"Problem, Captain?"
He waved off the question without acknowledging who had asked it. His boots were already chewing up earth beneath him, his strides long and purposeful as he stalked back into the damp gloom of the rebel hideout.
He checked each room and corridor again, less rushed this time, sending his gaze over every rustic table, chair, and cot, into every corner and cranny of the place. And he found nothing.
Not until he stepped into the last room, the one situated at the far end of the concrete passageway.
Something crunched under his boot heel. A small piece of broken glass.
He paused, lifted his foot to pick up the sleek, silvery shard. Holding the tiny bit of shattered mirror between his thumb and forefinger, Nathan lifted his gaze and scanned every inch of the lightless room, his Breed eyes keen in the dark.
He cocked his head, narrowing in on an object lying in the center of the tumbled bedsheets. Even now he was tempted to dismiss it. Just a broken mirror, tossed in haste onto the unmade bed as the rebels raced to vacate the premises.
Except they hadn't left in haste.
Nathan had suspected as much earlier, when it was obvious they'd had time to take weapons and equipment, clothing and foodstuffs. Then Torin had confirmed it, reading the energy of the place left in the wake of the evacuation.
Bowman and his rebels had left with Mira on their own terms, not in a panic. They'd had time to sweep up all but one minuscule splinter of the glass that must have littered the floor, yet they hadn't bothered to remove the broken mirror along with it.
And now Nathan's Hunter instincts prickled with cold realization.
The mirror had been left behind, not tossed onto the bed and forgotten.
Placed there deliberately.
He walked over, picked it up. Stared at the intricately crafted design inlaid onto the polished silver back of the piece. The insignia was familiar at once, even though he hadn't seen it in a long time - not since the near annihilation of the family to whom the bow-and-arrow emblem belonged.
"Archer," Nathan murmured under his breath. Then a curse that was equal parts incredulity and outrage. "Bowman."
How could it be possible?
There was only one person he knew who might have this memento. One person who might possess the ability to be running under the radar of the Order, right under their damn noses.
But that person was dead.
Nathan had personally witnessed the explosion that killed the warrior who'd been like a brother to him. He'd seen the flames shoot into the night sky moments after Kellan Archer had gone inside - mere seconds before Nathan and Mira would have followed him into the warehouse to perish along with him.
But what Nathan hadn't seen, he realized now - what no one had ever sought to find in the ash and rubble left behind - was Kellan's presumed remains.
Son of a bitch.
Nathan's grip tightened around the delicate mirror bearing the Archer family emblem. He didn't like this sense of confusion that gnawed at him now, as he tried to logically sort the pieces of a disturbing puzzle he was just seeing for the first time. Could Kellan Archer be alive? All this time, deceiving everyone he knew, living in Boston like some kind of ghost? If so, how had he ended up in this place, with a new name and a band of human rebels under his command?
Betrayal wasn't something Nathan's lethal logic had trained him to combat. He'd never cared enough about something to experience any sense of unfairness when it was gone, but now the unfamiliar emotion roiled in his gut, bitter as acid.
And what about Mira?
As badly as he wanted to deny Kellan's deception, the prospect of Mira being pulled into the equation made the acid churning inside him turn cold. It made the assassin in him go still and calculating, preparing to sever all emotional ties in the execution of his mission.
Nathan considered the shattered mirror clutched tight in his fist. Either Kellan or Mira had left it, knowing - perhaps hoping - it would be discovered by someone who would recognize it. Someone from the Order. Maybe even Nathan himself.
If it had been Mira, perhaps it was a cry for help, some kind of clue to aid in her rescue. Except Nathan knew the Breedmate warrior too well to believe that. Her love for Kellan Archer had endured eight years of absence. If she were reunited with him now, after all that time mourning him, there would be no tearing her away from his side.
As for Kellan, Nathan knew him well too - or thought he did. Still, Nathan was certain the memento was intended to be found, not as a reckless taunt meant to incite the Order's full wrath.
No, Nathan understood now, it had been left behind as an invitation.
A clue meant to lead the right person directly to where Kellan would be found.