Holy...shit.
For weeks the Order had been searching exhaustively for even the most minute lead on Dragos, all without success. Now here he was, plunked down right in front of them like a fish in a barrel. Motherfucker was here. And goddamn it, he was going down - tonight.
Niko eased back into the thicket, then hauled ass in a southerly direction, where he'd left Renata with their purloined Agency SUV. He couldn't wait to call Tegan and Rio and give them this good news.
Edgar Fabien's confusion and distress over the debacle of his botched gift for Dragos haunted him like a wraith as he and the others followed their newly arrived leader into the conference room of the northern retreat. He knew it was dangerous, generally deadly, to displease Dragos, something he'd avoided very well until recently. But he also knew - as he assumed the rest of the Breed males gathered here for this meeting did - that Dragos had brought them all together tonight for a specific purpose. This was to be a historic night. A reward, Dragos had promised, for their years of covert partnership and loyalty toward a common goal.
After so much time and effort spent currying Dragos's favor these past decades, Fabien only prayed he hadn't thrown it away in that one unfortunate instant down near the dock.
"Be seated," Dragos instructed them as they filed in and he took his place at the front of the meeting room. He watched as Fabien and the six others, all still concealed behind their black hoods, filled the chairs that were gathered around the slab of polished granite that served as the conference table. "Each of us assembled here in this room shares a common interest - that being the current and future state of our race.">Although Fabien had been a disappointment recently, Dragos supposed the Darkhaven leader deserved some measure of credit for the two-prong approach to this important gathering. While the rest of the attendees arrived last night by car, this evening a speedboat had been dispatched to carry Dragos to the site's small dock out back, after a seaplane had brought him from the city to another inland body of water also on Fabien's property. Following the setback suffered a few weeks ago during Dragos's runin with the Order, he had become far more cautious about how he traveled in the open, among other things. He'd come too far to take chances. Risked too damned much to throw it away on carelessness or the incompetence of others.
He cast a contemptuous eye toward the other passenger seated in the boat with him. The Hunter's face was impassive in the milky glow of the moon overhead, his huge body held perfectly still as the driver turned the wheel and the cigarette boat's prow cut through the water to angle toward the lone dock up ahead on the shore.
The Hunter probably knew that he was heading toward his own death. He'd failed in his mission to kill the Gen One in Montreal, and that called for steep punishment. He would be dealt with tonight, and if Dragos could use that punishment as an additional display of his power before the lieutenants who were gathered to greet him now, so much the better.
The boat's engine downshifted as they came up on the unlit, unassuming wooden dock where Edgar Fabien waited to greet them. Gas fumes rolled up off the water, nauseatingly sweet. Fabien's deep bow and fawning welcome had a similar effect.
"Sire, it is the honor of a lifetime to welcome you to my domain."
"Indeed," Dragos drawled as he stepped off the craft onto the dark wood planks of the dock. He gestured for the Hunter to follow him, and did not miss Fabien's reaction when he glimpsed the size and immensity of the Gen One serving at Dragos's command. "Is everyone assembled inside?"
"Yes, sire." Fabien came out of his bow and rushed to walk at Dragos's side. "I have good news. The warrior who escaped containment has been eliminated. Both he and the female who aided him. One of my Minions rooted the pair out, and last night I sent a team of my best agents to clean up the problem."
"You're certain the warrior is dead?"
Fabien's smug smile grated. "I would stake my own life on it. I sent trained professionals to the task. I trust their skill implicitly."
Dragos grunted, unimpressed. "What a comfort it must be to know that kind of trust in your subordinates."
Fabien's confidence faltered at the jab, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sire...another moment, if you would." Dragos dismissed the Hunter from his presence with a curt wave. "Go up to the house and wait for me. Speak to no one." As the Gen One killer strode ahead, Dragos paused to turn an impatient look on Fabien.
"My lord, I'd hoped - that is, I thought a gift might be in order," he stammered. "To celebrate this important event." "A gift?" Before he could ask what Fabien thought Dragos could possibly need from him, Fabien snapped his fingers and an Enforcement Agent emerged from the shadows of the surrounding trees, guiding a young child in front of him. The girl seemed lost in the dark, her blond hair glowing like cornsilk, her tiny face dipped down. "What is the meaning of this?" "A young Breedmate, sire. My gift to you."
Dragos stared at the waif, on the whole unimpressed. Breedmates were a rare enough occurrence among human populations, that much was true, but he preferred his stock to be of fertile, childbearing age. This girl would not be ripe for several more years, which no doubt was what intrigued Fabien the most about her.
"You can keep her," Dragos said, resuming his trek toward the gathering. "Have your man drive the boat back across the lake while we're meeting. I will radio him when he is needed again."
"Go," Fabien ordered in response, then he was right back at Dragos's side, as eager as a hound begging for scraps. "Sire, about the child...really, you must see for yourself. She is gifted with an extraordinary talent that I am certain you will appreciate. She is an oracle, my lord. I've witnessed it for myself."
Against his will, curiosity pricked to attention. His steps slowed, then stopped. "Bring her."
When he pivoted around, Fabien's eager grin spread even wider. "Yes, sire."
The child was ushered to him once more, her footsteps resisting, stubborn heels digging into the old pine needles and sand that littered the small slope up from the dock. She tried to fight off the vampire guard who held her, but it was useless effort. He simply shoved her forward until she was standing directly in front of Dragos. She kept her chin wrenched down, her eyes cast to the ground at her feet.
"Lift your head," Fabien commanded her, hardly waiting for her to comply before he took her skull in both his hands and forced her to look up. "Now, open your eyes. Do it!"
Dragos didn't know quite what to expect. He wasn't at all prepared for the startling paleness of her gaze. The girl's irises were as clear as glass - flawless mirrors that instantly mesmerized him. He was vaguely aware of Fabien's hissed excitement, but all of Dragos's attention was rooted on the child and the incredible glimmer of her eyes.
And then he saw it...a flicker of movement in the placid reflection. He saw a form moving through thick shadows - a body he thought he recognized as his own. The image became clearer the longer he stared, rapt and eager to see more of the gift Fabien had described.
It was him.
It was his lair as well. Even veiled in dark mist, the images reflecting back at him were intimately familiar. He saw the subterranean laboratory, the holding cells...the UV light cage that contained his greatest weapon in the war he'd been preparing for all these many centuries. It was all there, shown to him through this Breedmate child's eyes.
But then, a moment of stunning alarm.
His pristine lab, so rigidly secured and orderly, was in ruins. The holding cells had been thrown open. And the UV light cage...it was empty.