None of the humans out there had the first clue about the war that was rising within the Breed. Few in the Darkhavens knew either. Those who were in a position to know of Rogue conflicts chose to turn a blind eye, trusting politics and protocol to keep things in their proper place. Everyone went about their lives, oblivious, comfortably ignorant, while Tegan and the other members of the Order dirtied their hands and risked their lives to maintain the fragile peace within the Breed and its dependent link to humankind.
She had been one of those sheltered many. When she looked across the table at handsome, sophisticated Reichen, she was reminded how easy her life had been before. She had lived in the cushioned lap of wealth and privilege as Quentin Chase’s mate. A part of her realized how easy it would be to return to that kind of existence, to pretend she’d never seen the terrible things she’d witnessed outside the Darkhavens these past several months, or done the terrible things she’d convinced herself she had to do in vengeance for Camden’s death.
A cowardly part of her wondered if it might not be too late to go back to her old life and forget she’d ever met the warrior called Tegan.
The answer came in the quickening of her pulse, a stirring that flared at just the thought of him.
Her blood would never forget him, no matter how far she ran. And neither would her heart.
“Would you prefer to try another dish?” Reichen asked, leaning over the table to touch her hand. “I can call the waiter over if you—”
“No. No, there’s no need for that,” she assured him, feeling rude and unappreciative of his kindness. Tegan probably didn’t need her concern. He certainly wouldn’t want it. She couldn’t turn off her feelings for him, but that didn’t mean she had to let them consume her. “Thank you for bringing me here, Andreas. I can’t remember the last time I had such wonderful food and wine. Quentin and I enjoyed nice dinners together, but since his death, I guess I never really saw any reason to go to the effort.”
Reichen gave her a mock scowl, as if he’d never heard a more preposterous thing. “There is always a reason to enjoy all of life’s pleasures, Elise. I personally do not believe in deprivation. Not in any shape or form.”
Elise smiled, knowing he was deliberately putting on the charm now. “With that kind of life philosophy, I’m betting that you have broken a lot of hearts in your time.”
“Only a few,” he admitted, grinning.
He lounged back in his seat, one arm slung over the back of the chair, his aristocratic profile etched in light by the warm glow of the candle flickering on the table. With his dark hair slipping loose of its queue, his tailored white shirt unbuttoned one more notch than was decent, Andreas Reichen had the look of an indulgent king surveying his subjects from atop his tower keep.
But there was a restless undercurrent to his practiced air of nonchalance, perhaps a trace of boredom. There was a cynical wisdom in his eyes that indicated for all his easy charm, the male had seen more darkness than he would ever let on.
Elise wondered if, despite his privilege and his obviously libertine ways, Andreas Reichen might have a bit of the warrior in him as well.
“What about Helene?” Elise couldn’t resist asking about the stunning female who wasn’t a Breedmate, yet seemed to know a great deal about the vampire nation due to her apparent relationship with Reichen. “Have you and she…known each other for a long time?”
“A few years. Helene is a friend. She is my blood Host on occasion, and we enjoy each other’s company, but it’s primarily a physical arrangement.”
“You’re not in love with her?”
He chuckled. “Helene would probably say that I love no one more than myself. Not altogether untrue, I suppose. I’ve just never met a woman who tempted me to want anything permanent. Then again, who would be mad enough to put up with me?” he asked, turning a dazzling smile on her that would have made any other woman leap up to volunteer for the task.
Elise took a sip of her wine. “I think you are a very dangerous man, Andreas Reichen. A woman would be well advised to guard her heart around you.”
He arched a brow at her, looking rakish and serious at the same time. “I would never want to break your heart, Elise.”
“Ah,” she said, tilting her glass at him in mock salute. “And now you have just further proved my point.”
Tegan arrived back at Reichen’s estate in a foul mood. The Minion who would have killed Elise was dead, and that was good enough news. But as he’d squeezed the last breath out of the human, Tegan had come away with two critical pieces of information.