breath. He had to get the hell out of there, and the way things were going, tomorrow night's flight to Berlin wasn't going to be soon enough.
He had somewhere he could go--the place he always went when shit started bearing down on him. Sometimes he'd disappear there for nights on end; none of his brethren in the Order had ever been there. It was his own private hell, a forsaken, hollow place, filled with death. Right about now, it sounded like a fucking holiday.
Elise stood in the center of a large, mostly vacant chamber in the compound, feeling as if she'd had the wind knocked out of her. She was still shaking from her confrontation with Tegan, but whether it was from humiliation or anger, she wasn't sure. What he'd done to her in front of his brethren was inexcusable, incredibly cold. He had to know that what he suggested was blasphemous and profanely insulting--not just to her, but to the warriors who'd been in the room to hear it. Only the lowest females living among the Breed would engage in a blood bond without a solemn commitment and a deeply shared love.
The blood bond was the most sacred communion between a Breedmate and the male she chose as her own. The ultimate intimacy, it was very often a sexual act, and one never entered into lightly. To use a vampire's blood only to further one's longevity and strength was simply not done. Not by anyone Elise knew.
But she couldn't deny that Tegan's observations of her had been the truth.
What he'd said was cruel and crude...and utterly accurate. She was willingly wasting away, which was her prerogative as a widowed Breedmate. But she wanted to have an active part in thwarting the Rogues, and it was foolish of her to think she could do so if she continued on as she was.
Elise glanced at the barren room around her. The white, windowless walls contained no color at all--no pleasing art or photographs, like she'd seen in the rest of the compound. No sofa, no electronic equipment or computers, no books. Nothing of personal expression at all.
Near the far wall stood a tall black cabinet, and a black wooden bench beside it, underneath which was two pairs of large black leather boots, arranged with military precision. There was a large bed in the adjacent room, but even that wasn't particularly inviting. Just gunmetal gray sheets and a coal-colored blanket folded neatly at the foot of the king-sized mattress. Elise had never seen a soldiers' barracks, but she imagined they'd look like this...maybe not this cold and impersonal.
She knew where she was, of course. She'd known where she was heading when she navigated the labyrinth of corridors after removing herself from the embarrassment she'd endured in the Order's control room.
She knew what she was about to do now, but that didn't make her heart skip any less frantically when she heard Tegan's hard gait approaching from outside the open door of his private quarters.
That long-legged stride slowed, then ceased altogether as the air stirred coldly, announcing his arrival. His immense body filled the door frame, muscular arms crossed over his chest, his powerful, denim-clad thighs spread in a battle stance. He didn't speak at first, but there was no need for words when his emerald-green eyes narrowed on her, as sharp as gemstones and as cold as a glacier.
Tegan--
If you're looking for an apology, you can forget it.
Elise held that menacing gaze as she forced herself to approach him. I'm not here for that, she told him, surprised there was no tremor in her voice for the way her pulse was skittering in her veins. I came here to tell you that you were right back there. I do need the strength of a blood bond, but I'm not looking for a mate. I need an uncomplicated arrangement, with someone who isn't going to care what I do, or when I walk away...so I choose you.
Chapter Thirteen
Every smartass, apathetic reply that might have sprung to his lips fled, along with all the blood in his brain. Tegan stood there in the doorway of his private apartments, struck stupid with shock at what he just heard.
He sure as hell never saw this coming.
And although all good sense told him to deny Elise's proposal--shut the goddamn idea down before another second passed--his mouth didn't seem capable of speech. An erotic mental image burned instantly into his mind: Elise's lips pressed against his skin, her