And still she wanted more.
She wanted more, even after the next orgasm and the next. Even after she and Nikolai both were sweating and spent, she hungered for still more.
Edgar Fabien felt six pairs of shrewd, measuring eyes root on him as his secretary whispered an urgent message into his ear. An interruption at this hour - in the midst of such important company as these specially invited Breed dignitaries who'd come into Montreal from the United States and abroad - practically screamed bad news. And it was, though Fabien allowed no such outward indication.
The assembled males had been privately assessing one another as they'd arrived one by one this evening, all of them summoned to Edgar Fabien's Darkhaven residence to await transport to an exclusive gathering to take place elsewhere. To preserve their anonymity, the group had been instructed to don black hooded masks at all times. They had been forbidden to ask personal questions of one another, or to discuss their individual dealings with the Breed male who had called this meeting and laid down the terms of its covert attendance. Dragos had made it clear that now more than ever he would be watching for weakness, or for the slightest reason to deem Fabien or his other lieutenants standing in this very room unworthy of the glorious future he was planning to unveil at the formal gathering.
As the secretary whispered the rest of his message, Fabien was glad for the dark hood that concealed his reaction from the others. He kept his stance relaxed, every muscle loose and at ease, as he was informed that one of his Minions from the city was waiting outside with unanticipated, but critical, news that could not be delayed. News about a Breed male and an injured woman in his company, who, from the description, could be none other than the pair who'd escaped the containment facility.
"Will you all excuse me?" Fabien said, his smile tight beneath his disguise. "I've a small matter to attend to outside. I won't be a moment."
A few dark heads inclined as Fabien pivoted to stroll out of the room.
Once the reception room door was closed and he and his secretary had walked several yards down the long hallway, Fabien tore off his hood. "Where is he?"
"Awaiting you in the front vestibule, sir."
Fabien stormed off in that direction, wringing the black hood in his hands. As he reached the door, his secretary rushed up ahead to hold it open for him. The Minion was leaning against the wall, engrossed in chewing his fingernails down the quick, his unkempt, overlong bangs hanging into his eyes. When he looked up and saw his Master enter, the human's disgusting sloth was replaced with a hound's eagerness to please.
"I have brought you some news, Master."
Fabien grunted. "So I've heard. Speak, Curtis. Tell me what you saw."
The Minion explained how earlier in the day he'd gone to ask a question of his human employer - a homeless shelter operator who'd hired Curtis to work on his computers - and unexpectedly discovered that the vampire warrior was hiding in the shelter's garage apartment. Curtis hadn't been able to get a close look, but had gotten near enough to tell that the huge male was Breed. It wasn't until just a short while ago that he confirmed his suspicions. Apparently the warrior and the female who was with him had become rather friendly. The pair were too busy in bed to notice when Curtis later sneaked back up to the garage and spied them together through the window.
The Minion had gotten an eyeful, and was able to provide a very detailed physical description of both the warrior Nikolai and the Breedmate Renata.
"You're certain neither of them is aware that you were there?" Fabien asked.
The Minion chuckled. "No, Master. Trust me, they weren't paying attention to anything but each other."
Fabien nodded and glanced at his watch. It would be dusk within the hour. He'd already assigned a team of Enforcement Agents to head out on another cleanup task for him tonight. Perhaps he should send a second unit into the city with Curtis. Bad enough that the warrior had managed to escape him at the containment facility. The news hadn't gone over well when Fabien had informed Dragos of the problem, but the bungle would be cushioned somewhat if he could assure him that the warrior had been dealt with - swiftly and permanently.
Yes, Fabien thought, as he reached into his suit coat pocket for his cell phone and dialed the Enforcement Agency detail who reported to him.
Tonight he would clean the slate of a couple recent mistakes, and when he presented himself to Dragos at the gathering, he would do so bearing fortuitous news and a charming little gift that his new commander was certain to enjoy.
Chapter Twenty-two
Do you think he'll hurt her?"
Renata's voice was quiet, breaking the prolonged silence in the humid apartment. She was seated across from Nikolai at the card table, wearing an extra-large gray T-shirt and her own jeans, laundered and returned earlier in the day, courtesy of Jack. Her shoulder wound was looking a hell of a lot better, and every time Niko had asked, she insisted she wasn't feeling much pain. He figured his blood would carry her for a few hours at least. They'd been out of bed for a while now, both of them bathed and dressed, and carefully avoiding the subject of all that had happened between them today.
Instead, Nikolai kept himself busy cleaning and prepping Jack's twin Colt .45s, while he and Renata put plans together for their trek out to Yakut's lodge shortly. Although Niko doubted Lex would willingly cough up information on his alliance with Edgar Fabien, he had a feeling a few strategically placed rounds would loosen the bastard's tongue.
He hoped so, because without a solid lead on the Darkhaven leader's probable location, the odds of finding Mira unscathed by Fabien's twisted proclivities were diminishing by the second.