the sedan to meet Kellan on the other side. She was dressed as he was, head-to-toe black combat gear, sidearms loaded and ready for action. The hilts of Mira’s twin daggers, riding at her hips, glinted under the pale moonlight overhead. She stared at the scene of confusion, her expression slack with alarm. “It’s already happening. Kellan, what if we’re too late?”
He glimpsed several of the warriors ushering Breed dignitaries to safe ground, far away from the building. “We still have time. Come on.”
Mira jogged after him, up a broad flight of stairs. They had to dodge the flow of escaping party guests, who crashed toward them like cattle swept up in a blind stampede. Kellan spotted an open side door, away from the mad throng pushing and shoving out of the main entrance. He took Mira’s hand and ran with her, ducking inside the building with her.
The scene in the lobby wasn’t any more sane. Thick with scores of fleeing people, it was almost impossible to push against the current. Kellan saw Rafe up ahead, his blond head and broad shoulders towering over most of the humans racing past him. The warrior glanced over and his aqua eyes flashed with intensity.
“What happened?” Kellan called to him.
“Crowe,” Rafe snarled over the tops of the fleeing throng. “Son of a bitch planted a UV bomb in the middle of the damn reception. Lucan’s trying to shut it down. He wants a total evac.”
Ah, Christ.
Even worse than ultraviolet rounds, a bomb utilizing that kind of technology could wipe out not only the Order but every Breed dignitary in the place.
Which was exactly Opus Nostrum’s plan, he realized now.
“Kellan, look.” Mira nodded toward the far end of the lobby. “At the elevators.”
Reginald Crowe, flanked by a pair of uniformed security personnel, was rushing into a service elevator while the rest of the lobby swarmed with total chaos. Before Kellan had a chance to flash across the distance and stop the bastard, the doors slid closed. Crowe was gone.
“Fuck,” Kellan growled as he and Mira ran up on the sealed doors. “He’s heading for the roof. Stay here. Stick close to Rafe and the other warriors.”
“Let you go after him alone?” she said, not even close to a question. “Like hell I will.”
He didn’t like it, but he didn’t have time to argue with her, especially the way her chin hiked up as she spoke. And besides, Crowe was only human. The two guards with him weren’t Breed either, which meant the three of them together would pose little problem for Kellan. Add in Mira’s lethal skill with her blades, and Crowe’s escape attempt was futile even before it began.
Kellan shot a glance at the service stairwell. Using the speed his Breed genetics gave him, he could be up to the roof in mere seconds. “I’m going up on foot. You take the second elevator.”
She nodded and he took off, racing up the several flights to the service access door on the rooftop, just as Crowe and his security detail were taking their first steps across the asphalt. A helicopter waited a dozen yards away, a human pilot seated behind the controls. The engine whined to a start as Crowe strode swiftly toward the aircraft.
Kellan wasted no time. He put a bullet into the back of each guard’s head, dropping the pair like bowling pins. Crowe drew up short as his men hit the ground.
“Don’t move,” Kellan growled. “Don’t you fucking move, or you’re dead next.”
Crowe put his hands in the air and slowly turned around. His golden brows rose in surprise. “Well, this is an amusing development. The rebel leader formerly known as Bowman. I never expected to see a dead man staring at me over the barrel of a pistol this evening.”
Kellan grunted. “Funny, I’m looking at a dead man too.”
Crowe smiled. “You can’t kill me. We both know that. You need me. You need information only I can give you. You want to know about Opus Nostrum, don’t you?”
Kellan kept his aim steady on the center of Crowe’s head. “I know all I need to know.”
“Do you?”
Kellan held the man in a dark glower. “Let me summarize. You and Benson had plans of killing the Order tonight to clear the way for you and your twisted need for power. But you weren’t capable of pulling off something like that on your own. You needed Jeremy Ackmeyer’s technology to accomplish it. You needed a weapon capable of instant, mass murder. Morningstar was