"Then again," Gideon interjected, "it may be more important than ever for us to stand with the GNC, show the human public that their panic is without merit, and the Order is on their side. Show the world that we can be trusted as a partner in the effort toward peace between our races."
Lucan saw Gabrielle and a few others nod in agreement. He knew they were probably right, but at the moment it was difficult to rein in the part of him that was ancient and answered to no one. The leader who, for centuries now, was accustomed to making the rules and, when called for, enforcing them with unstoppable might.
And right now, the last thing he gave a damn about was making a group public appearance at the summit, just to demonstrate solidarity with the GNC, whose members were apparently all too willing to throw the Order under the bus, or with the humans, who may never see the Breed as anything more than bogeymen just waiting for the opportunity to rip out their throats.
Diplomacy had never been his strong suit, and tonight it chafed more than ever.
Lucan curbed his internal aggression and paused to address Gideon. "Any leads on the name Nathan supplied us - this rebel bastard, Bowman?"
"I got zip so far," Gideon replied. "Bowman's kept his nose clean, that's for sure. I've dug everywhere I can for the guy - criminal activity, arrest records . . . no hard data on him anywhere. He's like a ghost."
Renata lifted her head, jade green eyes snapping with fury. "Meanwhile, he's got my child. If he's harmed Mira in any way - if he's . . . touched her . . . I want to be the one to personally eviscerate him."
"Not if I get to the son of a bitch first, babe," Niko said, his tone gentle, but his gaze lit up with amber rage.
Rio spoke next. "I say we gear up and head to Boston - the two of us, my friend. We'll hunt down this Bowman and the vermin he runs with, and when we find him, we'll make them dine on bullets and steel."
Lucan felt the same cold need to personally be the one to cut off the head of the enemy who'd taken one of the Order's own kin. That Bowman had also orchestrated Ackmeyer's abduction and death, inciting riots and jeopardizing the summit at the same time, only made Lucan's blood chill all the more.
As he considered the justice he would exact from the elusive rebel leader, Lucan's comm unit buzzed in his pants pocket. Who now? he wondered irritably, then barked out a curse when he saw who was calling him.
"Jesus f**king Christ," he snarled. "Bad enough I've been fielding calls all night from Council members, JUSTIS officials, and press. Now I've got that blowhard Reginald Crowe looking for a piece of me?"
Like a dog marking territory, the arrogant tycoon had been busy making sure he seized every opportunity to stake his claim on the summit. Hosting the pricey gala apparently wasn't enough for Crowe. He had also recently announced the unveiling of a sculpture commemorating First Dawn and the peace summit, presenting it as a gift to be installed at GNC headquarters during the gathering. Given Crowe's inflated sense of self-worth, Lucan wouldn't be at all surprised if the piece was a life-size statue of the man himself.
Lucan ignored Crowe's call, putting the device on silent and shoving it back into his pocket on another ripe curse.
It wasn't even a moment later that Darion appeared in the open doorway of the drawing room. Lucan could tell just from a glimpse at the young warrior's serious expression that more shit was about to rain down on them.
"What is it, son?"
"Director Benson," Dare replied, his deep voice tight with barely restrained outrage. "He's just made a public statement. It's on all the news outlets right now. The GNC was offered - and has accepted - a private security detail from Crowe Enterprises for the summit gathering. According to Benson, Crowe's team will augment and oversee the Order's involvement, effective immediately."
A few of the Breedmates gasped, punctuating the other, more vivid responses from the rest of the warriors gathered in the room.
Lucan grunted. "We'll see about that." While he absorbed the bullshit development with an air of stone-cold fortitude, inside he was seething. And the brunt of his contempt settled on the unknown face of the rebel leader who'd incited this entire fiasco.
Lucan grabbed his comm unit and hit Nathan's number. "Head into base now and await further command. This kill op is gonna go full-scale mission, with as many teams on the ground as needed to find Bowman and bring Mira home. He and his rebels need to be shut down hard, preferably in full public view. And I mean they need to be shut down permanently."
Kellan sat alone on the cool, moonlit thatch of overgrown grass that covered the stone mound of the seaside bunker. He and Mira had been back at the rebel base for several hours, after news of Jeremy Ackmeyer's death broke and the reaction in the city began to turn ugly fast. He didn't want Mira anywhere near an upset, volatile public, but Kellan was also more than a bit concerned about the prospect of an Order death squad working its way closer to him with every second.
Sooner or later, regardless of how cautious he'd been all these years, someone was going to mention the name Bowman and point a finger in the direction of the New Bedford base camp. And when that moment came, Kellan intended to meet it alone, sparing Mira and his remaining crew - his friends - from becoming collateral damage.
The fact that Cassian from La Notte insisted he'd recognized him from somewhere only increased Kellan's sense of ill ease. Ignoring the fact that the club owner had betrayed nothing of himself to Kellan's Breed talent, Kellan got the clear sense that the man was dangerous. Perhaps all the more so because he'd proven unreadable.
Kellan hadn't had a lot of time to worry about what his encounter with Cassian might mean down the road. His more pressing concerns were Mira and the handful of people who were counting on him to protect them. To lead them, even though he had never felt less equipped to navigate a safe course through what was becoming a fast-rising tide of wreckage.