They'd invited war when they raided his gathering outside Montreal this past summer, sending him and his private inner circle of high-ranking Breed associates fleeing into the woods like rats off a sinking ship. It had been a public sucker-punch that undermined his authority, not to mention cost him precious time. He would see the warriors pay for that. But Dragos had another problem, too. He brought up the teleconferencing program on his computer and dialed Wilhelm Roth's quarters at the other end of the stronghold. The German vampire, a hard-edged director of the Hamburg Enforcement Agency, was doubtless unaccustomed to playing the subordinate, and Dragos took some amusement in the notion that the midmorning wakeup call would grate the male. To his credit, he picked up the call before the second ring, efficient as always. It was one of his saving graces as far as Dragos was concerned. That, and the fact that Roth was ruthless in his ambitions. "Sire," he said, his face moving in front of the monitor in his chambers.
"How can I serve?" "Status," Dragos demanded, staring hard at his lieutenant. Roth cleared his throat. "Everything is arranged. The operation's first strike began last evening. It should not be long before we have engagement." Dragos grunted his approval. "And the other matter?" There was a moment's hesitation, but that was all. Dragos wondered if Roth knew that his honesty right now was the only thing keeping him alive. Roth cleared his throat. "I am dealing with something of a... a personal situation in Hamburg, sire." "Yes," Dragos said, no need for coyness. He'd heard all about the devastating assault on two of the German's residences from other contacts overseas. He'd also heard that Roth's Breedmate was missing. After a confrontation with Enforcement Agents at Roth's private office in Hamburg, she was presumed to have been abducted by the vampire who evidently had something of a bone to pick with Roth. A vampire with rumored ties to the Order. Dragos's jaw went tight with anger as he considered the many ways a scenario like that could land a lot of troubles on his doorstep. "What do you intend to do, Herr Roth?" "It will be handled, sire." "See that it is," Dragos hissed. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that the female is a liability now.
If she's in enemy hands, then she is nothing more than a weapon to be used against you. And against me." Roth stared, his shrewd eyes narrowed. "She has no idea where I am. I've never confided in her about anything of importance. Besides, she knows her place when it comes to my affairs." "And how long do you think it will take her captor to find you through your blood bond with her?" Dragos asked. "If they use her to find you, they find me, as well." "That won't happen, sire." "I require a permanent solution to this," Dragos said, knowing what he asked of the male. "Are you prepared to carry that out, Herr Roth?" The German smiled coldly. "Consider it done, sire." Dragos nodded. "Good. Obviously, so long as the female is breathing, your presence is poison to this operation. Remove yourself to Boston until you can assure me that you've eliminated this problem. Be gone by sundown, Herr Roth." The vampire inclined his head in a deferential nod. "Of course, sire. As you wish."
Chapter Eleven
Afew hours after they left the Internet caf? in Hamburg to board a train to Denmark, Claire and Andreas were being escorted to a rural village Darkhaven, courtesy of the Order. Their contact, a beautiful blond Breedmate named Danika, had taken them into her living quarters like family of her own--all warmth and hospitality, no questions asked. "I hope you don't mind cozy," she said as she walked them into a cheery kitchen located off the back door. "We've only got one spare bedroom and bath, but you're welcome to it." The farmhouse where Danika lived with her baby boy, Connor, and one other mated couple was small by Darkhaven standards. Usually members of the Breed population lived in mansions or large brownstones, sometimes the occasional high-rise apartment building. Darkhavens generally comprised tight-knit communities of a dozen or so inpiduals, everyone looking out for one another like kin, even if they were unrelated by blood. But Danika's living arrangements weren't the only unusual thing about her. She was mother to a very young child, a sweet baby boy with her fair coloring and the unmistakably strong genes of a father who was Breed. She hadn't mentioned a mate, and there seemed to be an air of wistfulness about the woman, especially when she was looking at her son. Like now, when little Connor was leaning out of Danika's arms to point emphatically at Andreas. The boy's big blue eyes were wide and eager, while Andreas's gaze was shadowed by the furrow of his brow.
"I'm sorry," Danika said to him. "It's the dermaglyph peeking over the top of your collar. Connor has become fascinated by them in the past couple of weeks." Andreas grunted and gave a nod to the Breed youngster. "He recognizes his own kind already. Smart boy." Danika beamed. "Yes, he is." Claire watched in quiet surprise as Andreas pushed up his sleeve to reveal more of his Breed skin markings, to Connor's obvious delight. The vampire toddler reached out with his pudgy little hand and patted the beautiful swirls and arcs that ran along Andreas's muscled forearm. "Da," he exclaimed. "Da! Da!" "Oh!" Danika's milky complected cheeks went instantly bright pink. "No, sweetheart, this isn't your father. Oh, God... I'm sorry. How embarrassing." Claire laughed and Andreas chuckled, too. "It's all right," he said. "I assure you, I've been called much worse." Danika smiled, but that trace of sorrow was back in her eyes. "Connor's father, Conlan, was a warrior with the Order. He was killed on a mission in Boston before Connor was born." "I'm so sorry," Claire murmured, realizing how fresh the loss still was, since Danika's son was probably not even two years old. Danika gave a mild shrug, cleared her throat. "After I lost Conlan, I went to Scotland--his homeland--to have Connor. I thought I might stay there permanently and raise our son in the highlands Conlan loved so much, but being in his country without him only made me miss him more. I came back home to Denmark last year." Andreas smoothed his broad palm over the top of Connor's pale blond head. "He would be proud of you, Danika, no matter where you choose to raise his son."