“So Elite Sentinel Tegan believes,” the Lycan Elite answered.
“She thinks it is Tove,” the other Lycan said as she looked at Tove. “The Drakhyn knew your name.”
“I am well known.” Tove shrugged as she got onto the bed and lay back.
“By Drakhyn?” Lucas asked speculatively.
“I need a debrief from you all,” Salem said as he pushed Tegan’s hair off her face. “A debrief, and then I need one of you to get word to Marcus about what happened.” He sighed as his head remained heavy on his chest. “Then I need someone to prepare me for the fact my daughter may no longer be alive.”
“Dad.” Michael walked over to his father and laid his hand on his father’s arm. “Tegan may be wrong.”
“True.” The two of them stood quietly over Tegan’s bed, seeking solace from the other.
“I can link to Marcus now,” Tove said as she sat up wearily. “I have a strong connection to him,” she admitted.
“If you tell us where he is, I can go and aid him,” Garrick offered. “I think they needed more Castors on this mission of theirs.”
“I can go.” Cord stood, the exhaustion coursing through his veins. “He will be okay,” he said as he placed a hand on Sloane’s chest. “His heart is beating strongly, and the cure works to heal him as we speak.” His eyes found Jameis’s in the crowded room. “My thanks.”
“How do you know it was me that aided him?”
“Because I had my hand around your throat hours ago, healing my brother is your way of revenge.”
“You are a strange Castor.” Jameis shook his head as he looked at Rorik. “Prime Castor, may I take leave?”
“No.” Rorik looked at all in the room. “I am confused as to what is happening, but it is clear there is an Akrhyn working against us, and I fear they may be in this room.”
“You plan to hold us?” Lucas asked with an incredulous snort.
“I do.” Rorik signalled to a Castor who was hovering at the door, and a large number of Elite Sentinels entered the room.
Cord considered them. “These are Cornelius’s men,” he said flatly.
“Elder Cornelius has graciously offered to lend his support to my interrogation.”
“Of course he has,” Salem grunted as he pulled a seat away from the wall. “Well, he should have brought a Vampyre.”
“He would never,” Cord laughed softly.
“No, true.” Salem exchanged a look with Michael. “Truth serum then?” Salem suggested to Cord as he turned his attention back to him.
“Fickle things, you need to get the spell exactly right,” Cord told him conversationally. “Maybe he means to torture us?” He took perverse delight in seeing some of the Elite blanch.
“Maybe he is delusional?” Garrick suggested grimly as he watched the Elite Sentinels fan out throughout the room.
Tove lay back down again as did the other two Elite Sentinels. “I’ll take that healing potion now,” she called to the healer beside her. “I have no desire to sit through this.”
“No more healing,” Rorik snapped.
“You go against your Cast’s purpose?” Cord asked him curiously. “How…rebellious of you.”
Garrick quickly coughed to hide his laugh as Lucas turned abruptly away from the Pure Cast Prime, hiding his own smile.
“We do not need to be held here,” Lucas reminded Rorik.
“You are being accused of treason.” Rorik folded his hands inside his robes. “To depart is to admit guilt.”
“What idiot condoned this?” Salem asked tiredly.