The massive black warrior’s mouth pressed flat as he paused in the open doorway. “We’ve got company outside. Whole damned fleet of press with cameras and satellite trucks.”

Lucan cursed. “Haven’t we already got enough footage of this slaughter circulating as it is? Keep the vultures away from the building. No one gets inside.”

“Yeah, that’s not the problem,” Brock said. “The cameras and reporters aren’t the only ones who just rolled up. The D.C. arm of JUSTIS is out there too. Looks like they’re setting up for a press conference.”

Lucan’s outrage spiked. “Like hell they are.”

Stalking out with the other warriors, he headed down to the glass-fronted lobby entrance of the GNC building at a hard, furious clip. Just as Brock had described, the scene on the steps outside was pandemonium. Scores of news crews and Internet entertainment site trucks lined the street in both directions. A growing sea of humans crowded on to the broad marble stairs, most with microphones or tablets in their hands. Everywhere Lucan looked, camera lenses and video screens were trained on the building’s entrance like a thousand gaping eyes.

And at the focal point of the attention was a small company of JUSTIS officials and public relations types, all getting into position just outside the GNC’s glass doors.

“Jesus Christ,” Lucan muttered under his breath.

The press started shouting questions as soon as the JUSTIS officer in charge stepped up to the front of the crowd. A clamor of competing voices filtered through the glass where Lucan and his men stood.

“Have the three shooters been identified?”

“How long do you suspect the killers had been planning today’s assault?”

“Was there anything in their backgrounds that might have been a red flag linking them to Opus Nostrum before today?”

“After the bombing in London and now this attack, is it reasonable to say that Opus Nostrum is targeting government and law enforcement?”

“Ladies and gentleman, a moment if you please.” At the front of the gathered throng, the human JUSTIS official raised his hands in a gesture calling for calm.

It didn’t work. The questions kept coming, voices rising in demand.

“How much do we know about the assailants?”

“How can we be certain no other GNC security personnel have ties to Opus?”

“Can anyone assure the public that they are safe?”

Lucan ground his molars together. The people had a right to be anxious. Hell, they had a right to be terrified. And they also had a right to the truth.

As the JUSTIS official withdrew a prepared statement from the breast pocket of his suit, Lucan stepped out of the building. He saw the startled faces, heard the gasps of shock as he strode into the afternoon light with his head and face deliberately uncovered, his UV helmet tucked under his arm.

His name traveled the crowd of reporters in a buzz of wariness and surprise, a few uttering it with outright disdain. He didn’t care if they liked him or the message he came to deliver. He’d never been interested in playing the role of diplomat, and he didn’t intend to start now.

His fangs had not yet receded. He stared at the gaping crowd with amber-tinged vision and knew that his irises were still narrowed in reaction to the extended time he and his team had spent around the spilled blood of the victims.

He looked unmistakably Breed now, and he wanted every human gathered—and every camera’s eye trained on him—to see that fact as he addressed them.

“You all have questions that need to be answered. You have fears—all of them justifiable—that you want someone to allay for you. You’re looking for reassurances that what happened here today and in London two nights ago is not the portent of worse things still to come.”

Murmurs of agreement rumbled through the crowd. Lucan looked at the uncertain faces and slowly shook his head.

“No one can make you those promises. Not me, not the Order. Not the allied heads of state represented by the Global Nations Council. And sure as hell not a bunch of JUSTIS stiffs reading off prepared remarks stamped and approved by some useless PR firm.”

The group of suits he’d just upstaged started grumbling at his back. Lucan ignored them, just as he ignored the faint sting of his exposed skin as he stood beneath the sun’s harsh rays and continued his message to the press and public who would see the day’s coverage.

“These recent attacks and the one the Order thwarted at the GNC peace summit a few weeks ago have a single purpose. To instill fear and seed mistrust. Opus would like nothing better than to see us at war against each other.”

One of the JUSTIS officials scoffed. “Our problems with Opus didn’t start escalating until the Order got involved. Maybe these are retaliative strikes against you, not us.”

Lucan turned to face the human male. “Yes, I have no doubt the attacks are meant to punish me and my warriors as well. Would you prefer the Order sat with our thumbs up our asses instead? Let Opus rip our world apart or watch all of us do it for them?”

The young man at least had the good sense to shrink back a bit under the withering blast of Lucan’s anger and his amber-lit glare. The rest of the warriors had since come out to join Lucan in front of the building, solidarity in their presence and their uncovered faces as they met the apprehensive crowd and the bristling JUSTIS representatives.

“Opus wants us at war with each other,” Lucan warned them all. “We’ve already been down that road once in our recent history. It’s taken twenty years to come out of those dark days. We can’t let anyone push us backward.”

“No, we can’t,” replied the suit in charge of the PR brigade. “That’s why JUSTIS will be replacing all security personnel in public and government facilities with our own officers, effective immediately.”

Lucan barked out a curse as he rounded on the man. “Not if I have anything to say about that.”

“I suppose you want to replace them with Order warriors instead?”

“You know, that’s a damned good idea.”

The official practically choked. “Try it and you’ll have a battle on your hands, Thorne.”

Lucan bared his teeth at the asshole, flashing more than a little fang. “I’ve got nothing but battles on my hands, so get in line. This press conference is over.”

A glance at his comrades put the group of immense Breed warriors into motion behind him.