"Where?" Nathan demanded, his impasse with Rune suddenly less important in light of this crucial intel.
"Tip turned up on a rumored rebel base down in New Bedford. Scumbag gun runner sold Vince a dozen semiautos last winter. Said he only dealt with Vince, never got a look at Bowman or anyone else, but the lead on the possible base seems solid. Not much, but it's something, right?"
"Agreed," Nathan said. "Where are you at?" Eli rattled off the team's location in the city. "Okay. Rafe and I will be there in less than five minutes. Touch base with everyone else on patrol tonight, let them know we're on it. We're moving in on New Bedford, no delay."
"Got it, Captain."
They cut the call and Nathan leveled one last look on the cage-fighting killer as he shoved his comm unit back into his pocket. "Anything happens to Mira because you wouldn't talk, I will make you sorry. That goes double, anything happens to this female."
Rune's dark eyes narrowed at the threat. "I would lay down my life for Carys."
Nathan scoffed, well aware of the Breed male's dubious background and his infamous mode of living. "She's worth ten of you, and you know it."
"Aye," Rune agreed, the first indicator of the accent he usually kept muted. His returning gaze was solemn but unapologetic. "That I do know, warrior."
With Jordana Gates staring at him as if he were the devil himself standing in the middle of her apartment and Carys holding tight to Rune's large, battle-scarred hand, Nathan wheeled around and exited the penthouse.
On the way back down to the lobby to get Rafe, Nathan had to concentrate on his training in order to bring his senses back to a state of cold purpose.
He strode out of the elevator on the ground floor, and beckoned his teammate over with a curt motion of his hand. He filled Rafe in on the new development, then the pair of warriors headed out, ready to deal a lot of pain and death to Bowman and his rebel followers.
And all the while, Nathan's mouth still burned from Jordana Gates's unexpected, disturbingly unforgettable kiss.
The darkness was complete, inky blackness.
The void around her cold, silent, as Kellan drew away from both her and the blindness that enveloped her. She didn't know what he saw in her eyes now, only knew that the hideousness of her unseeing gaze had pulled him away on a violent curse.
"Kellan, I didn't want you to know," she murmured, anguished by his withdrawal. "I didn't want you to see me like this - "
"Can you see nothing at all?" His voice was wooden, edged with a fury she knew would be written across his handsome face, could her eyes find him in the dark. When she slowly shook her head, his breath left him on a groan.
Behind her, although Kellan hadn't moved, she heard the lock on the door slam home like a gunshot. She jumped, her other senses going hyperalert in the absence of her sight.
When Kellan spoke again, his voice was airless, a tightly controlled whisper. "Damn you, Mira. Damn us both, for how badly we've fucked everything up."
"Kellan, I'm sorry - "
"Don't." He cut her off shortly, but then his hands were on her upper arms, and his grip trembled, his fingers holding her tenderly. Achingly so. "Jesus, don't apologize for anything now. Not to me. I don't deserve it. Look what I've done to you."
She wanted so badly to see his face. She needed to know if the emotion she heard in his voice right now was sadness for her or the pity it sounded like. She swallowed, so afraid she was losing him - not because of the fate that threatened to steal him away from her, but because she was no longer whole in his eyes. She was broken and had no one but herself to blame.
"I can't let you live like this," he murmured, breaking her heart even further. "I need to fix it, if I can. You need blood, Mira. The bond might be able to repair this."
How long had she waited to hear him say his blood was hers to take? How many years had she pictured them together as a blood-bonded, mated pair? Now she felt his offer like a slap to her face. It stung. It hurt her so deeply, she rocked back, stricken and numbed by the blow.
"I don't want you feeling sorry for me," she managed to croak. "Don't you dare give me your charity, Kellan."
"Charity?" he murmured thickly. One of his hands came up to caress her cheek. "God, no. What I'm feeling isn't pity. It's regret. And fear. And love, Mira. So much love for you." He blew out a raspy exhalation. "I never imagined things could go so wrong for us. There were so many times I wanted to ask you to accept me as your mate. I should have, but I was terrified of the pain I would feel if I ever lost you."
"You were the one who left," she reminded him. "I stayed. I would've stayed with you, even knowing how it might all end."
"I know," he replied, remorse thick in his deep voice. "And I owed you that choice. I see that now." He scoffed quietly. "I see a lot of things more clearly now, when it's too late to turn any of it back. But maybe not this," he said, his thumb brushing gently across her eyelid as he continued to caress her face. "I might be able to fix this for you. And I'm asking you to give me that chance, Mira."
Tender, beautiful words. She could feel his affection in the quiet hitch of his voice and in the careful way he stroked her skin. He cared. He loved her, she had no doubt now.
But he wasn't giving himself as her mate. He was giving her a chance to heal through his blood bond. He wanted her whole again, but would he be offering this gift if she were looking into his eyes in this moment, seeing him as the man she loved, the male her heart was bound to, with or without his blood to seal it?
Her own blood must have betrayed her to him, because no sooner had she thought it, Kellan's touch slid down along her chin, lifting her sightless gaze up to meet his eyes. "When I imagined sharing this part of me with you, Mira, it was a sacred thing. A thing done in passion, in pleasure, with a promise of eternity ahead of us. It was never like this," he said, his voice rough, so gentle. "It was never supposed to be done with you suffering and afraid and me helpless, desperate, ultimately damned to lose you. And never less suited to be the one you bound yourself to than I am in this moment."