Edge of Dawn Page 0,35

they did, Nathan would see to it that whoever took her suffered.

Before he made them pay for this day with their miserable lives.

8

KELLAN PACED THE MAIN CHAMBER OF THE REBEL BUNKER, feeling a twitch in his bones that told him dawn was rising outside the thick concrete walls. His crew dispersed hours ago, gone about their daily duties of replenishing the camp’s food stores, refueling vehicles, tending to weaponry and general maintenance of the base’s solar power panels and grounds.

Morning for their Breed commander usually meant a couple of hours of undisturbed shut-eye, but Kellan would get no sleep today. Not with Mira stowed away in his quarters.

His blood was still running hot from his confrontation with her . . . to say nothing of the kiss that had been unplanned but unstoppable. A kiss his libido was all too eager to repeat. And Kellan knew that if he let himself get that close to her again—if he let himself touch her, even in some small way—it would be only a matter of time before he found a way to get her naked beneath him.

Bad, bad idea.

But damn, did the thought of it make everything male inside him stand at full attention.

He hadn’t returned to his room all night. No, he’d conveniently called rank and sent Candice in his place. She’d looked in on Mira a few times during the evening, made sure she had water and something to eat, took her to the bunker latrine the humans shared so she could use the toilet and shower. Candice had reported back that Mira seemed cooperative enough, but her eyes never stopped taking stock of her surroundings, studying every corner of the place as Candice led her through the fortress at gunpoint.

God, it killed him to have to treat Mira like this, to drag her into the crossfire of a battle he’d never wanted to fight. One he dreaded he might not survive in the end, let alone win. And now the woman who’d once mattered to him more than anything was sitting behind the locked door of his chamber, hating him. Wishing him dead for good this time.

As far as fucked-up scenarios went, he couldn’t imagine how things could possibly get any worse.

There was a weak part of him that wanted nothing more than to go to her now and ask her forgiveness. Try to make her understand that this was not what he wanted. It was, in fact, the very thing he’d wanted to avoid. All these years, all this time, of distancing himself from everyone who’d ever cared about him, everyone he’d ever loved.

But he hadn’t gone far enough.

He couldn’t outrun fate, and now here it was, striking him hard across the face.

Kellan swore viciously under his breath and stalked out of the main room of the rebel bunker. He resisted the temptation to seek Mira out, instead turning his boots in the direction of the holding cell deep in the bowels of the old fortress.

Since he was stoked up and aggressive, he couldn’t think of a better time to pay a visit to the individual who truly deserved some of his menace. Jeremy Ackmeyer sat in the dank darkness of a ten-by-ten-foot cube of windowless concrete block. A heavy iron grate was secured with a key lock, the cell’s bars rusted from age but impenetrable. Not that Ackmeyer seemed intent to try them.

Thin and wiry, a gangly young man dressed in sagging jeans and a dated plaid button-down shirt, Jeremy Ackmeyer stood motionless in the center of his prison. Long, mousy-brown hair drooped onto his forehead and over his thick glasses. Ackmeyer’s head was slumped low, slender arms wrapped around himself, hands tucked in close. He glanced up warily but said nothing as Kellan approached the bars.

The tray of food Candice had brought him hours ago lay untouched on the cell’s concrete bench. Of course, calling the tin-canned MRE slop food was probably a stretch. Not that Kellan or his kind had any experience with human dietary preferences.

“What’s the matter, Ackmeyer? Rebel menu choices not to your liking?” Kellan’s low voice echoed off the walls of the place, dark with animosity. “Maybe your tastes are a little too rich for such common fare.”

The human’s eyes blinked once behind the distorting lenses of his glasses. He swallowed hard, larynx bobbing. “I’m not hungry. I’d like to get out of this cell. It reeks of mildew and there is black mold growing in the corner.”

Kellan smirked. “I’ll fire the