"Mira, don't." Kellan pivoted to look as she flew out of her seat and started to rush forward in his defense. Alongside him, the four Breed guards went tense. He felt their alarm roll off them, noted they were all readying to draw their weapons.
"No!" Mira cried. "Lucan, don't let this happen, please!"
Kellan saw Lucan's grim look. Understood that the Order's leader had already done all he could. There was nothing more that could be said or done to spare Kellan.
"No," Mira sobbed, dropping her face into her palms.
Her anguish twisted his heart in a stranglehold. He hated that he was putting her through this, just as he'd dreaded all the years he'd stayed away, hoping to avoid this very moment.
At the far end of the chamber, Benson was shaking his head, muttering under his breath. "It's all gone too far," he slurred, his head hung low, face drooping as he spoke. "Too far now. I finally see that, when it's too late to make things right."
Kellan listened, curiosity prickling to attention as Benson rambled, morose and cryptic. There was remorse in the old man's voice, that much was unmistakable. And there was something else, something that made Kellan's blood pound in his temples.
"Too late for Jeremy," Benson murmured, thoroughly swept up in his own private misery. "Such a brilliant life, cut short. He was a pure soul, that boy, incorruptible. A true light-bringer who could've changed the world."
Light-bringer.
An unusual phrase. The very one Ackmeyer had used to describe his unreleased UV technology project.
Holy hell.
Benson was the one who stole the prototype. The realization sank in like talons in Kellan's gut. His blood froze, then immediately spiked volcanic with rage.
"Morningstar," he growled, all of his fury locked on the old man at the end of the Council assembly. Benson's drink-glazed eyes flew wide with guilt and terror. "You son of a bitch. It was you."
On a furious roar, Kellan lunged.
He felt the sudden rush of moving bodies behind him as he sprang airborne for the end of the dais. He heard Mira's scream. Heard the rapid explosions of gunfire going off in his wake.
He felt the sudden hail of pain, an unending volley of rounds, ripping into his torso and limbs as he came down on top of Benson and took the corrupt councilman to the floor.
Mira's voice was a heartrending shriek of anguish. "Kellan!"
He knew she felt the echo of his body's injuries and rage. Her terror merged with his own emotions, but he was too far gone to rein himself in. He gripped Benson around the throat. "Tell me who you gave the tech to, you goddamned bastard. Tell me!"
The human wouldn't talk. He clamped his molars together, drunken eyes fearful, though more for an unseen threat than for the vampire currently choking the life out of him. Kellan's heart thundered in his ears, so loud and labored, it was all he could hear as his blood pumped out of him, pouring from the countless holes perforating his body and limbs. The damage was total; the blood wouldn't stop.
He was dying.
The thought came at him, swift and certain, cutting through the chaos erupting all around him as time raced by in speeding instants.
He shouldn't have been surprised, given everything Mira's vision had predicted. But damn it, the shock of what he was feeling went through him like poison.
"Who killed him? You sold out your own flesh and blood - tell me who you did it for, Benson." With a snarl, he struggled to keep his hands wrapped around the human's neck as his strength began to seep out of him. He had to know, couldn't die like this without giving the Order something to go on after he was gone. If the human refused to choke out the answers Kellan demanded, then he would drag the truth from his mind.
Kellan read regret in the old man. Remorse for what he'd done, bringing about the murder of his nephew and soon the deaths of countless others. So many deaths to come, all under the guise of peace.
Kellan's grip started to slacken. He couldn't hold on. Not even when Benson scrabbled out of his reach and was swept away by GNC and JUSTIS guards. He rolled onto his back and found himself staring up at the hazy shadows of Lucan and the rest of the Order. He tried to speak but only coughed, sputtering blood as pain lanced through every inch of his body.
More than one warrior breathed a low curse as they looked down on him.
"Someone go after Benson," Lucan growled. "Goddamn it. Bring that son of a bitch in for questioning. Now."
"Kellan." Mira's voice was shattered with tears and anguish. She pushed through the warriors and dropped to her knees beside him. She grabbed his hand, clasped it against her breast as a sob racked her. "Oh, Kellan. No!"
Mira folded herself over him, weeping with a raw grief that destroyed him, even more than the bullets or his many past failures. He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. That he always had, and always would, no matter what waited for him on the other side now.
But she knew that.
She looked into his face and nodded through her tears, her fingers light on his brow, trembling as she wiped the blood from his mouth and bent to kiss him.
Kellan wanted to tell her the words anyway, but there was something else she needed to hear. Something all of the Order needed to hear.
"Opus Nostrum," Kellan murmured, barely a whisper, fighting with all he had for the breath to speak as the space between one heartbeat and the next stretched longer every second. "Stop Opus Nostrum."
Chapter Twenty-Five
NO.
Oh, God . . . no, this couldn't be happening.
"Kellan." Mira squeezed his hand, felt the strength leach out of his grasp as his eyes fell closed. "Kellan? Oh, no . . . No, Kellan, please, stay with me. Don't let go."