But now Tess seemed less than assured. "I can restart his heart," she said, "but I won't be able to stop the bleeding and repair all the bullet wounds at the same time. I can revive him, but he could bleed out faster than I can fix him."
"Let me help you." Tess and Dante's son, Rafe, hunkered down next to her. The young warrior's face was solemn with purpose, his eyes - the same aquamarine shade as his mother's - intense with a determination Lucan had seen him display in equal measure on the field of combat. Rafe placed his palms on two of the bullet wounds, then gave his mother a nod. "You kick-start his ticker. Leave the rest to me."
Tess smiled, her face full of maternal pride as the pair of healers went to work on Kellan.
Lucan wanted to know as badly as anyone else gathered around the scene if the Order would have a miracle here today or a loss that would send the body of one of their own - one of their kin - up to meet the sun tomorrow morning in a funeral ritual.
But regardless of in what condition Kellan Archer returned to the Order's headquarters, Lucan and the other warriors had serious problems of their own to contend with now.
Problems that only became more urgent with the execution-style slaying of GNC director Benson a few minutes ago.
Lucan sent a glance at Gideon, Tegan, Dante, and the rest of the Order's elders. "Opus Nostrum," he said grimly, a question in his dark tone.
Gideon shook his head, as did the other warriors. "It's Latin. Means 'our work.' "
"Any idea what it refers to or, more important, how it might relate to Ackmeyer's Morningstar project?"
"First I'm hearing of it," Gideon replied.
Tegan inclined his head, gaze flat and cold. "I'll get a team together and run some recon. We can have boots on the ground at sundown."
Lucan nodded. "We're gonna need whatever you can gather. Leave no lead unturned. Report back to me on everything you find."
Tegan pivoted, signaling to several other warriors to join him.
"What about the summit reception?" Dante asked. "You want to step up security, put more heat on display, in case anyone's got ideas about doing something stupid tonight?"
Lucan considered for a moment. As tempting as it was, the last thing he needed to do was storm into the peace summit with an army of Breed warriors decked out in full-scale combat gear and heavy firearms. In fact, doing so could play right into the hands of anyone who might harbor a private wish to see the truce between mankind and Breed disintegrate.
What better place to incite a war than at a peace summit?
At the reminder of Darion's words, Lucan glanced over at his son. Dare's observation from several days ago, before all of this chaos began, had been troubling enough to consider then. Now it seemed all too possible that his son's keen head for tactics and strategies had predicted it right.
What if someone wanted to disrupt the summit gala tonight?
What if someone wanted to undo all the strides that had been made since First Dawn twenty years ago and set back the clock to a time when there was no peace? Or make sure there never could be any going forward?
To do so, they would have to get through the Order first.
Lucan looked at Dante, gave a curt shake of his head at the question of putting on a very public display of the Order's might. "Let's not tip our hand tonight. If something is in play, let the bastards get comfortable. Let them show themselves first. We'll be ready for them. Meanwhile, no one is above suspicion."
Chapter Twenty-Six
MIRA CAME AWAKE ON A GASP, LIKE A FISH TOSSED OUT OF the ocean and onto dry land.
Shocked.
Confused.
Slapped into a sudden, harsh new reality.
She shot bolt upright in bed, breath heaving. Her heart was pounding fast and hard, as though it wanted to burst out of her breast.
She was back at the Order's headquarters, alone in a darkened bedroom. Nothing but silence all around her. She hardly noticed her surroundings, hardly cared how she'd gotten there or how long she'd been unconscious.
She vaguely remembered Nikolai trancing her after they'd left the GNC building. She couldn't blame him for putting her under a hypnotic sedation. She'd been inconsolable, hysterical with grief.
It all seemed like a nightmare - horrible and wrenching. But no, it had been real. She still had Kellan's blood on her clothes.
He had been shot.
Kellan was dead.
And yet . . .
She rubbed her chest, felt the steady beat of her heart, heavy and strong, beneath her palm. Her blood was thrumming in her veins. All of her senses honed on one pure point of awareness.
Kellan.
She felt him with every particle of her being.
She felt his pain, his struggle to cling to something that until now kept slipping out of his grasp.
Life.
She felt him reaching for it. She felt him fighting for each breath, forcing each heavy beat of his heart to push more blood into his veins. She felt his mind searching for her. Felt their bond reconnecting, giving him much-needed strength.
Oh, God . . .
Kellan was alive.
Mira swung her feet to the floor and stood up, just as Renata entered the room.
"Kellan?" Mira blurted, both a question and a prayer.
Renata smiled, relief written across her face. "Yes, Mouse. He's not out of the woods yet, but Tess and Rafe - "
Mira was too elated to let her finish. She let out a cry of disbelief and threw herself at Renata in a fierce, overjoyed hug. "I have to see him."
She raced through the mansion, following the thin tether of the blood bond she shared with him. It led her down the stairs to the main floor, then down again, to the underground wing of the headquarters' tech center and the double doors of the infirmary down the hallway.