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Midnight Breed - Book - 01

Page 27

by Kiss of Midnight


  anything about this evening, or your having been at

  Megan’s apartment last night after the Minion’s attack on

  you. Their minds are no longer burdened with any of it.”

  “You know, right now, that sounds pretty damn good.

  So, what do you say, Lucan? Will you do me next? You can

  start erasing right before I made the terrible decision to go

  to that nightclub a couple of weeks ago.”

  He held her gaze, but she didn’t feel him so much as

  trying to get into her head. “You aren’t like those two hu-

  mans, Gabrielle. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t change

  any of the things that have happened to you. Your mind is

  stronger than most. In many ways, you are . . . different

  from most.”

  “Gee, I feel so lucky.”

  “The best place for you now is with us, where the Breed

  will protect you as one of our own. We have a secured

  compound in the city. You can stay there to start.”

  She frowned. “What, you’re offering me the vampire

  equivalent of the Witness Protection Program?”

  “It’s a bit more than that.” He turned his head, looking

  out through the windshield. “And it is the only way.”

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  Lucan hit the gas and the sleek black car shot up the

  narrow road with a low, silky growl. Clutching the leather

  seat on the passenger side, Gabrielle swung her head

  around to watch as darkness slowly swallowed up her resi-

  dential block on Willow Street.

  As the distance grew wider, she saw the vague silhou-

  ettes of Megan and Ray getting into his Mustang to leave

  her apartment, none the wiser. Gabrielle felt a sudden jolt

  of panic that made her want to leap out of the car and run

  back to them, back to her old life.

  Too late.

  She knew that.

  This new reality had her in a tight grasp, and she didn’t

  think there would be any turning back, only a steady

  march forward. She turned away from the rear window

  and sank into the seat’s butter-soft leather, staring straight

  ahead as Lucan wheeled sharply around the corner and

  drove her deep into the night.

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  Twenty

  She didn’t know how long they’d been driving, or even in

  what direction. They were still in the city, that much she

  could tell, but the many turns and back alley routes that

  Lucan took had since become a jumble in Gabrielle’s

  mind. She stared out the dark-tinted window of the sedan,

  vaguely aware that they were slowing down at last, ap-

  proaching what appeared to be the expansive grounds of

  an old estate.

  Lucan braked outside a tall, black-iron gate. Twin

  beams of red light shot down from a pair of small devices

  perched on both sides of the high-security perimeter fence.

  Gabrielle blinked away the sudden shot of light that

  flashed in front of her face, then watched as the heavy gate

  began to slide open.

  “This is yours?” she asked, turning to speak to Lucan

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  for the first time since they’d left her apartment. “I’ve been

  here before. I took a photograph of this gate.”

  They rolled through, then up a long, curving, tree-lined

  driveway.

  “The estate is part of our compound. It belongs to the

  Breed.”

  Evidently, being a vampire was quite lucrative. Even in

  the dark, Gabrielle could see the old-money quality of the

  well-tended grounds and the ornately carved limestone

  work on the pale façade of the mansion as they ap-

  proached. Double rotundas flanked the lacquered black

  doors and soaring portico of the main entrance, above

  which rose four elegant stories.

  Ambient light glowed from many of the arched win-

  dows, but Gabrielle hesitated to call the effect welcoming.

  The mansion loomed like a watchful sentry in the gloom of

  the surrounding night, stoic and forbidding, with its collec-

  tion of snarling gargoyles that stared down from the roof

  and twin balconies overlooking the drive.

  Lucan wheeled past the front entrance and around to a

  large hangar in the back. A gate lifted, and he rolled the

  purring Maybach to a stop inside, then cut the engine. A

  row of lights went on as the two of them climbed out of

  the car, the soft clicks of motion sensors illuminating a fleet

  of glossy, high-end machinery.

  Gabrielle gaped in astonishment. Between the

  Maybach, which cost about as much as her modest Beacon

  Hill condo, and the collection of cars, SUVs, and motor-

  cycles, she had to be looking at millions of dollars’ worth of

  vehicles. Multimillions.

  “This way,” Lucan said, the duffel bag of photographs

  gripped in his hand as he guided her past the impressive

  fleet to an unmarked door near the back of the garage.

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  “Just how rich are you people?” she asked, trailing after

  him in amazement.

  Lucan gestured for her to enter as the door opened

  then he followed her inside the elevator and pushed a but-

  ton on the console. “Some members of the vampire nation

  have been around a very long time. We’ve learned a few

  things about managing our money wisely.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, feeling a little off balance as the el-

  evator began a smooth but swift descent, down, and down,

  and down. “How do you keep all of this hidden from the

  public? What about the government and taxes? Or are you

  strictly a cash-and-carry operation?”

  “The public can’t get past our security, even if they

  tried. The entire perimeter of the grounds is wired.

  Anyone foolish enough to get close to the compound

  would get a fourteen-thousand-volt ass kicking and a mind

  scrub. We pay our taxes—through fronted corporations, of

  course. Our properties around the world are owned by pri-

  vate trusts. Everything the Breed does is legit and above-

  board.”

  “Legit and aboveboard. Right.” She laughed, a bit ner-

  vously. “Just nevermind all the bloodsucking or the extra-

  terrestrial lineage.”

  Lucan leveled a dark glance on her, but she was re-

  lieved to see the corner of his mouth lift in something that

  might have passed for a smile.

  “I’ll take the backups now,” he said, his penetratingly

  clear gray eyes watching her as she dug the memory sticks

  out of her jeans pocket and placed them in his hand.

  He let his fingers close around hers for a second.

  Gabrielle felt heat in his touch, but she didn’t want to ac-

>   knowledge it. She didn’t want to admit what just the slight-

  est brush of his skin made her feel, even now.

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  Especially now.

  The elevator finally came to a stop, and the door slid

  open to reveal a pristine room constructed of glass walls

  reinforced with gleaming metal frames. The floor was

  white marble, inlaid with a series of geometric symbols

  and interlocking designs. She recognized some of the de-

  signs as similar to the ones that Lucan bore on his body—

  those strange, beautiful tattoos that covered his back and

  torso.

  No, not tattoos, she realized now, but something . . . else.

  Vampire markings.

  On his skin, and here, in this underground bunker

  where he lived.

  Beyond the elevator, a corridor stretched and wended

  along a path that must have been several hundred yards

  long. Lucan paused to look at Gabrielle when she hesitated

  to follow him.

  “You’re safe here,” he said, and God help her, but she

  actually believed him.

  She walked out onto the snowy marble with Lucan,

  holding her breath as he placed his palm against an au-

  thentication panel and the glass doors ahead of him

  opened. Cool air bathed Gabrielle and she could hear a

  muffled rumble of male voices talking somewhere down

  the hall. Lucan led her toward the deep rhythm of conver-

  sation, his long stride sharp and purposeful.

  He paused in front of another glass door, and as

  Gabrielle drew next to him, she saw what appeared to be a

  control room of sorts. There were monitors and comput-

  ers lining a long, U-shaped console, digital readers flashing

  some kind of coordinates from another bank of equip-

  ment, and in the center of it all, moving on his rolling chair

  between the many workstations like a concert maestro, was

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  a geeky-looking young man, his cropped blond hair spiked

  around his head in amusing disarray. He glanced up, crisp

  blue eyes registering a greeting, and then mild surprise, as

  the door slid open and Lucan strode inside with Gabrielle

  beside him.

  “Gideon,” Lucan said, inclining his head in a nod.

  So, this was the associate he had spoken of, Gabrielle

  thought, noting the easy smile and friendly demeanor of

  the other man. He got up from his chair and nodded his

  head at Lucan and then at Gabrielle.

  Gideon was tall and lean, with boyish good looks and

  obvious charm. Nothing like Lucan. Nothing at all like she

  would imagine a vampire to be, not that she had a lot of

  experience in that area.

  “Is he—”

  “Yes,” Lucan answered, before she could whisper the

  rest of her question. He put the duffel bag down on a table.

  “Gideon is of the Breed. As are the others.”

  It was then that Gabrielle noticed the conversation

  she’d heard in the room on their approach had since gone

  silent.

  She felt more eyes on her from somewhere at her back,

  and as she turned to face the source of the sensation, all

  the breath seemed to be sucked from her lungs. Three

  large men occupied the space behind her: one in dark,

  tailored pants and a loose silk shirt, elegantly sprawled in

  a leather club chair; another wearing head-to-toe black

  leather, thick arms crossed over his chest as he leaned

  against the back wall; and the last, in jeans and a white

  tee-shirt, was hunched over a table where he’d been clean-

  ing the disassembled parts of some complicated type of

  handgun.

  They were all staring at her.

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  “Dante,” Lucan said, indicating the broody one in

  leather, who gave her a slight nod of greeting—or maybe it

  was more of a male appraisal, based on the lift of his dark

  brows as his sly gaze returned to Lucan.

  “The gearhead over there is Nikolai.” At Lucan’s intro-

  duction, the sandy-haired male offered Gabrielle a quick

  smile. He had starkly cut features, amazing cheekbones,

  and a strong, stubborn jaw. Even as he looked at her, his

  nimble fingers were working flawlessly on the weapon, as if

  he knew the components of the piece instinctually.

  “And that’s Rio,” Lucan said, turning her attention to

  the smolderingly handsome one with the immaculate

  sense of style. From his casual lounge in the chair, he sent

  her a dazzling smile that oozed with innate sex appeal,

  with an unmistakable current of danger behind his topaz-

  colored eyes.

  That threat emanated from each of them, their muscu-

  lar builds and unconcealed weapons giving the distinct

  warning that despite their relaxed appearances here, these

  were men accustomed to battle. They might even thrive

  on it.

  Lucan placed his hand on the small of Gabrielle’s back,

  startling her with the sudden contact as he brought her

  closer to him before these three other males. She wasn’t to-

  tally sure she trusted him yet, but as it stood, he was her

  sole ally in a room full of armed vampires.

  “This is Gabrielle Maxwell. For the time being, she will

  be staying at the compound.”

  He left the statement hanging without further explana-

  tion, as if he dared any one of the lethal-looking men to

  question him. None did. Watching Lucan, a commanding

  force in the midst of so much dark strength and power,

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  Gabrielle realized that he was not merely one of these

  warriors.

  He was their leader.

  Gideon was the first to speak. He had come around

  from behind the computers and monitors and offered

  Gabrielle his hand. “Good to meet you,” he said, his voice

  tinged with a vaguely English accent. “Fast thinking, get-

  ting those cell pictures of the attack you witnessed.

  They’ve been a big help to us.”

  “Um, no problem.”

  She briefly shook his hand, surprised to find him so

  personable. So normal.

  But then, Lucan had seemed relatively normal to her as

  well, and look how that turned out. At least he hadn’t been

  lying entirely when he told her he’d taken her cell phone

  into the lab for analysis. He’d only neglected to tell her it

  was a vampire CSI lab, and not the Boston police.

  A loud beep sounded from the bank of computers

  nearby, spurring Gideon into a quick jog back to his moni-

  tors.

  “Yes! You beautiful bucket of bolts,” he shouted, drop-

  ping into a spin in his chair. “Guys, you’ll w
ant to see this.

  Especially you, Niko.”

  Lucan and the other warriors gathered around the

  monitor that bathed Gideon’s face in a pale blue glow.

  Gabrielle, feeling a bit awkward standing alone in the cen-

  ter of the room, slowly trailed over as well.

  “I just hacked into the security feeds over at the T,”

  Gideon said. “Now, let’s see if we can get some footage

  from the other night, maybe find out what the bastard who

  took out Conlan was really about.”

  Gabrielle watched quietly from the periphery as several

  computer screens filled with closed-circuit images from a

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  handful of the city’s train platforms, the feed scrolling by in

  fast-forward motion. Gideon rolled his chair along the line

  of workstations, pausing to type commands onto several of

  the keyboards before continuing on to the next, and then

  the next. Finally, his frenetic energy came to a halt.

  “Okay, here we go. Green Line, coming up.” He

  backed away from the monitor in front of him, allowing

  the others a clear view. “This is footage of the platform be-

  ginning three minutes before the confrontation.”

  Lucan and the others closed in as the feed displayed an

  influx of people pouring on and off the train. Peering be-

  tween the massive sets of shoulders, Gabrielle caught the

  now familiar face of Nikolai on the monitor screen as he

  and his companion, a menacingly large male outfitted in

  dark leather, strode onto the commuter car. They had

  hardly gotten seated before one of the other passengers

  caught the attention of Nikolai’s companion. The two

  warriors stood up, and just before the doors closed for de-

  parture, the guy they’d been watching suddenly leaped out

  of the car and onto the platform. Onscreen, Nikolai and

  the other man jumped to their feet, but Gabrielle’s atten-

  tion was rooted on the person they meant to follow.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped. “I know that guy.”

  Five pairs of hard male eyes turned toward her in ques-

  tion.

  “I mean, I don’t know him personally, but I’ve seen him

  before. I know his name. It’s Brent—at least, that’s what he

  told my friend Kendra. She met him at the dance club the

  night I witnessed the killing. She’s been seeing him every

  night since, pretty seriously, in fact.”

  “You’re certain?” Lucan asked.

 

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