Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [1008]
“It was a mistake,” she murmured. “I’m not going to make it worse by imagining it was anything more than that. All I can do is make a point of not repeating it.”
She sounded so sure of herself, she thought for certain Alex would believe her. But when she glanced over at her friend—her best friend, who’d stood beside her through all of her life’s triumphs and tragedies—Alex’s eyes were gentle with understanding.
“Come on, Jen. Let’s finish up these dishes, then we’ll go see how Dylan and the others are making out on their investigations.”
“We’ve been sitting here for twenty-five minutes, my man. I don’t think your guy is gonna show.” Brock turned a look on Chase from the driver’s seat of the parked Rover. “How long are we supposed to wait on this asshole?”
Chase stared out at the vacant, snow-covered lot in Dorchester, where their rendezvous with one of his former Enforcement Agency contacts was supposed to have taken place. “Something must have come up. Mathias Rowan is a good man. He never leaves me hanging out to dry. Let’s give him another few minutes.”
Brock exhaled an impatient grunt and turned up the SUV’s heat. He hadn’t been excited about partnering with Chase on the night’s patrol, but he was even less excited that their work in the city included the prospect of meeting up with a member of the Breed nation’s de facto law enforcement organization. The Agency and the Order had a long-held, mutual distrust of each other, both sides in disagreement about the way crime and punishment should work among the Breed.
If the Enforcement Agency had been effective at one time, Brock personally couldn’t vouch for it. The organization had long ago become more political than anything else, generally favoring ass-kissing and lip service as a means of handling problems—two things that happened to be missing from the Order’s playbook.
“Man, I hate winter,” Brock muttered as the flurry of new-falling snow began to come down in earnest. A gust of icy wind buffeted the side of the vehicle, howling like a banshee across the empty lot.
Truth be told, a lot of his foul mood had to do with the way he’d screwed things up with Jenna. He couldn’t help wondering how she was doing, what she was thinking. Whether she despised him, which was certainly her right. He was anxious for the night’s mission to be over so he could head back to the compound and see for himself that Jenna was okay.
“Your man Rowan better not be dicking us around,” he grumbled. “I don’t sit in the damn cold freezing my ass off for just anybody—least of all a self-righteous Agency blowhard.”
Chase slid him a meaningful look. “Whether you care to believe it or not, there are a few good individuals in the Enforcement Agency. Mathias Rowan is one of them. He’s been my eyes and ears on the inside for months now. If we want a fighting chance at routing out Dragos’s possible allies in the Agency, we need Rowan on our side.”
Brock gave a grim nod and settled back to continue their wait. Chase was probably right about his old ally. Few in the Enforcement Agency would want to admit there were cracks in their foundation—cracks that had permitted a cancer like Dragos to operate inside the Agency in secret for decades. Dragos had hidden behind an assumed name, accumulating power and intel, recruiting an untold number of like-minded followers willing to kill for him—to die for him, if duty demanded it. Dragos had climbed as high as the director level in the Agency before the Order had unmasked him several months ago and driven him to ground.
Although Dragos was gone from the Agency, the Order was certain he hadn’t severed all of his ties. There would be those who still agreed with his dangerous plans. Those who were still allied with him in silent conspiracy, hiding within layer upon layer of bureaucratic bullshit that prevented Brock and the other warriors from going in with guns blazing to flush them out.
One of Chase’s main