Selfishly, there was a part of her that craved the asylum Zael described.
But could she really go without even a word of good-bye?
Could she leave her father? Could she leave Carys or her other friends? Could she abandon the job she adored and the colleagues and community she’d worked with for years?
And what about Nathan? Could she imagine any kind of life that didn’t somehow include him in it?
Of all the people she loved and would miss so terribly, it was this last thought that twisted her heart the most.
And she had to face the fact that whatever she thought she had with Nathan might already be gone.
But could she really walk away without knowing for certain?
“I realize this is an impossible choice, Jordana.”
She slowly shook her head. “No, you can’t know that. You’re asking me to walk away from the only home I’ve ever known. To never see the people I love most in this world ever again. Is my safety worth that? Is anything worth all of that?”
Zael’s handsome face was solemn, a dark, private pain swirling in the depths of his Caribbean blue eyes. “I will need your answer soon. If we mean to leave before you’re discovered, we must do it tonight. Make no mistake, Selene’s soldiers will come for you here. It’s not a question of if, Jordana, but when.”
26
NATHAN SAT BEHIND A PANE OF UV-BLOCKING GLASS IN THE BACKSEAT of a dark sedan that idled in the dusk on a narrow street in the coastal village of Amalfi. The driver, Salvatore, was human, a discreet, proven ally, hired to meet Nathan’s flight earlier that afternoon by the Order’s district commander in Rome, Lazaro Archer.
Nathan had been airborne from Boston within three hours of Jordana’s disappearance. The fly time on the Order’s private jet and the wait for sundown once he arrived in Italy had been maddening. Each second had crawled by in agonizing slowness. He wasn’t sure how he would have endured any of it if Martin Gates hadn’t been certain Jordana was in friendly hands, in a place that had once been a private sanctuary for Cass.
Knowing that Jordana was in any other man’s hands, particularly those of an Atlantean, hadn’t made the delay in reaching her any less torturous.
Now, finally, Nathan found himself looking up the steep, tree-choked hillside, to the secluded villa perched high above the serpentine little street.
He opened the door and got out. A quiet rap on the roof of the car sent Salvatore on his way back down the road. Nathan had no idea what he was walking into, and he and Lazaro Archer agreed that discreet or not, the farther they kept humans out of Order business, the better.
That went double when it came to Order business involving the race of immortals who were evidently hunting down and slaying their own kind while purportedly plotting war against the Breed and humans both.
A race of immortals that claimed Jordana as one of their own.
Part of him still couldn’t reconcile the idea that she belonged to a different people, a different world. He’d felt from the beginning that she deserved someone better, more worthy of her. That she was destined for greater things than he could ever hope to offer her. He just hadn’t realized how true his sense would actually turn out to be.
Movement on the terrace patio high above him drew his attention up to the villa.
As if conjured by his thoughts, Jordana appeared at the railing overlooking the hillside and coast below. Relief poured over him the instant he saw her.
She was safe.
Thank God, she was safe.
And she was more beautiful than ever, the sight of her so welcome he could hardly breathe for the way his heart was jackhammering in his chest.
Nathan stood motionless, arrested by the sight of her in the indigo wash of evening.
She looked different to him tonight. Changed, somehow. Stronger, more vibrant.
She wore a loose, white linen tank and gauzy pants, simple clothing that couldn’t quite hide the enticing curves and lean, graceful lines of Jordana’s body. Her long, platinum blond hair was gathered off her delicate face and braided in a thick rope that snaked down her spine.
Willowy and ethereal, she glowed as pale as moonlight and as breathtaking as a goddess.
Fitting, he thought, that she should look so enchanting, like a being from another realm.
As for Nathan, he had never felt more out of place than he did just then, staring up at her from the shadows in his warrior’s gear, bristling with all the ugly, brutal weapons of his trade.
He’d come to find her, to bring her home. He’d come to tell her what she meant to him, to say the things he should have told her when he’d had the chance—before everything went so wrong last night.
He’d come to rescue her on behalf of her father and the Order, but in his heart, he knew he’d come here with the hope he’d bring Jordana home as his mate.
Now he had to wonder if she wasn’t already on the path that she truly belonged on.
Not certain how he would be received, or even if she would want to see him again, Nathan took a step out of the gloom on the street. He lifted his hand, about to call out to her and let her know he was there.
Before he could speak, a man walked up beside her on the terrace balcony. Nathan’s chest went hot and tight at the tender smile and nod Jordana gave this stranger. Tall, golden-haired, too handsome to be merely mortal, the man wrapped a protective arm around Jordana’s shoulders.
Then her Atlantean guardian gently guided her away from the railing, and the two of them disappeared inside the villa.
Jordana rubbed a sudden chill from her bare arms as she reluctantly walked back inside the villa with Zael. She didn’t want to leave the terrace, or the warm night air that had drawn her out to the railing while Zael was serving the dinner he’d prepared.