Midnight Breed Series New Generation Box Set

by Adrian, Lara

  Rafe stepped inside, and the woman’s lids lifted. Hazel eyes widened as soon as she saw him. Then her mouth dropped open in a terrified scream.

  “It’s okay,” he assured her, moving carefully as she bolted fully alert now and scrambled as far away from him as she could get.

  “Don’t touch me!” Panic and confusion filled her pretty face. “Stay away from us! Iona, run!”

  “Shh.” Rafe shook his head, hands out in front of him to show her he meant no harm. “It’s okay now. You’re safe.”

  She huddled deeper into the corner of the bathroom, her eyes as wild as a terrified animal’s. As she moved, Rafe spotted a small red birthmark beneath the rip in the side of her tank top.

  A Breedmate.

  Rafe hunkered down to her level, speaking gently. “We’re not going to hurt you. What’s your name?”

  She frowned, still wary, her breast still heaving with her labored breaths. She blinked slowly, glancing down at the floor. “Siobhan.” A delicate name, spoken in a broken whisper that almost made it sound as if she’d said the word chiffon. She glanced up at him and tried again. “I’m Siobhan O’Shea.”

  He nodded soberly. “My name is Rafe. And this is my friend, Aric,” he said, gesturing to the doorway where his comrade stood. “How do you know Iona Lynch, Siobhan?”

  “She’s my roommate. Where is she? What did those men want with her?” The Breedmate swallowed, her hand coming up to the bruising lump on her head. She winced at the light contact. “Is Iona… Is she okay?”

  Rafe didn’t answer. This young woman would see the grisly answer for herself soon enough. With Iona Lynch murdered, Rafe’s mission priority had just switched from locating a potential lead on Opus to protecting a key witness who was also a Breedmate in potential danger now.

  He glanced back at Aric. “We shouldn’t stay here for long, and neither should Siobhan. Go call this in to headquarters, let them know what we found. Tell them we have an injured Breedmate on our hands who’s in need of a safe haven.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Brynne didn’t leave for London. It had only been an excuse, anyway. A flimsy one that Zael had seen right through—just as he’d seen through the rest of her attempts to wound him and push him away.

  After her stinging end to the incredible time she’d spent naked with him in her bed, she had soaked for nearly half an hour under a scalding shower before sequestering herself in her guest room for most of the afternoon, feeling cowardly and petty.

  The urge to run back home to London—to anywhere else—was strong. She felt weak from hunger and raw from heightened emotion. Neither of those things made her fit to be around other people, least of all the ones who meant something to her.

  Not if she cared for their safety.

  Not if she didn’t want to see horror and fear in the eyes of everyone who mattered to her.

  Including Zael.

  God, perhaps him most of all.

  Her punishing shower and the hours of solitude afterward did little to assuage the bone-deep gnawing of her body’s worsening hunger. It also hadn’t lessened the disgust she felt for herself after the unfair way she’d treated the one man who had only shown her kindness and understanding since she met him.

  Zael had a right to be angry with her after the cutting things she’d said.

  Hell, he had a right to despise her now. Although if he did, it couldn’t be with any greater intensity than she despised herself.

  That feeling only worsened when she finally left the safety of her self-imposed exile in her suite to venture down to the living areas.

  Zael was in the large kitchen with Dylan and Rio, the scarred Breed warrior who was her mate. Their easy conversation drifted out to the hall as Brynne descended the rear staircase to the main floor below. Dammit. There was no escaping the inevitable now. To get anywhere else in the sprawling estate from where she stood, she first had to pass the kitchen.

  Against her will, her gaze sought Zael out. There he was, lounging on one of the counter stools at the large center island, listening raptly to Dylan as she regaled him with a story about how she and Rio first met. Zael’s gaze was tender on his daughter, his smile so warm and affectionate, it made Brynne’s chest squeeze.

  Despite her most vigilant effort, just the sight of him made her breath catch and her pulse kick into a higher tempo.

  It took concentrated effort to simply step past the broad, arched entryway of the kitchen without pausing to apologize to him and ask for his forgiveness. Nor did she have the nerve to glance at him and see if he might be aware of her too.

  She had to stay strong where he was concerned. Zael had been putting cracks in the veneer of her self-control from the first moment he turned those unearthly blue eyes on her. If today’s slip in resolve was any indication, distance was the only way to avoid another mistake like the one she’d made by falling into bed with him.

  If she wasn’t careful, it might not be only her resolve that crumbled around Zael, but her heart as well.

  Telling herself it was a relief that he didn’t call out to her as she crisply walked by, Brynne headed for the foyer. She needed fresh air and space to think. Even more demanding, she needed to feed.

  Her hunger was the one thing she could control in her life, but even that was dangerously close to snapping. She’d held it off for too long, and now it clawed at her with sharp talons, a beast gnashing at its leash.

  If she needed a reminder of why relationships were impossible for her, this damned sure was it.

  She was halfway across the foyer and headed for the front door when Tavia’s voice sounded from behind her. “Brynne. There you are.”

  Given no choice, she pivoted to face her sister.

  Tavia’s fine brows drew together over her shrewd light green eyes. “Were you able to get some rest this afternoon?”

  “Um, rest?” Brynne felt her own frown crease her forehead, and at the same time a flush of heat threatened to fill her face. Oh, God. She would be mortified if her indiscretion with Zael was now public knowledge at the Order.

  “I went to look for you after the meeting earlier today,” Tavia said. “Carys told me you’d gone up to your room. She thought you might need some undisturbed sleep after all you’ve been through these past couple of days.”

  “Oh.” Brynne nodded, relief flooding her. “Yes, I did. Rest, I mean. Thank you.”

  Tavia tilted her head. “Is everything okay? You don’t seem very rested. In fact, you look piqued.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes. You do.” She stared too long, too closely. “Brynne, when was the last time you fed?”

  Shit. “Oh, I don’t know,” she hedged, forcing a level of nonchalance into her voice. “It’s been long enough, I suppose. I was actually just on my way out to take care of that now.”

  “Alone?” Tavia’s hands went to her hips. “Things are too volatile out there, even in daylight hours. It’s nearly dusk, Brynne. At least wait until you can bring one of the warriors with you.”

  “An Order escort to hold my hand while I feed?” Brynne hoped her dread didn’t show in her expression. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

  Feeding had gotten perfectly civilized—and carefully regulated—since the Breed was outed to their human neighbors twenty years ago. Where it used to be acceptable to tap any human’s vein for a few fresh red cells as long as the blood Host wasn’t harmed, now the business of feeding had become a polite, albeit paid, transaction between consenting parties.

  That wasn’t to say all members of the Breed adhered to the law. Some preferred the old ways for the sport of it.

  Others, like Brynne, had reasons of their own to avoid the carefully monitored environments of the blood Host parlors and clubs that catered to the Breed and their various appetites. Chief among those reasons, for her, being the fact that parlors prohibited mind-scrubs following a feeding. The law was meant to protect human Hosts from being used without their consent—something Brynne never did, no ma
tter how savage her hunger.

  No, while she preferred to obtain her Hosts from less stringent environments, the humans she paid to nourish her walked away from the transaction with no memory as a courtesy to them.

  And, if she were being honest, as an act of self-preservation for her as well.

  Brynne couldn’t use a Host in a monitored setting like a parlor. She certainly couldn’t do it with one of the Order’s warriors in tow.

  “Even if I thought I needed an armed escort, Tavia, I doubt we’d find a reputable parlor that would even let me through the door in the company of one.”

  Her sister wasn’t swayed. “You can go to the one in Georgetown that Carys used to visit when she came to D.C. before she was blood bonded with Rune. It’s the best in the city, and not only will they let you through the door with an Order escort, Lucan and Gabrielle’s son, Darion, keeps a VIP suite there that I’m sure you’ll be welcome to use.”

  Brynne’s hopes sank in the face of this helpful, and undeterred, offer. “I don’t suppose you’re going to let me refuse?”

  Tavia’s satisfied smile was answer enough. She looped her arm through Brynne’s, steering her away from the front door while Brynne’s hunger sank its talons deeper into the fraying fabric of her soul.

  CHAPTER 17

  Zael knew the instant Brynne had descended the stairs outside the mansion’s kitchen.

  He’d been enjoying a conversation with Dylan and Rio, glad for the time to get to know both of them a bit. But the moment Brynne’s presence stirred the air, his attention went out the window and the only thing he could focus on was her.

  He had waited for her to appear in the hallway outside the kitchen, even as he nodded and smiled at the right places while Dylan spoke.

  If Brynne had so much as glanced his way even for a second, nothing would have stopped him from going to her right then and there. He would have taken her aside without a care for who saw them, and he would have demanded she be honest with him, instead of hiding behind the chilly, untouchable facade she seemed to put up so quickly whenever anyone got too close to her. Especially him.

  Not that he had any room to point the finger when it came to honesty or honor. She had been right about him not being the type to stick around. He couldn’t argue that, especially when Dylan was living proof of his life’s most shameful failing.

  If either woman knew the truth about his cowardice where Dylan’s mother was concerned, they both might turn their backs on him. And rightly so.

  But Brynne didn’t seem to need any convincing to ignore him. She’d stepped past the kitchen entry without blinking or breaking her stride. He didn’t even know if she was aware he was there.

  Something told him she had been, and the fact that she sailed by without the slightest acknowledgment had burned him more than he cared to admit.

  She had since disappeared with Tavia somewhere in the mansion. Zael couldn’t deny that despite his agreement to give her space, there was a part of him that refused to bow to a lie.

  She wanted him, just as he wanted her.

  And yes, the sex was great. Hell, it was so incredible he was of the opinion they should be doing it again as soon as possible, not trying to pretend it was some kind of mistake both of them should regret.

  But even more than that, something was happening between them that went beyond attraction. It went beyond the fact that they lived in two different worlds, from two races that had been enemies for longer than either of them had been alive. This connection he and Brynne had shouldn’t make sense and it damned sure wasn’t anything he’d planned on, but it was real.

  It was genuine and powerful, and it wasn’t going away, no matter how much she wanted to convince both of them that it didn’t exist.

  That alone should have been enough to make him bolt. Great sex was one thing. He’d never been the kind to walk away from physical pleasure. But this was something else. And for some idiotic reason, instead of taking Brynne’s rejection as the gift it should be, he felt compelled to get to the real reasons she was so determined to push him away.

  And the longer he waited to get those answers from her, the more her silent treatment was going to drive him insane.

  Making his excuses to Dylan and Rio, he slipped out of the kitchen and headed toward the Order’s command center, the direction she’d gone with Tavia a short while ago.

  Gideon practically slammed into him, coming out of a room with his head down and tapping madly on a tablet screen.

  “Oh, shit. Sorry, man.” The warrior glanced up distractedly. His spiky crown of blond hair was disheveled and intrigue lit his eyes behind the pale blue lenses of his glasses. “I’m working out a new protocol to see if I can find another way through Opus’s server encryption. Got no time to waste, especially now that our best lead on Crowe turned out to be a dead end.” He winced as he said it. “Bad choice of words.”

  Zael paused. “What do you mean?”

  “The woman in Ireland,” Gideon said. He tucked the tablet under his arm, his expression sobering. “Rafe and Aric called it in a few minutes ago. Crowe’s mistress was murdered in her home right before our team arrived to drop a net on her. Opus apparently knew we were on to her. Sounds like they made quite a statement in killing her.”

  Zael didn’t want to ask what constituted making a statement, but having seen some of the other violence Opus Nostrum’s followers were capable of, he could easily imagine. “So, how were we able to confirm that this woman, Iona Lynch, was in fact Crowe’s mistress?”

  “We have a witness who’s corroborated our hunch—Lynch’s roommate. Her name’s Siobhan O’Shea. She was in the house at the time of the attack earlier tonight. To make matters worse, the friend is a Breedmate.”

  “Jesus. Was she harmed?”

  “Got knocked on the head pretty hard by the two men who killed her friend, but she obviously wasn’t their main concern. She says Lynch knew the men. She let them in and things turned ugly pretty fast. When the roommate tried to intervene, they shoved her into the bathroom and knocked her out while they finished what they came to do.”

  Zael exhaled a low curse. “She’s lucky they didn’t finish her too.”

  “Extremely lucky,” Gideon agreed.

  “That’s not to say this woman isn’t still in danger,” Zael considered. “From all I’ve heard and seen of Opus’s tactics, they don’t have a very good track record of leaving loose ends behind.”

  Gideon nodded grimly. “She’d be in Order protective custody even if she wasn’t a Breedmate, but the fact that she is makes her safety a top priority. Not to mention we need her to tell us whatever she can about Crowe and Iona Lynch, and about the men who killed her.”

  Gideon’s tablet chimed and he glanced at the screen. “Damn. So much for that brilliant idea. Whoever put the locks on Opus’s network is one shrewd son of a bitch. Looks like I’ve got more homework to do.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of the corridor. “If you were on your way to see Lucan, that’s where I’m heading now.”

  Zael hedged. “Ah, actually, I was looking to talk with Brynne. She went this way with Tavia a few minutes ago.”

  “Yes, she did.” Although he was already tapping on his tablet, Gideon’s brows rose with blatant interest over the rims of his glasses. “But you’re too late. Brynne’s gone now.”

  “Gone?” The newsflash hit Zael like a blow. “You don’t mean back to London?”

  “No. Gone to feed in Georgetown. Tavia sent one of the warriors out with her as an escort.”

  Zael wasn’t happy to hear she’d left the safety of the command center, let alone that she’d done so with another male. If she needed someone to protect her, then damn it, she could have asked him to take her.

  Of course, she’d probably rather swallow her own tongue than ask him for help.

  He realized he must have been wearing his displeasure on his face, because Gideon froze for a moment, cocking his head at him. Then he chuckled.

  “Well,
I’ll be damned.” He reached out and cuffed Zael on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Atlantean. Happens to the best of us.”

  “What does?”

  The warrior smirked. “You’ll figure it out.”

  With that, he resumed his tapping, leaving Zael to stare after him as Gideon headed back down the corridor, once again thoroughly engrossed in his work.

  CHAPTER 18

  “You really don’t have to wait for me to finish here,” Brynne told the big dark-haired Gen One warrior who’d been tasked as her personal driver and bodyguard for the evening. “I feel ridiculous that Tavia insisted I be schlepped around like a child in need of supervision.”

  To make matters worse, her sister had assigned Jordana’s warrior mate, Nathan, to the job. If Brynne had harbored even the slimmest hope of slipping her collar tonight in order to feed the way she needed to, she stood little chance of getting away from this warrior’s watchful eye.

  “It could take a while,” she pointed out. “I’ll have to register and sign the contract before they even admit me.”

  Nathan sat behind the wheel of the SUV as he parked at the curb, his expression unreadable. “Take whatever time you need.”

  He wasn’t much of a talker, Brynne had gathered, but she wasn’t feeling particularly chatty herself. She’d been too busy calculating possible excuses for why she wasn’t going in to the blood Host parlor, and trying to guess how much longer she would be able to stave off the worst of her hunger if she didn’t get some relief tonight.

  By the acid burn of her veins and the increasing throb of all her pulse points, she was perilously close to the edge already.

  “You know, I’m a child of the labs too, Brynne.”

  She glanced at him, startled by the unsolicited confession. “Yes. Tavia had mentioned it to me at one time. You were part of the Hunter program.”

  “Assassins,” he confirmed grimly.

  Brynne knew the basics. The same Breed madman who tinkered with DNA to create Tavia and her and a rumored dozen or more Breed females like them had also bred a race of Gen One boys from the Ancient he kept imprisoned in the lab and a cage full of Breedmates abducted from their families and used like chattel for his experiments and twisted pleasures.