She stared at him, trying to make sense of what she'd just witnessed. In the end all she could manage was a trembling couple of words. "Holy shit."
LUCAN PACED the confines of his bedroom, edgy and restless, despite the physical satisfaction of his body. It was early morning outside the temporary compound's sheltering walls and shuttered windows. Christmas, for f**k's sake.
He didn't feel like celebrating. He felt like strapping on weapons and combat gear and taking this damned war straight into Dragos's face. He wanted it ended, preferably with Dragos under his boot heel, bleeding and broken, begging for mercy he would never receive. He wanted that with a ferocity he could barely contain.
All the more so when he considered the promise he'd given Gabrielle in the hours they'd lain together, making love in the bed where she slept now, as sweet and lovely as a dream. At the next crescent moon cycle, Lucan would give her a son.
As much as he'd been fighting the idea, there was a part of him that had wanted it as much as she did. Maybe more. For nine long centuries, he'd walked alone by his own choosing. He'd had his warrior brethren, but family - a Breedmate and children - was nothing he'd ever craved. Until an auburn-haired beauty with melting brown eyes and the fearless heart of a lioness had strode into his world and laid all his intentions to waste in an instant.
He'd never imagined he could love so fully, so completely. His dread of an unknown future was hardly a match for his devotion to the incredible female who'd taken him as her mate. And as Tegan said, knowing the world they were fighting for belonged to their sons only made his determination burn all the brighter to see it thrive in peace.
Lucan walked back to the bed and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. The brief brush of his lips made her stir, then smile, still caught in a light slumber. "Good morning," he murmured softly. "Sleep, love. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm heading down to the tech lab for a while to review some of the intel that came in from New Orleans."
"It's a holiday," she reminded him, her voice thick and drowsy. Far too inviting, as she stretched with feline grace and rolled onto her back to face him. "Come back to bed?"
God, he was tempted. "I'll only be a couple of hours. I want to put in some time while the rest of the house is asleep. You rest, and I'll come back before too long."
Her answering moan was languid and breathless. It made him want to crawl under the covers and make her do it again. Preferably as she cl**axed against his mouth.
He stepped away from the bed and pulled on a fresh black T-shirt and fatigues. Gabrielle was already fast asleep once more, her breath puffing softly between her parted lips. He smiled, content simply to look at her.
Christ, he had it bad for her.
And he wouldn't want it any other way.
He was still smiling like a love-struck fool as he walked out to the corridor and silently closed the bedroom door behind him. Another door opened down the way and Mira came sneaking out on her toes, her pink nightgown swishing around her ankles as she hurried up the hall.
Her flaxen hair was a wild tangle on her bed-rumpled head, her eyes half-closed and bleary with sleep. She ran headlong, practically blind with purpose as she crashed right into him. "Oh!" she gasped as he caught her in both hands and kept her from bouncing off her feet. "I thought I heard Santa out here."
"Not Santa." Lucan chuckled and stooped down to her level. "Just ... me ..."
As he brushed the tousled mop of hair from her face, Mira's eyes met his. He'd been expecting to see the opaque violet of her custom-made contact lenses. Lenses that had been specially crafted to mute the young Breedmate's talent for prognostication. Instead, Lucan found himself staring into the clear, mirrorlike pools of the child seer's powerful gaze.
A vision slammed into his brain like a bullet.
Blood-soaked.
Horrific.
"Oh, no!" Mira cried. She realized her mistake at once, bringing her hands up to shield him from the power of her eyes. "My lenses. I forgot to put them in. Lucan, I'm sorry!"
"Shh," Lucan soothed as she burst into tears. He pulled her close, offering a comforting embrace as the little girl sobbed with remorse. "It's all right, Mira. You did nothing wrong." She drew back, careful now to hold her arm up over her eyes. "What did you see, Lucan? Was it something bad?"
"No," he lied. "It was nothing. Don't you worry, everything's all right."
But even as he spoke, a pit of black, yawning dread cracked wide open inside him.
Mira's gift had just shown him a glimpse of a future more bleak than anything he'd imagined in the worst of his countless nightmare scenarios.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
"ONE MORE VIAL and that should do it, Tavia," Gideon said from the other side of his makeshift tech lab. "How you hanging in over there, Harvard?"
Chase grunted his response, all he was capable of as he watched the other warrior withdraw the last of half a dozen blood samples he'd collected from Tavia's arm. Chase felt like a pu**y having to sit clear across the room during the clinical procedure, trying his damnedest not to let the sight of those filling vials awaken his feral side. His fangs had erupted from his gums at the first pinprick that scored her skin, his hunger worsening to a fevered throb at the trace exotic scent of her blood.
Hard as it was for him to be there when his body was taut and on edge with thirst, sitting it out in the hallway while Tavia was run through a variety of exams and tissue samplings was out of the question.
Fortunately, Gideon kept everything quick and efficient.
"All set," he announced a moment later.