Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [296]
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Tegan’s voice, though level and without a hint of anything beyond basic disbelief, boomed into Elise’s head like cannon fire. With the box of cell phones in hand, he started pacing off somewhere behind her in the small studio, the sound of his heavy boots on the worn, grubby, low-pile carpet grating in her ears. “What the hell are you trying to do, woman, get yourself killed?”
“You don’t understand,” she murmured through the drumming of pain behind her eyes. “You couldn’t…could not possibly understand.”
“Try me.” The words were curt, sharp. A command issued from a powerful male who expected to be obeyed.
Elise slowly got up from her kneel beside the shelving unit and moved to the other side of the room. Each step was a chore she worked hard to disguise, relief coming only when she was able to lean her spine into the wall for some much-needed support. She practically sagged into the acoustic-padded plasterboard, wishing Tegan was gone so she could collapse in private.
“This is my own business,” she said, knowing he probably heard her shortness of breath, which she was unable to fully conceal. “It’s personal.”
“For crissake, Elise. It’s fucking suicide.”
She flinched at the warrior’s profanity, unaccustomed to hearing rough language. Quentin had never uttered anything harsher than an occasional damn in her presence, and then only when he was in the worst of states over frustration with the Agency or restrictive Darkhaven policies. He’d been a perfect gentleman in all ways, gentle even though she knew that as one of the Breed, his strength was immeasurable.
Tegan was a crude, deadly contrast to her departed mate—one she’d been raised to fear growing up as a ward of the Darkhavens from the time she was a young girl. To Quentin and the Enforcement Agency he’d been a part of, Tegan and the rest of the Order were considered dangerous vigilantes. To many in the Darkhavens, the warriors were simply a cadre of savage, medieval-minded thugs who’d long outserved their purpose as defenders of the vampire nation. They were merciless—some would say lawless—and even though Tegan had saved her life tonight, Elise couldn’t help feeling wary of him, as if there was a wild animal loose in her home.
She watched him thrust his big hand into the box of Minion communication devices, heard the clatter and slide of plastic and polished metal as he inspected the collection.
“The GPS chips on these are already disabled.” He leveled a narrow, dubious look at her. “You knew to shut them off?”
She gave a faint nod. “I have a teenage son,” she replied, then winced as the words left her lips. Lord, it was still so automatic to think of him alive, especially at times like this, when her body was weakened from psychic fatigue. “I had a teenage son,” she corrected quietly. “Camden didn’t like me being able to keep tabs on him, so he used to turn off his cell phone’s GPS when he went out. I learned how to reactivate it, but he always found me out and shut it back off.”
Tegan made a noise in the back of his throat, something low and indistinct. “If you hadn’t crippled these tracking devices, there’s a real good chance you’d be dead by now. Better than good—it’s a fucking certainty. The one who made the Minions you’ve been hunting would have found you, and you don’t want to know what he is capable of.”
“I’m not afraid of dying—”
“Dying,” Tegan scoffed, cutting her off with a sharp, exhaled curse. “Dying would be the least of your worries, female, trust me. You may have gotten lucky with a few careless Minions, but this is war, and you’re way out of your league. What happened tonight should be evidence enough of that.”
“What happened tonight was a mistake I won’t make again. I went out too late in the day and took too long. Next time I’ll be sure I’m finished and home before nightfall.”
“Next time.” Tegan pinned her with a sharp scowl. “Jesus Christ, you really mean that.”
For a long while, the warrior only stared