“Yeah,” he said into the receiver, struggling to wrench his attention away from thoughts of Jordana as he took the call from the Boston headquarters.
“Nathan.” Chase’s deep voice held a grim edge. “We just got intel from Gideon in D.C.”
Nathan’s combat instincts went on immediate full alert. “What is it?”
“Are you with Jordana?”
Fuck. This couldn’t be good. “She was just here with me a minute ago.” Nathan gripped the comm device harder in his fist, started stalking toward the office door. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s Gates,” Chase said. “He’s been allied with Cassian Gray this whole time, partnered with him in the club. Gates isn’t who he’s pretending to be. The son of a bitch is dirty.”
Ah, Christ. No.
“Do you think he’s part of Opus Nostrum?”
“We don’t know that yet,” Chase said. “We’re digging deeper. If it turns out Gates is involved with Opus …”
The commander let the statement trail off, but Nathan knew well enough what it meant. If Gates’s partnership with Cassian Gray tied back to Opus Nostrum in any way, the Order would have no choice but to deal with him as an enemy and terminate him.
Nathan didn’t even want to consider what all of this would do to Jordana.
He exited to the gallery outside, swiveling his head to ascertain which direction she might have gone.
“In light of this new intelligence,” Chase said, a carefulness to his tone, “it makes Cass’s visit to Jordana at the museum the day he was killed more than a bit troubling. Is it possible she’s aware of the link between her father and Cassian Gray?”
“She doesn’t know any of this,” Nathan blurted. He would stake his life on it.
Jordana couldn’t have been keeping a secret like that. She was too open, too innocent. She couldn’t have been playing Nathan for a fool this whole time.
“The team and I are en route to the museum now,” the commander said. “We know Gates is there tonight. We have to take him in for questioning. No delays. No warnings.”
Goddammit.
“I understand,” Nathan replied, his cold warrior’s logic instantly at war with the man who dreaded the heartbreak about to visit the woman he loved.
“Don’t let him leave,” Chase ordered. “We’re two minutes out at most. I need you to do whatever you must to hold him until we arrive.”
“I understand,” Nathan confirmed woodenly, ending the communication on a harsh curse.
Outside the open entryway of the exhibit hall, he spotted Carys chatting pleasantly with a small group of ladies. He motioned her toward him as he marched at a soldier’s clip across the marble floor. “Find Jordana. Now. Keep her out of the exhibit hall.”
The Breed female’s face blanched. “What’s happened?”
“Find her,” he barked sharply. “Take her home. Don’t leave her side, do you understand? And tell her … ah, fuck. Tell her I’m sorry.”
“Nathan?” Carys called from behind him, but he didn’t answer.
His heart as heavy as his feet, he strode into the glittering society event like a wraith, his ruthless Hunter’s gaze searching out his quarry through the crowds.
22
STANDING IN FRONT OF THE RESTROOM MIRROR, JORDANA finger-combed her hair back into some semblance of order and checked her appearance one last time after freshening up.
Aside from the cat-in-the-cream grin she couldn’t seem to suppress, she supposed she looked presentable enough. Although no one in the exhibit hall would detect what she’d been up to, Jordana wasn’t sure how she was going to manage to look anyone in the eye without blushing from head to toe over the knowledge of where she’d been and with whom—or the fact that her shredded thong now lay in the bottom of the ladies’ room waste bin.
She didn’t know how she’d be able to pretend as if she hadn’t just been thoroughly, magnificently fucked just a few scant yards and one closed door away from hundreds of Boston’s most affluent, important citizens.
Not to mention her father.