"You said you needed proof, like you thought I was trying to trick you or something." There was a note of hurt in her tone. "How come you never believe anything I say?"
Kellan looked uncomfortable under the public accusation. When he finally spoke, his voice was quietly defensive. "It's stupid to take anyone on faith alone."
"Even your friends?"
He didn't answer, and while their argument faded into a silent standoff, the other boy, who was still studying Tavia's glyphs, moved closer. He had pushed up his own sleeve, revealing a similar pattern that swept around the lean muscles and tendons of his forearm.
His name was Nathan, and aside from his introduction as Corinne's son, the inscrutable young teen was a mystery. Tavia watched his long-lashed eyes take in her skin markings, cataloging them, one by one. He was serious and strangely detached, seeming vastly older than his years and nothing like any other boy she'd ever seen before.
When he glanced up at her, head cocked to the side, his blue-green eyes pierced her with the cool dispassion of a blade. "You are Gen One. Born in Dragos's laboratory."
She nodded.
"So was I."
The softly voiced confession sparked an instant kinship in her, and Tavia felt the absurd urge to hug the child who'd also been a victim of Dragos's evil. She wanted to talk with Nathan some more, ask him about his experience with the monster who created them, but the hauntedness of his gaze deepened, then was shuttered behind his dark lashes and gone altogether when he looked up at her again.
At that same moment, from a room down the corridor, Tegan and another warrior emerged and strode into the gathering in the foyer. Simply by breathing, the dark-haired male with Tegan commanded attention and respect, and there was no question that he was the leader of the Order, even before Tegan introduced him as such.
"Lucan, this is Tavia Fairchild."
She accepted the warrior's large hand and felt herself immersed in the stormy scrutiny of Lucan's shrewd gray eyes as he clasped her fingers in a firm, callused hold. "Mathias Rowan has filled us in on the basics, but I'm sure you understand we'll have questions for you now that you're here."
"Of course. Whatever I can do," she replied. "I need some answers myself."
He gave her a grim nod as he released her hand. "Until then, you'll be staying here, under the Order's protection. That means you remain on the grounds of this property at all times, and you make contact with no one beyond these walls without my express permission."
"Okay." It sounded a lot like imprisonment, but it was hard to balk at the offer when she had so few other options. Besides, she'd lived the first part of her life in one form of prison; now at least she had the truth. And she had Chase too. She felt him near her now, his presence behind her a warm comfort despite his radiating tension like a furnace.
Lucan sent a measuring look over her shoulder at him. "Unfortunately, we're in tight quarters and down to the last unclaimed room - "
"I don't need it." Chase's reply was dark and defensive, despite the negligent shrug that accompanied it. "I'm sure there's a locked cell with my name on it somewhere in here." "That'll depend on you, Harvard."
"And we can figure all of this out later." The smooth female voice came from behind the group in the foyer, turning all heads her way. Tavia glanced at the auburn-haired beauty whose soulful brown eyes were fixed on Lucan alone. She was his mate; the palpable energy connecting the pair left no doubt. "You must be Tavia," she said, stepping forward to greet her with a welcoming smile. "I'm Gabrielle."
"Hello."
Gabrielle moved over to Lucan and twined her fingers through his. "Tess and Dante are waiting in the sanctuary with the others. Are you coming?"
Lucan inclined his head, brushing the back of his hand gently along the slope of her cheek. Such a simple gesture, and yet there was so much devotion in his eyes, it stole Tavia's breath. "Whatever you want, love. I mean that. As you just said, we can figure the rest out later." She stared up into his gaze for a long moment, a question hanging between them unspoken. Then a tender smile broke across her face, warm and joyful and meant for him alone. As they embraced quietly, Mira came over and took Tavia's hand in hers. "Come on. You have to meet the baby."
"The baby?" Tavia glanced to the rest of the women for explanation.
"Tess and Dante's newborn son, Xander Raphael," Renata replied. "He's not quite a week old now, and tonight he's being officially presented to his godparents. It's a tradition within the Breed."
"You're welcome to attend," Gabrielle said. "But I'm sure you must be exhausted too, so if you'd rather rest - "
"Not at all." Amazingly, she was anything but tired, even after all she'd been through lately. Her body felt stronger, more vital than ever, no doubt thanks to her otherworldly genes and the lack of medicines keeping that part of her suppressed. She had to admit, she was more than a little curious about this new side of her, including the rituals that were part of the strange new world in which she was suddenly submerged. "If you don't think anyone would mind me being there, I'd love to attend."
"Come on, then, let's go!" Mira gave her hand an eager tug, already charging ahead of the group as they started to move out of the foyer.
Yet despite Tavia's own interest in these people and the generous welcome they were extending her, she couldn't help noticing how Chase hung back. In fact, if anything, he seemed more uncomfortable now than he had on the drive north. His unease prickled through her veins like tiny needles under her own skin.