“We have a problem,” Alexander told him.
“We?”
“Did you know that Dare can flash?”
Cruen glanced around at the other members of the Order who were busy with the Triba, unable to hear their conversation; then he sniffed and uttered, “Impossible.”
“It happened before my eyes,” Alexander said. “And he took an entire table of Impures with him.”
For one moment, Cruen appeared thoughtful; then he shrugged and offered a flippant gesture with his hand. “It was a trick. Human magic, no doubt.”
“That’s bullshit, and I think you know it.”
“I’m surprised at you, Alexander Roman. I had heard you and your brothers were great warriors in battle, keen observers—but you have fallen for a parlor trick.”
“This wasn’t a fucking Vegas lounge act, Cruen. I know the difference. This was Pureblood flashing.”
“Silence,” Cruen hissed. Behind him, the other members of the Order were ending their sessions. “You will return and fulfill our agreement. And next time, we will summon you. Understand?” His blue eyes flashed and he hissed low and ugly, “Son of the Breeding Male.”
Fangs flashing, Alexander lunged at the paven. But even with his quick mind and shocking speed, he made no connection with Cruen. The paven was gone in an instant, and Alexander was yanked out of the credenti by an unseen force, thrust into the now familiar blackness and dropped beside the mouth of the cave.
Seething, he snatched up a large rock from the ground and threw it against the cave’s wall. It shattered into a hundred tiny pieces, and Alexander couldn’t help but wish it had been Cruen’s arrogant, thick head.
Cursing into the cold mountain air, he clamped his eyes shut and flashed home.
Thirty minutes later, he was sitting in one of the brown leather chairs in the library, a stockpile of weapons on the table beside him and a vampire physician, who had come to check on his shoulder wound, pacing the floor in front of him.
“So do you have an answer for it?” Alexander asked, his conversation with the Order pushed to the back of his mind. For now.
Leza shook her head. “I’m afraid not.” She stopped in front of him and ran her hand over the smooth skin of his shoulder. “Are you certain the wound was open?”
“Of course I’m certain!” Alexander returned gruffly. “I felt it, saw it—saw the tears of blood weep from it.”
“Well, it has healed itself again.”
Alexander cocked his head to one side. “Don’t look at me like I’ve lost my mind, Leza. Sara saw it too. In fact, she ...”
“She what?” the physician interrupted, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.
The look made Alexander pause. He wasn’t about to go there, reveal the details of Sara’s unfortunate, unforgettable kiss to his shoulder. If he did, there would most certainly be a lecture coming his way, not to mention a suggestion for testing to be done on the human female. And after what he’d just endured with Cruen the Prick, he was done listening to reprimands.
Leza’s gaze bore into him, suspicious about his silence. Jaw tight, Alexander stood and went over to the table, started loading a magazine into his pistol. “Sara witnessed the open wound, that’s all.”
But Leza didn’t buy it. “If we connect the dots, this change in your wound happened while you were with Dr. Donohue. She might be a part of it.”
“No,” he said simply.
“You have never been one to ignore the realities nor the probabilities of a situation, Alexander Roman.”
Alexander slammed the bottom of the mag well until it clicked into place. “The reality is—no amount of exertion should be able to break that seal.”
“True.” Leza shrugged. “I’ve never seen it or heard of it happening. A veana’s healing power has always been impenetrable.”
Alexander continued loading weapons, but his mind returned to Sara’s bedroom and her soft eyes and sweet mouth. If she was the catalyst to his wound opening again, what would be the reason for it? Did she have some kind of power over him? Something he couldn’t understand? Or was this just a random act, a fluke? Was it possible that a veana’s breath might be too weak to truly heal the son of a Breeding Male?
He tossed the loaded Glock onto the table. Whatever the answer, he needed to keep his mind on the blood of another today. Within the hour, he and his brothers were going into the tunnels for a training exercise and a strategy session to make sure there was no escape for Dare and his recruits next time.
He lifted his gaze to Leza’s and said resolutely, “Perhaps I saw something that wasn’t there.”
Leza didn’t say anything for a moment; then her eyes softened and she nodded. “Perhaps.”
Alexander returned to his work just as a knock on the library door echoed through the room. “Come,” he called.
Leza was packing up her medical bag when the veana entered. Along with the strips of fabric tied around her throat and wrists, she was dressed in jeans, a white sweater, and had a lovely, obliging smile affixed to her face. She was admittedly beautiful, and if Alexander sensed it correctly, had a sharp brain as well. But she might just as well have been dim and unappealing for all it mattered to him. The woman with the blueberry eyes, yielding heart, and damaged soul so like his own possessed him now.
The veana inclined her head and smiled confidently. “Alexander?”
He inclined his head. “Hello, Bronwyn.”
Leza glanced from one vampire to the other, then slung her bag over her shoulder. “Alexander, if there are any changes, send for me immediately.”
Alexander nodded. “Thank you for coming.”
When Leza left the room, Bronwyn went over to the couch and sat down. “Sorry to disturb you.”
“It’s no disturbance.” Alexander noted that the veana didn’t seem at all nervous holding his gaze. She wasn’t for him, that was certain, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a good deal of respect for one with such a strong backbone.
“I assume you know why I’m here,” she said, crossing her feet at the ankles.
“You think we are true mates.”
“I do.”
“Nicholas told me of your work with bloodlines, genetic codes, DNA—how you believe we are a match. He also mentioned that you have nothing to show us that documents this claim.”
“Actually I do”—Bronwyn sat up taller as she explained—“but the document also reveals information I’ve collected for a private client of mine. I’m not able to share it with anyone at this time.”
“How interesting and inconvenient,” Alexander said.
“I know, but I assure you our blood, our genes are a match. I wouldn’t be here, come here without seeing the proof on paper.”
Alexander lifted his chin, showed off the brands on his cheeks. “You see my mark?”
“Yes.”
“And you have this mark on your skin?”
Her eyes dimmed, just a hair. In fact, if Alexander hadn’t been studying her so closely, he never would have noticed the chink in her confidence. “I haven’t found it yet. But that means nothing. As you know, veanas can develop their marks later, or sometimes the mark is so hidden—”
“I feel no connection to you, Miss Kettler.”
Bronwyn stilled, her gaze locked to his.
Alexander sighed. “I apologize for my bluntness. But you must understand, I won’t be mating. Ever.”
“May I ask why?” she said tightly.
“A true mate is responsible for giving love, sex, blood, yes?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe that the first exists, the second I can have without mating, and the third . . . Well, let’s just say that after years of being starved, having to beg for even a drop of blood, I would never allow anyone to have that kind of control over me again.”