly at the end of the cul-de-sac. Like most of its neighbors, its interior lights were darkened and shades pulled closed according to curfew, yet something about the place gave him pause.
He’d been born with his mother’s ability to sense the presence of Breed activity from a healthy distance, and right now those senses were clanging like church bells.
Silently, he motioned to his comrades to split up and surround the house.
Nathan led Rafe and Jax around to the back, while Tegan and Brock joined Darion as he prowled toward the front of the home. There was no need for extrasensory abilities to signal the place was currently occupied by Rogues. Darion could smell spilled blood and death before he got within shouting distance of the house.
The other warriors registered the stench too.
