by Adrian, Lara
Phaedra must have packed and repacked her meager belongings half a dozen times in the several hours that had passed since her heated exchange with Micah.
She wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever. Tomorrow, she would be departing with him and the rest of Lucan’s hand-selected team for the expedition to the Deadlands. She had been informed they would be flying in the Order’s private jet to an airport in Kazakhstan where a smaller, specialized aircraft would then transfer them to the Siberian interior under the cover of night.
Phaedra glanced at the outfit of black fatigues and combat boots Brynne had brought by for her a short while ago. The warrior’s garb was a far cry from Phaedra’s supply of simple dresses, jeans, and light tunics originally intended for her short holiday at the colony.
There was a part of her that couldn’t wait to try it on.
But there was another part of her that didn’t want to rush the dangerous mission into the Deadlands. Not only because of what they might encounter in their search for the pair of missing crystals, but also because when they returned—successful or not—she would be leaving the Order behind and resuming the life that waited for her in Rome.
When she’d called Tamisia to explain this further delay in her return, she was surprised to hear her friend’s enthusiasm for working at the shelter. Not that it should have surprised her. During the many weeks Sia had assisted at the shelter after her fall from grace with the colony, Phaedra had witnessed her kind heart and tireless work ethic firsthand.
The shelter’s residents couldn’t be in better hands while she was away . . . or, should the Deadlands mission go horribly wrong and she was unable to return at all.
Phaedra didn’t want to consider all the ways they might fail, yet it didn’t keep the troubling thoughts at bay. Her soul was heavy with dread, not only for the task that lie ahead, but also the inescapable truth that no matter what fate might have intended for Micah and her, reality was pulling them apart.
After pacing restlessly in the confines of her room, she decided what she really needed was some air. She needed a few minutes to cleanse her spirit and her mind, and there was always one sure way for an Atlantean to do that. With the sun already on its descent toward nightfall, she had only a few spare minutes to soak up what she could.
Phaedra left her room and walked to the cozy courtyard garden she’d found that morning.
It was empty now, and she stepped outside to the inviting patch of solitude.
Golden afternoon sunlight bathed the stone patio and the colorful flower beds beyond. She walked out to the middle of it and tipped her head back, her arms spread wide beneath the warming rays. The light fed her cells as much as it nourished her soul. She drank up all she could, breathing slowly, letting the sun’s gifts wash over her.
She didn’t know how long she stood there. It wasn’t until she heard the soft crunch of gravel under a delicate foot that she opened her eyes and looked around her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Phaedra.” Micah’s beautiful mother halted on one of the meandering garden paths. “I was just taking a little walk. I didn’t realize anyone was out here. Please, continue. I don’t want to disturb you.”
“It’s okay.” Phaedra shook her head. “You’re not disturbing me at all.”
“Isn’t it lovely out here?” Elise gestured to the inviting grounds that surrounded them. “I often steal a few minutes to myself to visit the gardens whenever Tegan and I come here. Being around so much glorious nature helps me think.” A small smile curved her lips. “It also helps me stop thinking, when I’m worrying over things I can’t control.”
Phaedra exhaled a shallow sigh. “I understand.”
“I’m sure you do.” Elise approached her, nodding toward a small bench situated near a tall, fragrant rosebush. “It’s too nice to go inside so soon. Would you like to join me for little while?”
“I’d love to.”
They sat together in comfortable silence for a moment, both content to simply admire the golden light as the sun began to sink below the tops of the trees. It wouldn’t be long before it was dark and the warriors inside the command center began suiting up to start their patrols.
“It’s not easy loving a member of the Order,” Elise remarked, her gaze still fixed on the setting sun. “Knowing they’re always surrounded by violence and death, realizing there is the very real possibility of losing them every time they go out on a new mission. It never gets any easier.”
“No,” Phaedra said. “I can’t imagine it does.”
“But loving someone is always a risk. It’s the most important one we can ever take.” Elise turned her head, her expression soft. “Don’t you agree?”
“I suppose it is, yes.”
Elise stared at her for a long moment, then slowly nodded her head. “I understand you’ll be leaving tomorrow with the team heading back to the Deadlands.”
“We leave in the morning.”
“Look after him for me.”
Phaedra held the entreating lavender gaze that was so similar to Micah’s. “Of course, I will. I’ll do whatever I can to shield everyone on the team.”
“Micah would hate that I’m afraid for him. I know I shouldn’t be. He’s every bit as skilled and fearless as his father. He always has been so much like Tegan.” Elise’s smile faltered a little. “I suppose that’s exactly why I worry.”
There was something reassuring and grounding about the idea that a six-and-a-half-foot-tall, intimidating wall of muscle, might, and lethal power still had a mother who fretted over him.
Phaedra worried too.
She worried that Micah was so intent on pushing people away, one day he was going to wake up and realize he had no one left around him. Or worse, his refusal to let anyone in might send him down a dark path from which he might never find his way back.
Phaedra feared for him for many reasons, but right now, it was her heart she needed to protect.
“I don’t plan to return with the Order after we complete our search for the crystals, Elise. My place is in Rome, not here. I’m not afraid of what Selene might try to do to me, and I will never allow myself to be used to harm the Order or any of its members.”
Elise nodded, studying her in pensive silence. “You care deeply for my son, don’t you?”
Phaedra glanced down at her hands. “Our lives are too different.”
“Because you’re Atlantean and he’s Breed?”
“No. Because I don’t think I have the courage to let myself fall in love with him.”
“Oh, I see.” Elise’s placid tone indicated she understood far more about that than she was letting on. Phaedra looked up and saw a quiet sympathy in the other woman’s eyes. “I was adopted as a child by a well-respected, affluent Breed family in Boston. I had everything I could possibly want or need. Eventually, I fell in love. I became the Breedmate of a good man, and we had a son together, Camden. I thought my life was perfect. It was perfect . . . and then it all fell apart. Quentin was killed in the line of duty. Several years later, our teenage son fell victim to a destructive narcotic that turned him into a blood addict. Before I knew it, Camden was dead too.”
“I’m so sorry,” Phaedra said, reaching out to squeeze Elise’s hand.
She had the sense there was a lot more to both the story and the pain Elise was sharing. The fact that she felt comfortable sharing what she had made Phaedra feel an instant friendship with her, a kinship that touched her deeply. It was a feeling Phaedra regretted because she knew this, too, would be lost to her when she returned to Rome.
Elise placed her other hand over Phaedra’s. “When I met Tegan, I couldn’t have been in a worse place emotionally. Our lives couldn’t have been more different. Was I terrified to let myself fall in love with him? You have no idea. But I would’ve been even more afraid to live my life without having taken that chance.”
Phaedra nodded. “It’s been a long time since I’ve risked opening my heart to love. I was married many years ago, Elise. He was
human. He was a gentle man. A safe man.”
“There’s no shame in wanting those things in a mate.”
“I know. But I didn’t really find my purpose until he was gone. A violent man killed Niccolo when he got between the man and the woman he was beating. After that, I opened my house to women and children in need of protection. I’ve been doing it ever since.”
Elise smiled. “You’re a bit of a warrior yourself, Phaedra. And I think your heart has more courage than you know. I can see why fate would want to put you and Micah together.”
Phaedra shook her head. “I’d always believed in destiny because my parents had that rare bond. But if it was fate that made Micah and I meet in the Dreamscape, shouldn’t it be easier for us to be together?”
“That’s not something I can tell you,” Elise said, her voice gentle. “The only place you’ll find that answer is in your own heart. You and Micah both.”
She rose from the little bench, glancing over her shoulder as the last of the warming rays dipped below the tree line. “The sun will be gone soon. Are you coming inside?”
“In a few minutes,” Phaedra said.
“All right.” Elise folded her arms against the rising chill and quietly returned to the mansion.
Phaedra sat there, watching night begin to fall, and wondering if maybe she was the one who was going to wake up one day and realize she had pushed everyone out of her life.
CHAPTER 20
“Need any help with that?”
Micah briefly looked up at the sound of his father’s voice. “Nah, I’m good.”
He had spent the past couple of hours in the weapons room selecting the equipment he planned to take with him tomorrow when he and the rest of the Deadlands team would be leaving.
Mostly, he’d been doing his damnedest to avoid running into Phaedra after their clash outside the war room.
If he didn’t steer clear, he was only going to make her despise him even more than she did already. Or, worse than that, he might do something stupid like get naked with her again or tell her he didn’t want her returning to Rome. Not because the Order had deemed it best strategically that she stay under their watch, but because he wasn’t ready to let her go.
Neither option was any good for her.
And he couldn’t allow himself to get any deeper when it came to his feelings for her, either.
He had set his course a long time ago. He couldn’t step off it now, when the Order was taking hits from all sides and his duty as a warrior had never been more vital.
Opening a cabinet that held an array of blades, he chose a pair of curved daggers and tested the feel of them in his hand. He put one of them back, and the other went into a sheath on his weapons belt.
“Your mother is worried about you heading back to the Deadlands,” Tegan said as he stepped farther into the room. “She won’t say it to you, but I think you should know.”
Micah grunted. “It’s only an expedition. Locate the ship, search for the crystals, and, hopefully, bring them back with us.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Tegan said, but the skepticism in his voice wasn’t missed on his son.
“If we run into problems with Selene or anyone else, I’ll be ready for them.”
“You’re still itching for that fight, aren’t you?”
It wasn’t really a question. His father knew him too well to wonder if Micah still burned with the need to avenge his fallen team. Hell, they were more alike than either one of them probably cared to admit.
“The five lives ashed in those woods demand justice. I’m not going to stop craving that payback if I have to spend the rest of my days looking for it.”
“You sure you’re not looking to punish yourself?” Tegan stared at him. “You didn’t kill your men, Micah.”
He scoffed. “Didn’t I? We went into the Deadlands on my command. I’m just as responsible as anyone else.”
“If you hadn’t gone in, we’d have no idea the crystals might be in the Deadlands somewhere. Jenna’s vision of the ship in a forest could have placed them anywhere. It was you and Phaedra who provided the connection we’d be missing otherwise.”
Micah frowned. “We can’t be certain the crystals are there.”
“Phaedra doesn’t seem to have any doubt.” His father’s unblinking gaze was inscrutable. “She’s a remarkable woman. It’s too bad she’s got a civilian life waiting for her return. We could use someone with her incredible power, not to mention her courage.”
Christ, Micah couldn’t argue that. Phaedra would be—and was, in fact—an invaluable ally to the Order. But courageous and powerfully gifted or not, seeing her on the front lines of their battles was the very last place he wanted her to be.
“She’s going back to Rome after we finish in the Deadlands,” he stated as tonelessly as he might give a count of the rounds on his weapons belt.
“I thought Lucan decided she should stay under our protection.”
“He did. Phaedra doesn’t care what the Order thinks is best. She’s leaving.”
“I see,” Tegan said.
Micah scowled. “I’m going to ask Lucan to talk with Lazaro Archer, see if he can put one of his men on her security, even if they’ve got to do it covertly.”
Tegan grunted. “I thought you might be the one to volunteer for that duty.”
“No.” The denial tasted sharp on his tongue. “I’ve already got a job to do. I intend to return to black ops as soon as possible, if Commander Reichen will have me. Not as captain of another unit, but on my own.”
Tegan stared at him. “That would be a mistake, Micah. You’re a good leader. Better at it than I was or ever could be.”
The praise was unexpected, but it was the reflection in his father’s eyes that took him aback even more. There was pride there. Even admiration.
It took him a moment to find his voice. “I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t let my team’s deaths be in vain. What other reason is there for the fact that I survived and they didn’t?”
“Maybe the reason is upstairs preparing to walk out of your life. If you let her, that is.”
Micah shook his head, surprised to hear that advice coming from the formidable Gen One warrior whose long shadow Micah had walked in from the time he took his first steps.
“My life is this.” He motioned to the arsenal of weaponry surrounding him. “This is what I’ve trained to be. It’s what I know, what I’m best at. My commitment to the Order has been my destiny from the day I was born.”
“Yes, you are good at what you do,” Tegan said. “I’ve seen a lot of warriors come through the ranks over a lot of years, and you rose above them all. But that doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice everything else. It doesn’t mean you can’t be destined for other things too. Better things, like Phaedra.”
Micah let go of a low curse and ran his hand over his tense jaw. “You really think fate has something to do with the two of us?”
“I don’t know. Stranger things have happened.” Tegan chuckled, but there was a solemnity in his eyes. “I can’t tell you anything about fate. I only know what I see in you when you’re looking at her. Trust me when I tell you, son, life is for the living. I suggest you get on with it . . . before you let her walk away.”
Shit. The last thing he’d been expecting was a father-and-son bonding session after a week filled with deaths and disasters. Micah didn’t know what to say. Not about his unsolicited advice, or about the laser-sharp way he’d seemed to drill right into the heart of what Micah feared even more than failing at his promise to his team.
He feared the possibility that he might be falling in love with Phaedra.
Fuck, it was more than a possibility.
The hollow ache in his chest when he saw the hurt in her eyes today—hurt he had caused—had not dissipated in the hours since. It had only carved in deeper when he thought about her returning to the life she’d left behind in Rome.
She wasn’t even gone yet and he missed her already.
Tegan cleared his throat. “I’ll let you get back to your work. Lucan wants everyone in the war room in twenty minutes to review patrol missions for tonight’s sweep of the city.”
Micah nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Tegan dipped his chin in response, then pivoted to leave.
“Hey . . . Dad?” He paused as Micah called after him, swiveling his head to look over his shoulder. Micah swallowed, then gave his father a smile. “Thanks.”
Some of the stone that seemed to enclose Tegan cracked with the fond look he held on his only son. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you. And I’ll be proud of you. I always have been.”
Their gazes locked and held for a long moment, then his father resumed his walk toward the corridor. Before he reached the threshold, the comm units both he and Micah wore on their patrol fatigues began to buzz with an incoming notification.
“That’s Lucan,” Tegan said, frowning as he glanced down to read the display. “Holy shit. Everyone’s needed in the war room on the double.”
Micah fell in beside him, their boots chewing up the distance to the war room where the rest of the Order’s on-site members were arriving at an urgent clip too.
There was no need to ask why they had been summoned.
Two large monitors on the wall were filled with the same breaking news report from a swank society gala taking place downtown. A stricken-looking anchorman stared into the camera from his studio as he described the situation inside.
“Again, this just in, we’re getting reports that a private function being held at the city’s historic opera house has been overtaken by a group of heavily armed individuals. Our sources inside the building tell us the men are holding close to fifty hostages, among them visiting diplomats, business leaders, and government officials.”
Lucan shot a look at Gideon. “We got any intel on this gathering?”
“I’m checking now.” Data filled another monitor in the room, halting on a page that displayed a roster of Who’s Who in D.C. society. “Ah, fuck me. You’re not gonna like it. The guest list for this gala? It’s almost entirely Breed.”