He had stayed in bed with Alex for nearly another hour, much longer than he had intended, but even at that, it had been damn near impossible to find the ambition to leave. Which meant he'd had to haul some serious ass in order to reach the rendezvous point in time to meet the arriving warriors. He'd made it-barely--and had just gotten off his snowmachine to wait for them when the roar of their engines came ripping out of the darkness.
The four vampires were outfitted like him in black winter gear and visored black helmets. As Breed, none of them needed the aid of their sled's headlight to guide them. Their huge forms, each of them bristling with weapons, spilled from the shadows of the night as they flew into the vacant, run-down truck stop. The whine of their snowmachines filled the air, heavy tractor chains throwing off' plumes of gray exhaust and chewed-up snow behind them.
The Order's answer to the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Kade thought with a wry grin as he watched the group of warriors skid to a halt in front of him.
Brock was the first off his sled. He cut the power and swung his leg over the seat, sweeping up his helmet's visor as he strode over and greeted Kade with a broad smile and a hard right cuff to the shoulder.
"You just wouldn't be happy until I had to drag my ass up here to this godforsaken icebox, that it? Gotta tell you, I'm feelin' some hate here, my man. Or I would be, if I could actually feel anything other than Arctic cold gnawing at my vitals."
Kade grinned at the warrior who had become his closest friend. "Good to see you, too." Directly behind Brock was another of the Order's newer recruits, the ex-Enforcement Agent Sterling Chase--or Harvard, as he was also known, on account of his highbrow civilian education and the stuffy demeanor he'd sported in the beginning of his involvement with the warriors. That cool air of superiority was still there, but sharpened to an icy edge in the year since he'd joined the Order. Chase was deadly, and took something of an unhealthy satisfaction in his work. In fact, Kade was shocked as hell to see the male, considering it had only been a couple of weeks since a street battle in Boston had left him grounded with a nasty gunshot wound to the chest. Looking at him now, Kade couldn't help seeing a bit of Seth's unapologetic arrogance in the male's chilling blue eyes as he pulled off his helmet and bared his brush-cut blond head to the elements. His lean face was almost gaunt and there was a glint of emptiness in the warrior's eyes. An apathy that Kade felt as though he were only truly noticing for the first time.
"Got satellite imagery of the mining company location," Chase said without greeting, pulling a small laptop out of his gear and firing it up as the others gathered around them. "It's fresh intel. Gideon procured the images right before we left the compound."
"Good," Kade replied. "You feeling all right, Harvard?" He glanced up, his expression was unreadable, bleak. "Never better." As Kade considered the warrior, the two others in the unit came over, both of them immense, both ruthlessly efficient weapons in the Order's deadly arsenal. They were both also first-generation Breed, although Tegan was centuries older than the male called simply Hunter. Where Tegan had been one of the Order's founding members along with its Gen One leader, Lucan, Hunter had come on board only a few months ago, an unlikely ally, given that he was a product of Dragos's genetic experimentation labs. Bred off the last surviving Ancient--the very creature potentially at large in Alaska right now--and one of the many unknown, captive Breedmates whom Dragos had been collecting for decades as part of his grasp for power, Hunter was likely no older than forty or fifty years. But during that short span of life, he'd known only discipline and solitary purpose.
He'd been raised an assassin, an emotionless Hunter, given no name other than that of his function-his sole worth--to Dragos, the one who made him. Behind the glossy visor of his helmet, Hunter remained his usual close-lipped, automaton self as he and Tegan approached the rest of the group. As for Tegan, he'd never been Mr. Congeniality. It wasn't that long ago, little more than a year, that Tegan's involvement in the Order looked dubious at best. But he had proven himself in the end, and earned the love of a good woman besides. Now, as Lucan's second in command, the formidable warrior put all of his merciless, lethal intensity into every mission for the Order. His bright green gaze was piercing as he stripped off his helmet and gave Kade a curt nod of greeting. "Nice work, turning up the lead on Coldstream Mining. Gideon tracked it back to an outfit calling themselves TerraGlobal Partners. It's a dummy corporation, a front with about ten layers of bullshit entities behind it."
"Let me guess," Kade said dryly. "All roads will eventually lead to Dragos." Tegan nodded. "Dante, Rio, and Niko are running with the data, pursuing every bread crumb we can find, no matter how small or spread out. Meanwhile, Lucan and Gideon are holding down the fort in Boston. Had to practically tie Lucan down to keep him from coming with us on this one, but we can't leave the compound unprotected when we still don't have a direct bead on Dragos himself. Too much precious cargo at home."
Kade nodded, hearing the grim concern in the other male's voice when he spoke about his Breedmate, Elise, and the other warriors' mates who called the Order's headquarters their home. Kade understood that feeling now.
When he thought of Alex, and the fact that he had to leave her at her house in Harmony while he was on this mission ...
When he thought there was a chance, if things should go terribly wrong and he couldn't return to her, that she might fall prey to the Ancient or to any other danger, and he wouldn't be there to keep her safe ... Holy hell.
Each thought was worse than the other, an awful spiral that he had to mentally shake himself out of to catch up to what Tegan was saying.