Midnight Breed - Book - 01
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cables. Veins and arteries bulged on his biceps and fore-
arms. His lips were peeled back in a grimace, baring his
sharp white fangs. “Gabrielle, get the fuck out of here!”
She backed off to give him space, but she wasn’t about
to leave him suffering like this by himself. “Should I get
someone for you? I can go tell Gideon—”
“No! Don’t . . . can’t tell. Not . . . anyone.” When he
lifted his eyes to her, she saw that his pupils were thin slits
of black, swamped by pools of glowing amber. That feral
gaze went to her throat. Locked onto the place where she
could feel her pulse hammering. Lucan shuddered,
squeezed his eyes shut. “It will pass. It always does . . .
eventually.”
As if to prove his point, after a long moment, he started
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to drag himself to his feet. It was hard going and graceless,
but the growl he sent Gabrielle’s way when she tried to
help him convinced her to let him do it on his own. By
sheer force of will, he got up and flopped onto his stomach
on the edge of the bed. He was still panting, his body still
tense and heaving.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Go.” He blew the word out on an anguished gasp.
“Just . . . stay away.”
She remained right where she was. Braved a light touch
on his shoulder. “Your skin is on fire. You’re burning up
with fever.”
He didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure he was capable
of words when all his energy was focused on grounding
himself and getting free of whatever it was that had him in
such a fierce hold. He’d told her he needed to feed tonight,
but this seemed to be something deeper than basic hunger.
This was suffering on a level she’d never seen.
A chill thought ran through her head, carried there by
a term Lucan had used earlier tonight.
Bloodlust.
That was the addiction he had described as being a
hallmark of the Rogues. All that separated the Breed from their
savage brethren. Looking at him now, she had to wonder how
difficult it might be to feed a hunger that could also destroy
you.
And once Bloodlust had you by the throat, how long
before it pulled you under completely?
“You’re going to be all right,” she told him softly,
stroking his dark hair. “Just relax. Let me take care of you,
Lucan.”
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C H A P T E R
Twenty-three
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He was lying in cool shade, a soft breeze sifting through
his hair. He didn’t want to wake up from the deep, dream-
less sleep. It wasn’t often that he found this kind of peace.
Never like this. He wanted to nestle down into it, sleep for
a hundred years.
But the faint trace of jasmine floating close by made
him stir. He sucked the sweet scent into his lungs, tasting it
in the back of his parched throat. Savoring it. He peeled
open his heavy lids, looked up, and saw beautiful brown
eyes gazing back at him.
“Feeling better?”
He was, actually. The searing headache was gone. His
skin no longer felt like it was being shredded off of him.
The twisting pain in his gut had faded to a hollow gnaw-
ing, uncomfortable as hell, but nothing he couldn’t handle.
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He tried to tell her he was better, but his voice came out
in a hoarse croak. He cleared his throat, pushed sound out
of his mouth. “I’m okay.”
Gabrielle was seated on the bed with him, holding his
head in her lap. She pressed a cool, damp cloth softly to his
forehead and cheeks. With her other hand, she was
stroking his hair, her fingers gentle and soothing.
It felt good. So incredibly good.
“You were in pretty bad shape. I was worried about
you.”
He groaned at the reminder of what had happened.
The attack of blood hunger had knocked him on his ass.
He’d been reduced to a sputtering, feeble ball of pain. And
she had seen it all. Jesus, he wanted to crawl in a dark hole
and die for letting anyone see him laid low like that.
Particularly Gabrielle.
Humiliation over his own weakness hit him hard, but it
was the sudden jolt of dread that made him rise up, fully
awake. “Christ. Gabrielle, I didn’t . . . did I hurt you?”
“No.” She touched his jaw, not a trace of fear in her
eyes or her tender caress. “I’m fine. You didn’t do anything
to me, Lucan.”
Thank God.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he said, just now noticing
that her sweater and jeans were gone and her slender
curves were draped in a shroud of his black tee-shirt. All
he wore were his pants.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, pulling at a loose thread. “I put
this on a while ago, when Dante came by looking for you. I
told him you were in bed, asleep.” She blushed a little. “I
thought he’d be less inclined to ask questions if I answered
the door in this.”
Lucan sat back, frowning at her. “You lied for me.”
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“It seemed pretty important to you that nobody see
you . . . like you were.”
He looked at her, sitting there so trusting with him, and
he was leveled with admiration. Anyone else who’d have
witnessed him like that would have put a titanium blade
through his heart—and rightly so. But she hadn’t been
afraid. He’d fought through one of his worst bouts so far,
and Gabrielle had been there with him the whole time.
Taking care of him.
She had protected him.
His chest tightened with respect. With deepest grati-
tude.
He had never known what that could feel like, being
able to trust someone like that. He knew that any one of
his brethren would have his back in battle, as he would
theirs, but this was different. This was someone looking
out for him. Protecting him at his most vulnerable.
Even when he’d been spitting and snarling at her, try-
ing to drive her away. Letting her see him for the true beast
he was.
She had stayed beside him, despite all of that.
He didn’t have the words to thank her for something so
profoundly generous. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her,
as softly as he could, with all the reverence he could never
adequately express.
“I should get dressed,” he said, groaning at the thought
of leaving her. “I’m better now. I should go.”
“Go where?”
“Topside, to take out a few more Rogues. I can’t let
the
others do all of my work.”
Gabrielle moved toward him on the bed, putting her
hand on his forearm. “Lucan, it’s ten o’clock in the morn-
ing. It’s daylight up there.”
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He swiveled his head to the bedside clock and saw that
she was right. “Shit. I slept through the night? Dante’s go-
ing to ride my ass for a while about this one.”
Gabrielle’s lips curved into a sensual smile. “Actually,
he’s under the impression that you were riding mine all this
time. Remember?”
Arousal sparked inside him like flame on dry tinder.
Goddamn.
Just the thought . . .
She was sitting with her legs folded beneath her, the
black tee-shirt bunched high on her thighs, giving him a
shadowed glimpse of tiny white panties at the top of all
that peachy skin. Her hair fell around her face and shoul-
ders in sumptuous waves, making him want nothing more
than to bury his hands in it as he sank down into her body.
“I hate that you had to lie for me,” he said, growling the
words. He smoothed his hand along the silky curve of her
thigh. “I should make an honest woman of you.”
She caught his fingers, and held them still. “Do you
really think you’re up to that?”
He chuckled with dark humor. “Oh, I’m more than up
to it.”
Although her eyes were warm with interest, she gave
him a dubious look. “You’ve been through a lot. Maybe we
should talk about what happened. It might be a better idea
for you to get some more rest.”
The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his prob-
lems, especially when Gabrielle was looking so tempting in
his bed. His body was recovered from its earlier trial, and
his sex came easily to life. As usual, whenever he was near
her. Whenever he so much as thought of her.
“You tell me if I need more rest.”
Taking her hand in his, he guided her toward the hard
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ridge of his erection, which bulged against the zipper of
his pants. She rubbed the aching bulk of his shaft, then ro-
tated her wrist to cup him in her palm. He closed his eyes,
losing himself to her touch and the warm perfume of her
own arousal as she edged into his arms.
He kissed her, long and deep, a slow joining of their
mouths. Lucan slipped his hands under the tee-shirt, let-
ting his fingers travel up the silky skin of her back, then
around to her ribs, and the delicious swell of her breasts.
Her nipples pinched tight as he stroked them, little buds
just begging to be suckled.
She arched into his hands, moaning. Her own fingers
were working the button and fly at his waist. Unzipping his
pants. Sliding in, then pulling his length into the hot palm
of her hand.
“You are so dangerous,” he whispered against her
mouth. “I like seeing you here, in my domain. I didn’t
think I would. God knows, I shouldn’t.”
He gathered up the hem of the tee-shirt, drew it over
her head, and tossed it aside so that he could gaze with
open appreciation at her nude body. He swept aside her
hair, and tenderly stroked the side of her neck with the
backs of his knuckles.
“Am I really the first woman you’ve brought here?”
He smiled wryly, caressing her soft skin. “Who told you
that? Savannah?”
“Is it true?”
He bent forward and took one of her rosy nipples into
his mouth. Pressed her down beneath him with the weight
of his body while he quickly shucked off his pants. His
fangs began to stretch out from his gums, desire swiftly
burning out of control, pumping through him in hot
waves.
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“You’re the only one,” he said thickly, giving her that
honesty in return for the trust she had given him hours be-
fore.
Gabrielle would be the last female he’d bring here, too.
He couldn’t imagine having anyone else in his bed,
now. He would never permit anyone into his heart again.
Because he had to face some hard facts, here—that’s what
he’d done. For all his careful control and years of self-
imposed solitude, he had let his emotional guard slip, and
Gabrielle had filled his void like no other ever could again.
“God, you are so soft,” he said, caressing her, trailing
his fingers down her side and abdomen, to the delicate
flare of her hip. He pressed a kiss to her lips. “So sweet.”
His hand traveled lower, between her thighs, coaxing
her legs apart for his questing touch.
“So wet,” he murmured, plumbing her mouth with his
tongue as his finger delved past her panties, into the slick
folds of her cleft.
He penetrated her, just a tease at first, then deeper. She
clutched at him, arching up as two more fingers entered
her body, caressing the plush sheath that gripped him so
fiercely. He broke their kiss and removed the lace that cov-
ered her sex. Then he inched down the length of her,
pushing her legs apart and sinking down between them.
“So beautiful,” he rasped, mesmerized by the flushed
perfection of her. He pressed his face against her, opening
her to him with his fingers, tonguing her clit and the wet
crevices that surrounded it. He brought her to a swift cli-
max, relishing the hard tremors that rolled over her as she
curled her fingers into his shoulders and cried out in re-
lease.
“God, you wreck me, woman. I can never get enough
of you.”
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He was so fevered to be inside of her, he hardly heard
her little gasp as he came back up to cover her with his
body. He registered the sudden stillness of her, but it was
her voice that made him freeze above her.
“Lucan . . . your eyes . . .”
Instinctively, he turned his face away from her. Too late.
He knew that she had glimpsed the hungered glow of his
transformed gaze. It was the same feral look she had seen
in him last night—or, rather, close enough that her human
eyes would have difficulty telling the difference between
blood hunger and the heated intensity of desire.
“Please,” she said gently. “Let me see you. . . .”
Reluctantly, bracing himself over her on his fists, he
brought his eyes back to hers. He saw the flicker of alarm
but she didn’t flinch from him. She looked closely, studying
him.
“I won’t harm you,” he said, his voice raspy
and thick.
He let her see his fangs as he spoke, unable to conceal any
of his body’s reaction to her now. “This is need, Gabrielle.
Desire. You do this to me. Sometimes just thinking about
you—” He broke off, cursing low under his breath. “I
don’t want to frighten you, but I can’t stop the change. Not
when I want you so damned much.”
“And all the other times we’ve been together?” she
whispered, frowning. “You’ve hidden this from me? You al-
ways shielded your face, kept your eyes averted, when we
made love before?”
“I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t want you to see
what I was.” He scoffed. “You’ve seen everything anyway.”
She slowly shook her head, her hands coming up to
hold his face still. She looked at him deeply, taking in every
part of him. Her eyes were moist, glittering, incredibly
bright. Tender with affection, and all of it pouring out for
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him. “You are beautiful to me, Lucan. I will always want to
see you. There’s nothing you ever need to hide from me.”
Her earnest declaration moved him. She held his wild
gaze as she stroked his rigid jaw, her fingers tracing down
to play across his parted lips. His fangs ached, elongating
further as she explored his face with her tender touch.
As if to prove something to him—or maybe, to her-
self—she slipped her finger past his lips, into his mouth.
Lucan groaned deep in his throat, a harsh, wordless snarl.
His tongue pressed hungrily against her fingertip, his teeth
grazing her skin with tender restraint as he closed his lips
and sucked her deeper into his mouth.
He watched Gabrielle swallow hard. He smelled
adrenaline jetting through her, mixing with the scent of
her desire.
She was so damned beautiful, so soft and giving, so
courageous in everything she did, he couldn’t help but feel
awed by her.
“I trust you,” she told him, her dusky eyes darkening
with passion as she slowly withdrew her finger from be-
tween his sharp teeth. “And I want you. Every part of
you.”
It was more than he could take.
With an animal grunt of lust, he came down on her,
positioning his pelvis between her thighs and spreading
them wide with his knees. Her sex was slick and hot against
the head of his cock, a welcome he couldn’t resist. With a