That job was going to prove a lot harder if the secret realm of the Breed—and the escalating trouble within it—were suddenly exposed to humankind by way of a curious reporter who’d somehow wandered into the middle of all this.
“Got an interesting call from Prague tonight,” Gideon said. “Rio’s back on grid.”
Nikolai’s tawny brows crashed together. “He’s not in Spain? When did he get back to Prague?”
“Doesn’t sound like he ever left. He ran into some trouble there, in the form of an American reporter. She knows about the cave. She’s been inside the Ancient’s hibernation chamber. Took a bunch of pictures too, evidently.”
“What the fuck? When did all this go down?”
“I don’t have all the details yet. Rio’s working on getting the situation secured. He and the woman are on their way to Reichen’s place in Berlin as we speak. He’s going to report in once he arrives so we can determine how to best contain this potential disaster.”
“Shit.” Brock exhaled, running a hand over his dark brow. “Rio’s actually still breathing, eh? Gotta say, I’m surprised. Since he’s been AWOL for so long, I kind of expected he wasn’t coming back, you know what I’m saying? Edgy guy like that, seemed to me like a prime candidate to off himself.”
“Maybe he should have,” Kade put in, chuckling. “I mean, hell, we’ve got Chase and Niko to contend with already. Does the Order really need another raving lunatic in the ranks?”
Nikolai sprang on the other warrior like a viper. There was no warning, no hint that Niko was going to grab Kade’s throat in his hand and slam the big male up against the wall of the corridor. He was seething with defensive anger as he held Kade in a near death grip.
“Jesus Christ!” Kade hissed, clearly as shocked as anyone else by the unexpected reaction. “It was just a joke, man!”
Nikolai snarled. “Do you see me laughing? Do I look like I’m fucking laughing?”
Kade’s sharp silver eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything else to provoke him.
“I could give a damn what you say about me,” Niko growled, “but if you know what’s good for you, lay the hell off Rio.”
Gideon might have guessed this wasn’t about Kade unintentionally insulting Nikolai. It was about Niko’s friendship with Rio. The two warriors had been as close as true brothers in the time before the warehouse explosion that left Rio scarred and broken. Afterward, it was Niko who made sure Rio fed, Niko who dragged Rio’s ass out of the infirmary to train in the compound’s weapons facility as soon as the wounded warrior was able to stand up.
It had been Nikolai who argued the most vehemently every time Rio announced that he was too far gone to be useful and he was pulling out of the Order. In the nearly five months that Rio had been currently off grid, not a week passed that Niko didn’t ask if there had been any word from him.
“Niko, damn, buddy,” Brock said. “Ease up.”
The huge black warrior moved in, looking like he was about to peel him off Kade, but Gideon held him back with a look. Although Nikolai relaxed his grip, his anger was still a palpable force filling the hallway.
“You don’t know dick about Rio,” he told Kade. “That warrior has more honor than the both of us combined. So this is the last time I want to hear you talking shit about him. Understand?”
Kade nodded tightly. “Yeah. Like I said, it was just a damn joke. I didn’t mean any offense.”
Nikolai stared at him for a long moment, then stalked away in silence.
CHAPTER
Eight
D awn was inching up over the horizon as the delivery truck from Prague wheeled into a gated, heavily secured lakefront estate on the outskirts of Berlin.
The Darkhaven was held by a Breed vampire named Andreas Reichen, a civilian, but also a trusted ally of the Order since he’d assisted with the discovery of the mountain cave a few months ago. Rio had only met him briefly that past February, but the German greeted him like an old friend as he came around to the back of the truck and opened the trailer door.
“Welcome,” he said, then sent an anxious glance up at the pinkening sky overhead. “You made excellent time.”
The male was dressed in an impeccably tailored suit and a pristinely pressed white shirt that lay unbuttoned at the throat. With his thick chestnut hair loose around his shoulders, the perfect waves setting off his striking, angular features, Reichen looked like he’d just come off a photo shoot for a men’s designer ad.