About three seconds, she decided, casually draining the last of the fine French wine.
Your years of service are commendable, Agent Waldemar, she said, already extricating herself from the conversation. Will you excuse me, please? I'm afraid this wine has gone straight to my head.
The arrogant agent sputtered something about the fact that she hadn't yet heard about the time he required a full twenty stitches after a run-in with a Rogue outside Tiergarten, but Elise just gave him a polite smile as she slipped into the thickest knot of the crowd.
In the middle of the perfumed, silk-clad bodies, a female hand reached out to clasp her own. Elise? Oh, my goodness, it's so nice to see you!
She was swept into a tight, warm hug. When she drew back, a flood of delight filled her to see the face of an old, dear friend. Anna, hello. You look well.
I am. And you--how many years has it been since we've seen each other? The boys were so young then. Were they even six years old the last time we were all together?
They were seven, Elise said, hit with an instant blast of memory. Camden and Anna's son Tom?s had been fast friends, spending an entire summer together before the Agency reassigned Anna's mate overseas.
I can't believe how time flies, the other Breedmate exclaimed, then took Elise's hand in both of hers. We heard what happened to Quentin, of course. I'm so sorry for your loss.
Elise attempted a smile. Thank you. It was...a difficult time. But I'm adjusting to life without him as best I can.
Anna clucked her tongue. And poor Camden. I can only imagine how hard it's been for him too, losing his father when he could have barely been into his teens. How is he holding up? Did he come with you to Berlin? I know Tom?s would be thrilled to see him.
All the blood seemed to drain out of her head at the well-meaning questions. The pain in her heart was still raw from this more recent loss. So raw, she could hardly find her voice to speak. Camden is...well, he's not here, actually. There was an incident a few months ago in Boston. He, um...he ran into some trouble, and he... She had to take a breath and push the words out of her mouth. Camden was killed.
Anna went white with shock. Oh, Elise! Forgive me, I had no idea--
I know you didn't. It's all right. Cam's death was sudden, and not many people know.
Oh, my dear friend. You've been through so much tragedy, haven't you? You must be the strongest woman I know. To lose so much in so short a time...it would have destroyed me, I'm sure. I think I would have curled up and simply faded away.
Elise might have too. Lord knew, she wanted to do that very thing at first. But anger pulled her through the initial suffering.
Vengeance would take her the rest of the way.
You do what you must in order to survive it, she heard herself say to the stricken female who looked at her with so much pity it stung. You just do...whatever it takes.
Of course, Anna replied. She smiled, but it was a wobbly effort that didn't quite mask her discomfort with the conversation's awkward turn. How long will you be in town? Perhaps if you have time, I could show you around the city. We have some lovely parks and museums...
Perhaps. Elise glanced at her wineglass as if she just recalled it was empty. Will you excuse me? I think I'll take a little walk and refresh my drink.
Yes, Anna said, sympathy still softening her eyes. It was good to see you, Elise. Truly.
Elise gave her friend's hand a gentle squeeze. You too.
As she started to walk away, a low rumble of conversation carried through the crowd. Elise hardly had to turn to see what caused it; she felt the disturbance deep within her bones, and in the warm prickle of awareness that settled in her breast.
For God's sake, Agent Waldemar muttered from a few feet away from her. He and several of his cronies were gaping in open contempt toward the entrance of the ballroom. You'd think he'd at least have the decency to dress accordingly for a function like this. Despicable savages, every last one of them.
Elise swiveled her head and saw Tegan making his way into the gathering. He was a startlingly grim vision, dressed in full combat gear and dripping with weapons. His overlong tawny hair was wild around his head and broad, leather- clad shoulders, and there was a lethal sharpness to his green-eyed gaze as he casually scanned the crowd.
He had to know how nightmarish he must look to these pampered civilians, but he only sneered at those few inpiduals who dared to stare at him as he strode into their midst.
Just look at that uncouth Gen One barbarian, Waldemar chortled, much to his Agency companions' smirking amusement. The younger generations may be impressed by the Order's violent methods--particularly after that bit of spectacle last summer in Boston--but they need only take a hard look at this one to see the warriors for what they truly are: uncivilized hoodlums who have long outlived their purpose.
The group of them chuckled, so pompous in their silk tuxedos, their arrogance rolling off them like a sour wind.
Elise hated how the Darkhaven males were looking at Tegan. And in a small, shamed corner of her conscience, she knew that she had been guilty of the same thing at one time. She'd been raised in an Agency family nearly from infancy, taught to believe that the Order was exactly what this man claimed them to be.
And when it came to Tegan himself, Elise had to acknowledge that she'd been judging him most unfairly of all.
Tell me, Agent Waldemar, Elise said, putting herself squarely in front of the Breed male and staring up into his surprised expression. Have you lived in the Berlin Darkhaven for long?
He puffed out his chest with pride. One hundred and thirty-two years, my dear lady. As I mentioned, most of them spent in service with the Agency. Why do you ask?
Because it occurs to me that while you and your friends stand around at fancy parties, patting yourselves on the back and condemning the Order as obsolete, the warriors are on the streets risking their lives each and every night to protect a nation that hasn't bothered to so much as thank them for their trouble in the past few hundred years.