And if he was looking for that answer, what was to say Cass’s killer wasn’t doing the same thing?
For all he knew, Jordana could be in the crosshairs already.
Holy fuck. If Cass had put Jordana in harm’s way, intentionally or otherwise—
A murderous flare of rage shot through Nathan at the thought, a deep protective instinct that he had no right to feel where the Darkhaven female was concerned. Still, the ferocity of his emotion stunned him.
But his fury was self-directed too.
He’d let Jordana walk away from him tonight. Hell, he’d all but shoved her away.
Bad enough he’d let jealousy and stung pride rule his warrior’s logic in neglecting to debrief a possible intel source. But in allowing Jordana to leave the crime scene, he’d left her completely unprotected, should Cass’s killer trace the Atlantean’s steps back to his visit to the museum.
That logical part of him that had been missing earlier tonight tried now to remind him that Jordana likely wasn’t without a Breed male to keep her safe from imminent harm. She had her de facto mate to protect her—a choice she’d willingly made last night.
As if Elliott Bentley-Squire were capable of looking after a woman like Jordana.
She needed a better male, a stronger male. The kind of male who would throw down his life for her in an instant.
The kind of male who would have leapt on Nathan last night and pounded him into a bloody pulp for the liberties he’d taken with her in that elevator.
Nathan snarled low under his breath. Told himself the current of urgency coursing through him was more about protecting a potential Order asset than assigning himself as a personal bodyguard to the woman he craved so fiercely, so unwelcomely.
The woman who just a short while ago had insisted she wanted nothing more to do with him, and rightly so.
As the JUSTIS officers cleared the crime scene and packed up the body, Nathan ordered his team to report back to base. Then he pivoted away and began to stalk across the dark pavement.
Rafe jogged after him. “What’s going on?”
“Jordana,” Nathan stated simply. “She was the last person to see Cass alive.”
“Jesus,” Rafe muttered. “Are you sure? How do you know that?”
“She told me. Cass showed up at the museum this afternoon. She spoke with the bastard.”
Rafe frowned. “About what? Why the hell would he go there?”
Nathan kept walking. “That’s what I intend to find out.”
“You mean we,” Rafe said. “As in the Order. As in we call this in to Headquarters and let them decide how best to proceed with the female.” When Nathan didn’t respond, Rafe grabbed his shoulder. “Jordana Gates is a civilian and a potential intelligence lead now, Nathan. You know the protocol on something like this.”
Yeah, he did.
He knew Order procedure and protocol inside and out. Hell, he’d lived and breathed it for most of his life. But that didn’t keep his feet from moving in the opposite direction of what he knew was the right and proper thing for a warrior to do.
“Holy shit,” Rafe murmured. “You really care about her.”
Nathan didn’t have the patience to try to deny it. Not that his friend would believe him, even if he wanted to pretend it was true.
All that mattered in that moment was getting to Jordana, making sure she was safe.
“Dammit, Nathan. You know I have a duty to report this.”
Nathan picked up his pace. He heard Rafe’s curse behind him, low and incredulous, in the instant before Nathan vanished into the darkness.
The teakettle started to howl in the kitchen as Jordana sat on her sofa, sweeping fresh tears from her cheeks. The sweet ending of the romantic comedy she was watching shouldn’t have inspired more than a smile or a satisfied sigh, yet as the credits rolled, she was about two seconds away from breaking down into a full sob.
Not that the movie was what had her so emotionally on edge. She’d been shaken up since she arrived home tonight. The long bath she’d taken when she first got there had helped calm her nerves, but she didn’t think she would ever be able to purge the memory of what she’d encountered outside La Notte.