Being one of that immortal race, Jordana carried the same hidden mark in the center of her palms since her twenty-fifth birthday several days ago. She had the same extraordinary powers, which she and the rest of the Order were still attempting to fully understand.
She lowered her hand as the glow dimmed. “I don’t know if Zael’s received any of my attempts to find him, but I’ll keep trying.”
“Good,” Lucan said. “I need to meet this immortal face-to-face as soon as possible. I’ll be ready on a moment’s notice to make it happen.”
Aric frowned thoughtfully, then leaned away from Carys, toward her friend. “Do that again with your hand, Jordana. I want to try something.”
Chase and Tavia exchanged a hesitant look. Even Nathan’s face was grave with caution. “Be careful, Aric. We’re still trying to assess the full scope of Jordana’s new powers.”
As her mate spoke, Jordana lifted her palm. The symbol in the middle of it began to appear again, gradually lighting with an otherworldly, internal fire.
Aric moved closer, studying it. “So, this is some kind of Atlantean communication device?”
“I guess so,” Jordana said. “Among other things.”
He grunted, and put his face near the ember-bright glow. Then he chuckled. “E.T., phone home.”
Carys punched the muscled bulk of his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”
But she laughed anyway. So did Jordana. God, Carys thought, how long had it been since she’d smiled with her twin brother? How long since she’d laughed with him over stupid jokes only the two of them could appreciate?
If her coming down to the command center today had done nothing else, it had at least thawed some of the ice that had gathered between her and Aric over her relationship with Rune. She’d missed him since their falling out.
Lucan cleared his throat and all eyes returned to the Order’s leader. “Speaking of following hunches, I’m interested to hear more about Brynne’s suspicions concerning Neville Fielding. If there’s reason to believe the London GNC representative warrants a closer look, I want the Order heading things up and I want to move on that as soon as possible. I’ll need Brynne to tell me everything she knows or suspects about Fielding, if she’s around.”
“She’s upstairs,” Carys volunteered, looking to her parents. “Shall I go get her?”
At their nod, she rose. Jordana did too. “I’ll go with you.”
Carys and her friend stepped into the corridor and began the walk back up to the Darkhaven mansion.
Jordana blew out a soft breath. “I never would’ve thought to look into Crowe’s portfolio records at the museum, Car. Was his collection listed in the general inventory catalogue?”
“Ah, not the general one, no.”
Jordana’s eyes widened. “The chief curator’s account? How did you . . . Never mind, I’m sure I don’t want to know.”
“Probably better that way.” Carys smirked. “You’ll have plausible deniability in case anyone notices the after-hours login on her account. And anyway, I only started with the curator’s files. I found Crowe’s trust listed in the conservation department files.”
Jordana slowly shook her head. “With sleuthing skills like those and your steel-trap mind, what are you doing assisting me with exhibits and patron receptions? You should be putting your talents to use in more important ways. Have you ever thought about—”
Carys slanted her an arch look. “Working for the Order? That seems to be coming up a lot lately.”
“Does it sound that awful to you?”
Carys shrugged, wishing it did sound awful. “I’m not in the market for a new job. I enjoy what I do at the MFA with you. Besides, I like having my nights off. I’m sure my family would love nothing more than to make sure I never had time to be with Rune.”
“No one wants to see you get hurt, that’s all.”
“I’m a big girl. I know what I’m doing.” Except even as she said it, the small prickle of her growing doubts about Rune came to life again.
Was she heading for broken heart with him? She didn’t want to think so. She wanted to think she was as important to him as he was to her. In the time they’d been together, she’d all but convinced herself they had a future together, and that someday his need for her—his love for her—would overrule his determination to avoid any long-term entanglement.
Too often, her heart had entertained a fantasy that someday Rune would climb out of the arena and leave the brutality of the fight club behind him for good. Then they would make a life together—maybe even raise a family of their own—as a mated, blood-bonded couple.
This morning, when she had reached for those slender threads of hope, they’d disintegrated through her fingers like elusive wisps of smoke.
“I heard what happened last night,” Jordana said as they rounded a corner in the long corridor.
Confused, Carys looked at her in question.
“Last night, at La Notte. The rowdy patrons and the woman who was injured?”
“Oh. Yeah, things got out of hand and Rune shut everything down for the night and sent everyone home.”
Jordana nodded. “I’m glad he did. Rune was right, the club can’t go any longer without proper management in charge.”
“He told you that?”
“When I spoke to him earlier this morning,” Jordana said. “When he called me to make an offer to buy the club.”
Carys wasn’t sure if her feet had stopped moving in reality, or if it only felt like they had suddenly turned to lead. Her heart sank with equal heaviness. “He . . . He told you he wants to buy La Notte?”