Lazaro took her not into the living quarters of the compound, but to another wing of the estate that seemed to be where the warriors conducted Order business. She heard two male voices in one of the rooms they passed along the corridor, but her escort didn’t slow his pace at all.
Actually, it didn’t seem that he could get rid of her fast enough for his liking.
A few minutes later, Melena found herself abandoned to a vaguely medical-seeming room. The small space contained the hard bed she sat upon, and next to it a single chair. Glass-fronted cupboards mounted to the wall opposite her appeared to house bandages and other field dressing supplies.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, feeling awkward and unwanted in Lazaro’s domain. At some point, she dozed, still exhausted from her ordeal and the raw grief that clung to her. A couple of times, she’d glanced toward the window in the infirmary room door and saw one of the warriors stride past. The gorgeous blond who brought her there had smiled through the glass as he walked by. Another Breed male, a mean-looking warrior with a shaved head and a jagged facial scar that made him more suited to the name “Savage” than his friendly comrade, spared her only the briefest, disinterested glance.
o;Fuck.” He let go of her. “That shouldn’t have happened. I apologize.”
“Don’t,” she murmured, her voice a raspy whisper. Desire was singing through her veins—uninvited, maybe, but too powerful to be denied. “I didn’t mind, Lazaro. I...liked it.”
“Christ, don’t say that.” He blew out a harsh breath, then drew back from her as though she had scorched him too, and not in the good way he’d ignited her. “You do not want to say that to me, Melena. For the good of both of us.”
He got to his feet in abrupt, stony silence. As he stood, she noticed that the gash in his thigh was still bleeding. While he’d been looking after her these past few hours, he’d neglected his own injuries. He seemed oblivious to it, walking over to examine a comm unit that lay on a nearby rock. He shook the device, swearing as water dripped out of it.
“That wound on your leg needs attention, Lazaro.” He was Breed, Gen One besides. She knew his body would heal itself, but even a vampire needed help sometimes. “You need to feed soon.”
“Is that an invitation, Miss Walsh?” The comm unit clutched in his fist, he snarled down at her, baring his teeth and fangs. God, they were huge. Terrifying, and he damned well knew it. His aura seethed as menacingly as the rest of him. When she shrank back a little where she sat, he gave a dark chuckle. “No, I didn’t think so. Smart girl. Do us both a favor and don’t concern yourself with what I need.”
His anger confused her, almost as much as his unexpected tenderness of a moment ago. And the fact that he wanted to push her away when he was the only reason she was alive right now kind of pissed her off too. She stood up, refusing to be cowed by his bluster.
“Why shouldn’t I be concerned? You just saved my life—for the second time, in fact. So, forgive me if that makes me care about you just a little bit.”
When he scoffed and took a long stride away from her, she followed after him. When she put her hand on his shoulder, he rounded on her with a hiss. “Just because you’re alive, doesn’t mean you’re safe with me. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m some kind of hero.”
He didn’t give her the opportunity to reply. On a furious glower, he pivoted to stalk toward the mouth of the cave. “Stay put. I’m going to see about sending a signal and getting us out of here.”
Melena watched him prowl out into the darkness, his kiss still warming her lips and his harsh words ringing in her ears.
Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m some kind of hero.
Didn’t he know? She’d been thinking of him that way for most of her life.
CHAPTER 5
One of Lazaro’s comrades showed up less than an hour later to retrieve them in a big black SUV. Melena had hardly been introduced to the Breed warrior who drove them—a towering male with a mass of loose golden curls and a dimpled, quicksilver smile that instantly softened his strong, square-cut jaw. She thought he’d said his name was Savage, but in her opinion, he looked more like a fallen angel. If fallen angels wore combat patrol gear and bristled with blades and heavy firearms.
The warrior seemed already aware of who she was and how she’d come to be in his Order commander’s company, although he didn’t so much as try to ask. It was obvious from Lazaro’s menacing silence during the ride to wherever they were heading that conversation with her was neither welcomed nor encouraged.
Where they’d been heading was Rome.
More specifically, the Order’s command center in that city.
Melena tried not to gape when she realized that’s where Lazaro had brought her. Neither the late-night sight of the illuminated Colosseum nor Pantheon had inspired more than a lingering look as they passed the monuments, but when the SUV approached a gated, secured mansion compound nestled in the heart of the sprawling city, Melena couldn’t help but sit up a little straighter in her seat and draw in her breath.
The stately white brick mansion with its elegant, carved marble detailing and old bronze fixtures looked as timeless as the city around it. But it didn’t take long to understand that the structure’s antiquity ended at the street. This was a modern fortress, beautiful and sturdy and impenetrable. Inside the massive gates, motion sensors followed the SUV’s progress toward an underground parking garage around back.
Once they got out of the vehicle, Lazaro sternly instructed her to follow him. The warrior who drove them lingered behind, leaving her alone to his commander’s dubious care.
Lazaro took her not into the living quarters of the compound, but to another wing of the estate that seemed to be where the warriors conducted Order business. She heard two male voices in one of the rooms they passed along the corridor, but her escort didn’t slow his pace at all.
Actually, it didn’t seem that he could get rid of her fast enough for his liking.
A few minutes later, Melena found herself abandoned to a vaguely medical-seeming room. The small space contained the hard bed she sat upon, and next to it a single chair. Glass-fronted cupboards mounted to the wall opposite her appeared to house bandages and other field dressing supplies.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, feeling awkward and unwanted in Lazaro’s domain. At some point, she dozed, still exhausted from her ordeal and the raw grief that clung to her. A couple of times, she’d glanced toward the window in the infirmary room door and saw one of the warriors stride past. The gorgeous blond who brought her there had smiled through the glass as he walked by. Another Breed male, a mean-looking warrior with a shaved head and a jagged facial scar that made him more suited to the name “Savage” than his friendly comrade, spared her only the briefest, disinterested glance.
But it was a different warrior altogether who finally came into the room. Hulking and immense, he had a mane of shoulder-length brown waves and skin the color of sun-kissed golden sand. Arresting sky-blue eyes scrutinized her from within his ruggedly handsome, exotic face. “Melena. How are you feeling?” As big and imposing as the Breed male was, he somehow moved with the easy, feline grace of a jungle cat as he approached. His voice was rich and deep and cultured. “I am Jehan.”