"Precious cargo," Dante said, lifting her hand from atop the round swell of their unborn child and pressing his lips to her palm.

Tess's answering smile twisted into a pained grimace. She sucked in air, then blew it out in a slow hiss. "Your son is getting restless again already this morning. I think I'd better ... head back to our quarters and ... lie down ... for a little while."

Dante sprang into action, gingerly helping her up with Renata, Jenna, and Alex acting as spotters on either side of them. Lucan was on his feet before he realized it, as were the rest of the mated Breed males in the room, all of them standing there in wary silence, probably looking as useless as they felt.

"I'm okay," Tess blurted, too breathless for Lucan's liking. She walked slowly, carefully, one arm cradling the underside of her belly, the other clutched tight to Dante as he gently steered her away from the table. Technically she wasn't due for another couple of weeks, and although Lucan was no expert on such things, he had to guess that the Order's pending delivery would be arriving sooner than later.

"Can you make it to the sofa in the other room, babe?" Dante asked, tense and concerned, the devoted, doting father-to-be.

Tess dismissed the question with a curt wave. "I want to walk ... it's better if I move a bit. Once I lie down, I'll be there for a while."

"Okay," Dante said. "We'll take it nice and slow, all right? That's it, babe. Slow steps. You're doing great."

The couple said some quick good-byes, then began an unhurried trek back to their quarters in the compound. Gabrielle came back to the dining room with Savannah and the others, just in time to see that Tess and Dante were gone. After a few moments of awkward silence, Mira turned a concerned look on Renata.

"Is Tess's baby ready to be born?"

Renata's sober glance traveled the anxious faces in the room before lighting back on Mira with a nurturing, patient smile. "Yes, I think so, Mouse. It's not going to be long at all before the baby arrives."

Mira frowned. "Hunter better hurry up and come home, or he won't get to meet the baby when it gets here. Where is he, anyway?"

"Still on a mission," Niko replied, smoothly stepping in like the father figure he'd become to the little girl. "Hunter's got some important things to do down in New Orleans, but he'll be coming back as soon as he can."

"Well, that's good," Mira declared. "Because he needs to be here before Christmas for sure. Do you know he's never had Christmas before? I promised I would make him a decoration for his room."

At the girl's mention of the impending holidays, a further pall fell over the dining room. Lucan felt the weight of so many gazes deliberately avoiding him, everyone waiting for him to go all grinch and announce to an innocent child that there would be no Christmas at the compound. Hell, he wasn't even sure there would be a compound by Christmas, which was - damn, less than two weeks away.

Renata dropped down into a crouch next to Mira's chair at the table. "I've got an idea, Mouse. Why don't you come with me and show me what you're making for Hunter?"

"Okay," she answered, then turned to Kellan with a bright grin. "You wanna see too?"

"Sure." The teen shrugged as though he couldn't care less, but he was out of his seat as soon as the word left his lips. He loped along sullenly behind Renata and Mira, a loose shuffle of gangly arms and legs.

"Renata's right about the baby, you know." Savannah addressed everyone in the room.

"I've got a lot of good Southern midwives in my mama's line, and I've attended enough births myself to know that we're probably looking at a matter of days before Tess goes into labor. The way she's carrying, we could be down to a matter of hours."

Lucan felt a scowl pressing into his brow. "Days or hours? We need a few more weeks."

Lazaro Archer met him with a sage look. "Nature doesn't give a damn for convenience, and never has."

Lucan grunted, well aware of that ironic truth. He also knew they could buy valuable time if they could drop a hammer on Dragos somehow, get the bastard on the run again. It was time that they needed to assess a possible relocation of the compound, and time that Tess and Dante deserved in order to deliver their baby under some semblance of normal, peaceful conditions. He looked over at Gideon. "Best-case estimate, how soon can you be up and running if we determine the move to Archer's holding is viable?"

"Have laptop, will travel. Assuming we can establish satellite access up there without any issues, I can get our basic systems limping along in a few hours. The whole enchilada - networks, telecom, security cams, heat and motion sensors, et cetera - is going to take a couple of weeks, minimum."

Lucan expelled a curse along with his low sigh. "All right. Not great news, but we'll have to make it work. What about leads on Dragos?" he asked the assembled group. "Anything turn up on Murdock's possible whereabouts?"

"Nothing firm," Tegan replied from the other end of the table. "I've questioned a few of his known associates, but they came up empty. No one I've found has seen or heard from him since the incident the other night in Chinatown. Meanwhile, Rowan's putting out feelers on Murdock from within the Agency. One way or another, we'll find the son of a bitch."

Lucan nodded grimly. "Let's make it soon, yeah? Right now, he's our best shot at getting the drop on Dragos from this end. While we're working that angle, Hunter's going to run recon tonight on Henry Vachon in New Orleans. Based on the attack Dragos ordered last night, it appears the connection between Vachon and him is more than valid."

A few grave glances met his from the group, silent acknowledgment of the close call Hunter and his civilian companion had survived with one of Dragos's assassins. Brock's expression was the most concerned. Understandable, considering the history he'd had with Corinne Bishop back when he had served as a bodyguard for her family's Darkhaven in Detroit. The warrior had been nearly unrestrainable when he'd been brought up to speed on the details of Corinne's ill-fated reunion with Victor Bishop and the revelations that had resulted from her trip back home to Detroit. He was still visibly outraged over the news.

Chapter Nineteen

"Henry Vachon is obviously scum, with or without a fresh connection to Dragos," he said, his deep voice rumbling with fury. "I'd personally like to see the bastard drawn and quartered, but I hate the idea that Hunter has to leave Corinne unguarded for so much as a minute while he collects the intel we need."

"It concerns me too," Lucan replied. "Hunter's comfortable that they're in a safe place for the time being, but they need to find better shelter. Unfortunately, we can't risk area hotels, nor can we be sure of any of the local Darkhavens. We have to assume anyone in the civilian population down there could have secret ties to either Henry Vachon or Dragos himself."

"What about someone in the human population?" Savannah's question had all heads turning in her direction. "I know someplace they'd be safe for a while. It's not far from the city, but it's about as off-the-beaten-path as you can get."

"Savannah," Gideon interjected slowly. "We can't ask her - "

"Who is the human in question?" Lucan asked. Savannah met his gaze. "My sister Amelie. She's been living on the Atchafalaya Swamp for more than seventy years. And she's trustworthy. The fact that Gideon and I are alive today, standing here in front of you all, is testimony to that."

Gideon nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Savannah and I owe Amelie Dupree our lives. She's solid, Lucan. I'd stake my life on that. I have, actually."

"Amelie knows what Gideon is," Savannah added. "She's known about him since the night he showed up on her doorstep looking for me some thirty years ago, and she's kept our secret all this time."

The newsflash that a human down in the Louisiana swamps was privy to the Breed's existence didn't exactly warm Lucan's cockles. Still, he knew he'd be a fool not to consider the option Savannah and Gideon had just handed him. Human alliances were hardly his first choice - in fact, they ranked about dead last as far as he was concerned - but the situation was desperate and time was definitely not on the Order's side at the moment. "How long do you think it might take to contact your sister?"

"I can call her right now," Savannah said. "I know she'll be willing to help us. All I need to tell her is when she should expect her company to arrive."

"Tell her they'll be there as soon as night falls," Lucan replied.

Corinne had slept without waking until well into the afternoon. Even though Hunter now crouched on his haunches across the small bedroom from her, he could still feel the soft curves of her body pressed against him. He could still smell the fragrance of her hair and skin from the hours he'd spent wrapped around her while she'd dozed.

Now he watched her breathe in and out, anticipating each slow inhalation, mesmerized by the beat of her pulse, which had kicked into a faster tempo beneath the fine alabaster skin at the base of her elegant throat.

His hunger for her hadn't lessened despite the physical distance he'd been glad to put between them. He wanted her in a way that startled him, one that surpassed even the most primal Breed thirst. His desire for her had disturbed him before, but now, after the torment of having held her against him for most of the day, she had invaded all of his senses. Worse than that, she had invaded his logic, making him fixate on her comfort when he should be planning his recon mission for later that night.

He tried to wrestle his focus back to the call he'd received from the Order a few hours ago. They'd found a safe house for Corinne and him about an hour's drive west of the city. Come sundown, he would take her to the assigned shelter then set off on his own to investigate Henry Vachon's known locations and hopefully collect solid intel on where the bastard could be found. The anticipation of closing in on one of Dragos's likely lieutenants made the predator in him itch for nightfall.

Corinne let out a moan on the makeshift pallet on the floor. Hunter sprang to his feet, thoughts of Dragos and his colleagues thrust aside the instant she began to stir. Her legs scissored as though she were struggling to break free from some invisible restraints. Her mouth twisted into a grimace as she sucked in air, rapid, distressed-sounding gulps.

Hunter eased down behind her on his leather coat and gathered her to him. He didn't know what to say to calm her. He had no experience to draw from, so he simply wrapped his arms around her loosely as she thrashed and shifted in his embrace. She was panting now, whispering indiscernibly, panic seeming to rise to a head with each passing second. He felt the frantic tick of her pulse as a scream ripped from her lips. It was a single word, a gasped exclamation that startled her awake, her face now less than an inch away from his. Her eyelids flipped wide open.

"You are safe," he told her, the only words he had as he stared into the terrified greenblue pools of her gaze. He brought his hand up slowly and swept a tendril of dark hair off her damp brow. "You're safe with me, Corinne."

She gave him a faint nod. "I had a nightmare. I thought I was back there ... in that awful place."

"Never again," he told her. It was a promise, one he realized just then that he was prepared to die for. She didn't flinch away as he continued to stroke the delicate slope of her cheek and jaw line. Her eyes, however, remained fixed on him, studying him.

"How long did you stay with me while I slept?"

"A while."

She gave a small shake of her head, not stopping him from letting his fingers stray into the silky warmth of her unbound hair. "You stayed for a long time. You held me, so that I could sleep."

"You asked me to," he replied.

"No," she countered gently. "I only asked you to stay until I fell asleep. What you did was ... very kind." Her eyes were locked on him with such open gratitude, it humbled him. When she spoke again, her voice had grown quiet, as though the words were difficult to summon. "I'm not used to being held. I can hardly remember what it's like to be touched with any amount of care or tenderness. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel anymore."

"If I am causing you discomfort - "

"No," she answered quickly, reaching out to press her palm lightly against his chest. It remained there, a slender patch of heat resting over the heavy thud of his heartbeat. "No, you don't cause me any discomfort, Hunter. Not at all."

He frowned, watching his big hand caress the impossibly delicate contours of her face. His fingertips were callused from handling weapons and dealing in violence. His skin rasped against the velvety perfection of hers. "You are the finest thing I've ever touched. I want to be careful with you. I worry that you'll break under my rough hands."

She smiled at that, a deep curve of her lips that had him burning to kiss her. "Your hands are very gentle. And I like the way you're touching me now."

Her whispered praise went through his body like a jolt of lightning. His pulse hammered in his ears, blood rushing through his veins and arteries like a sudden, swelling flood of lava. The tips of his fangs stretched, responding as obviously as another part of his anatomy. He fought the fevered response of his body, certain he could rein it in as he traced the edge of her jaw, then trailed the pad of his thumb over the supple curve of her lower lip. God, she was soft. So beautiful.

She exhaled a small, pleasured-sounding sigh as he continued to study her with his hands and eyes. "Are you always so careful and tender with your women?"