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.
She’d gone outside for answers, for comfort.
For some much-needed space to think about the choice she’d made a short while ago.
She would be leaving with Zael soon. Whether she was making the best decision, or one that she would eventually regret for the rest of her life—forever, in that case—Jordana couldn’t be sure.
Whatever she chose, Zael had made it clear there could be no reversing it. Once she left the villa with him, her course would be set and final.
“Wine or water with your coq au vin?” he asked, waiting politely as she took her seat at the table. The meal smelled delicious, and looked even more incredible.
Not that she was hungry in the least.
“Water, please.” Her head was still a little woozy, and the electrical buzz that had been with her all day was only intensifying. She put her prickly hands on her lap under the table and tried to ignore the warm tingling of her palms. “How soon will we be going?”
“As soon as you’re ready.” Zael retrieved a bottle of San Pellegrino and poured some in her glass. He gave her a sober look that said she hadn’t fooled him by trying to hide that the power within her was getting stronger by the moment. “It’s not too late to change your mind. But we don’t have long.”