Dragos and his alien sire had made a pact. Instead of killing the vampire, Dragos had helped to hide him away.
It wasn't until sometime later, after Dragos was mortally injured in combat, that he chose to spill his secret to Marek. But the bastard wouldn't surrender all of it. Dragos refused to give Marek the location of the crypt where the Ancient slept in a state of prolonged hibernation.
Marek's rage over that omission had been uncontrollable. He put a blade to Dragos's neck, and with one furious blow, he sent the vampire-- and that crucial bit of information--to the grave.
Marek had gone after the only other person who might have been of use to him: Dragos's Breedmate Kassia. But the female was shrewd, and in the moment her mate perished at Marek's hand, she must have known the same danger would soon be coming to her doorstep.
By the time Marek arrived at Dragos's castle to drain the secret out of her--literally, as it were--Kassia had thwarted him by taking her own life.
In the time since, Marek had been on a single-minded quest to find Dragos's secret. He'd willingly tortured and killed for it. He'd long ago tossed away his honor, pretended his own death, and betrayed his kin, all for the chance to be the one to unleash the ancient terror and use it to serve his own whims.
Finally, after an endless time of searching, he'd recently come upon the first truly useful clue: it was the name of Odolf, a Breed family from the Old Times who'd had ties with Dragos's mate, Kassia. She had given them something of great worth all those centuries ago, but not even torture had given Marek the answers he needed.
And now the Order was getting closer to the truth every moment. Marek's jaw clamped tight at the thought. He hadn't worked this hard, waited this long, just to let everything slip through his fingers. He refused to consider it might even be a possibility.
He was going to win.
The real battle was only beginning.
A few minutes after they arrived at the compound, Tegan showed Elise to his quarters so she could shower and relax while he headed for the tech lab, where the Order had assembled at his request. As he walked in, Lucan gave him a knowing nod from where he stood next to Gideon at the bank of computers. Niko, Kade, and Brock sat around the table at the center of the room, the two newbies fitting right in as they traded gibes with Dante and Chase about the week's Rogue tallies and which of them had the sharper eye.
But it was the sight of Rio that made Tegan's mouth lift in surprise and satisfaction. The Spaniard leaned against the back wall of the lab, apart from the others, broody but alert. Determination rolled off him like an electrical charge. He lifted his chin to acknowledge Tegan's arrival, the scarred side of his face stretching taut with his grim smile.
The once-lively topaz eyes were flinty now, sober as the grave.
Tegan looked at his brethren, some of whom had fought at his side for centuries, others who had yet to be truly tested, and he couldn't help feeling a sense of pride to be included among their ranks. For a long time, he'd thought of himself as being alone in this war. Sure, Lucan and the others always had his back, as he had theirs, but Tegan fought every battle as if it belonged to him alone.
He'd lived every day wallowing in his own dark isolation...until a courageous beauty taught him not to fear the light. Now that he'd found her, he wanted to make sure the darkness he'd known would never touch her.
And that meant keeping her safe from Marek.
What's the word out of Petrov Odolf? Lucan asked as Tegan set his duffel bag of gear down on the table.
Most of the time, the word is crazy. The rest of the time, he's catatonic. Tegan pulled out the handwritten pages they'd gotten from Irina. He handed them to Lucan. Before he went Rogue, Odolf had been writing compulsively and in secret. Evidently his brother, who also went Rogue sometime before him, had been obsessed with a similar habit. Look familiar?
Shit. The same thing we found in the journal Marek was after.
Tegan nodded. Odolf said something odd in one of his rare moments of clarity. When Elise and I asked him what the riddle meant, he said, That's where he's hiding.'
That's where who's hiding? Gideon asked, taking the pages from Lucan and giving them a quick visual scan. He read one of the verses aloud. Does this reference some kind of location?
Maybe. Odolf wouldn't say. Maybe he doesn't know. Tegan shrugged. That's all he gave us, just started rambling after that. We didn't get any further with him.
Dante came out of his loose recline at the table, putting his feet down on the floor with a thump. Whatever it means, it's big enough to get Marek's interest. No good ever came out of that. And he's willing to kill anyone who gets in his way, Tegan added. After he found out we were in Berlin, Marek put out orders to some of his Minions in the city to kill Elise. One of them got damn close.
Son of a bitch, Lucan hissed, his features hardening in anger.
She injured the bastard and thankfully managed to get away. That night I went out and finished him off. Tegan felt Chase's stare from across the room, and he turned a sincere look on the male. Elise has become...very precious to me. I'm not about to let anything happen to her. I'd give my life to keep her safe.
Chase looked at him for a long while, then he nodded tightly. What about the glyph you found in the journal? That symbol belonged to one of the first warriors, didn't it--a Gen One male called Dragos?
Yeah, Tegan said. There's got to be a connection, but I'm not sure what it is. I know Dragos is dead. Lucan can vouch for that since he saw the body.
The Order's leader inclined his head in agreement. His Breedmate saw it too. Evidently seeing her mate dead must have been too much for Kassia. That same night, she took her own life.
Nikolai grunted. So, what have we got to work with here? Our own Romeo and Juliet scenario, a batshit Rogue talking riddles, a dead- end glyph scribbled into the margin of a musty old book, and Marek somehow in the middle of it all.
Get to Marek, and you'll start getting answers, Dante put in, his voice low and deadly.