He’s just gonna eat you right up.”
Jamie leaned forward, practically snarling with venom.
“Back off, you lying bitch!”
“Jamie, don’t!” Gabrielle tried to hold him back, fear
seizing her at his naive display of protectiveness. He had
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no idea what he was doing, agitating Kendra or the other
two Minions in the car with them.
But he wouldn’t be swayed. He made a lunge from his
seat. “You touch either one of us and so help me, I’ll claw
your eyes out!”
“Jamie, stop, it’s okay,” Gabrielle said, pushing him
back down. “Calm down, please! It’ll be okay.”
Kendra had hardly flinched. Staring at them both, she
let out a sudden, shrill giggle. “Ah, Jamie. You always have
been Gabby’s faithful little terrier. Arf! Arf! You’re pa-
thetic.”
Very slowly, obviously very full of herself, Kendra resit-
uated herself in the front seat, giving them her back.
“Turn up at the light,” she told the driver.
Gabrielle blew out a tremulous sigh of relief as she set-
tled back against the cold leather. Jamie was bunched up
against the car door, fuming. When their eyes met, he slid a
fraction to the side, letting her see that the door was now
unlocked.
Her heart jumped at his ingenuity and courage. She
could hardly contain her hopeful smile as the vehicle
slowed for the traffic light a few yards ahead. It was red,
but based on the line of cars stopped in front of them, it
was due to change at any second.
This was their only chance.
She glanced at Jamie, and saw that he understood the
plan perfectly.
Gabrielle waited, watching the light, the seconds seem-
ing like hours. The red light blinked off, then went to
green. The cars started moving ahead of them. As the
sedan began to accelerate, Jamie grabbed the door handle.
Pushed it open.
Fresh night air rushed in, and the both of them made a
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headlong move for freedom. Jamie hit the pavement and
immediately moved to grab Gabrielle’s arm to help her es-
cape.
“Stop her!” Kendra shrieked. “Don’t let her get away!”
A heavy hand clamped down on Gabrielle’s shoulder
and hauled her back inside the car. She crashed against the
Minion’s massive chest. His arms wrapped around her,
trapping her in an iron hold.
“Gabby!” Jamie screamed.
A desperate sob choked out of her throat. “Get out of
here! Jamie, go!”
“Punch it, you idiot!” Kendra yelled to the driver as
Jamie reached for the door handle, trying to come back for
Gabrielle. The engine roared, tires screeching as the car
joined the other traffic.
“What about him?”
“Leave him,” Kendra ordered sharply. She smiled at
Gabrielle, who was struggling in vain in the backseat.
“He’s already served his purpose.”
The Minion held her in a bruising grip until Kendra
ordered the car to a stop outside a sleek corporate building.
They got out of the car and forced Gabrielle toward the
glass entrance. Kendra was talking to someone on her cell
phone, purring with self-satisfaction.
“Yes, we’ve got her. We’re coming up now.”
She pocketed the phone and led the way across a va-
cant, marble lobby to a bank of elevators. Once inside, she
pressed the button for the penthouse suite.
Gabrielle immediately thought back to the private
showing Jamie had done for her photographs. As the ele-
vator stopped on the top floor and the mirrored doors slid
open, she had a dreadful feeling that her anonymous buyer
was about to make himself known.
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The Minion thug who had her by the arms shoved her
into the suite. She stumbled forward and, in mere seconds,
Gabrielle’s dread became fact.
A tall, dark-haired figure in a long black coat and sun-
glasses stood in front of the wall of glass, Boston’s night-
time skyline glowing behind him. He was as big as any one
of the warriors, and he projected the same air of confi-
dence. The same cool menace.
“Come in,” he said, the boom of his deep voice rolling
like a storm. “Gabrielle Maxwell, it is a pleasure to finally
meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Kendra went to his side and pet him adoringly.
“You brought me here for a reason, I assume,”
Gabrielle said, trying not to mourn the loss of Kendra’s
humanity or fear the dangerous being who made Kendra
what she was.
“I’ve become quite a fan of your work.” He smiled
without baring his teeth. Kendra was brushed aside with a
rough hand. “You take some interesting photographs, Miss
Maxwell. Unfortunately, I need you to stop. It’s not good
for my business.”
She tried to hold the calm, predatory gaze that she
knew was peering at her from behind the dark glasses.
“What’s your business? You know, aside, from being a dis-
eased, bloodsucking leech.”
He chuckled. “World domination, of course. Really, is
there anything else worth fighting for?”
“I can think of a few things.”
A dark brow arched over the rim of his shades. “Oh,
Miss Maxwell, if you say love or friendship, I may have to
end this pleasant little introduction right now.” He steepled
his fingers, the rings on them sparkling in the dim light.
She didn’t like the way he was staring at her, sizing her up.
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His nostrils flared slightly, and then he leaned forward.
“Come closer.”
When she didn’t move, the big Minion at her back
shoved her into motion. She drew up just an arm’s length
away from the vampire Master.
“You smell delicious,” he hissed slowly. “Like a flower,
but there is something . . . else. Someone has fed from you
recently. A warrior? Don’t bother to deny it, I can smell
him on you.”
Before she realized it, he grabbed her wrist, yanking
her to him. With rough hands, he pushed her head to the
side, moving the hair that concealed Lucan’s bite and the
other, more damning mark, beneath her left ear.
“A Breedmate,” he growled, smoothing his fingertips
over her skin. “And newly claimed at that. You grow more
fascinating by the second, Gabrielle.”
She didn’t like the intimate way he whispered her
name.
“Who bit you, Br
eedmate? Which one of the warriors
did you permit between those long, lovely legs?”
“Go to hell,” she said, through gritted teeth.
“Not going to tell me?” He clucked his tongue, slowly
shook his head. “That’s all right. We can find out soon
enough. We can make him come to us.”
He drew back from her at last, and motioned for one of
the Minion guards. “Bring her to the roof.”
Gabrielle fought the grip of her captor, but she was no
match for his brute strength. She was forced toward a red
exit sign and a door with an information placard affixed to
it, marked “Helipad Access.”
“Wait! What about me?” Kendra complained from
within the suite.
“Oh, yes. Nurse K. Delaney,” her dark Master said, as
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if just now remembering her. “After we leave, I want you to
come out to the roof. I know you’ll find the view from the
ledge to be spectacular. Enjoy it for a moment . . . then step
off.”
She blinked at him dully, then bobbed her head, com-
pletely under his spell.
“Kendra!” Gabrielle shouted, still desperate to reach
her friend. “Kendra, don’t do it!”
The one in the black coat and dark shades strode past
without a care in the world. “Let’s go. I’m finished here.”
With the last block of C4 in place at the northern end of
the asylum, Lucan navigated his way through a ventilation
duct that led to the outside. He removed the loosened grid
and hoisted himself out onto the ground. The grass
crushed beneath him as he rolled onto it, fresh air crisp in
his mouth as he came up on his feet and started to jog
toward the perimeter fence.
“Niko, how’re we doing?”
“We’re good. Tegan’s on his way back and Gideon
should be right behind you.”
“Excellent.”
“Got my finger on the detonators,” Nikolai said, his
voice nearly drowned out by the low chop of a helicopter
encroaching on the area. “Say the word, Lucan. I’m dying
to light this sucker up.”
“Me, too,” Lucan said. He scowled up into the night
sky, searching for the bird. “We’ve got incoming, Niko.
Sounds like a chopper heading right for the asylum.”
As soon as he said it, he saw the dark shape appear over
the tree line. Small lights flashed as the helicopter angled
for the roof of the asylum and began its descent.
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A breeze kicked up as the propeller beat its steady
rhythm. Lucan smelled pine and summer pollen. . . and
another perfume that made his blood run cold in his veins.
“Oh, Jesus,” he gasped as the trace scent of jasmine
registered. “Do not touch the detonators, Niko! For chris-
sake, whatever you do, you can’t let that fucking building
blow!”
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Thirty-three
A volatile mix of adrenaline, rage, and absolute,
marrow-chilling fear vaulted Lucan to the roof of the old
asylum. The helicopter had barely touched down on its
landing rails as he thundered toward it from the edge of
the building. Lucan was vibrating with fury, more explosive
and unstable than a tractor trailer packed with C4. He
fully intended to rip the limbs off of whomever was hold-
ing Gabrielle.
He approached from behind the helicopter, careful not
to be seen as he rolled under its tail, then came around to
the passenger side of the cockpit, gun drawn.
He glimpsed her inside. She was in the backseat next to
a big male dressed in black and wearing dark glasses. She
looked so small, so terrified. Her scent swamped him. Her
fear tore at his heart.
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Lucan yanked open the cockpit door, shoved his
weapon into the face of Gabrielle’s captor, and made a
grab for her with his free hand. She was jerked back before
he could latch onto her.
“Lucan?” Gabrielle gasped, her eyes wide with sur-
prise. “Oh, my God, Lucan!”
He did a quick visual assessment of the situation, not-
ing the Minion pilot and another mind-slave human next
to him in the front. The Minion in the front passenger seat
spun around to knock away Lucan’s arm, and got a bullet
in his head instead.
When Lucan looked back to Gabrielle not even an in-
stant later, the calm one with her had put a savage-looking
blade to her throat. Peeking out from the sleeve of his long
black trenchcoat were the dermaglyphs Lucan had seen in
the surveillance photos from the West Coast.
“Let her go,” he told the Gen One leader of the
Rogues.
“My, my, this is a faster response than I could have
imagined, even for a blood-bonded warrior. What are you
up to? Why are you here?”
The low, arrogant voice took him aback.
Did he know this bastard?
“Let her go,” Lucan said, “and I’ll show you why I’m
here.”
“I think not.” The Gen One smiled broadly, baring his
teeth.
No fangs. A vampire, but not a Rogue at all.
What the hell?
“She’s lovely, Lucan. I rather expected she was yours.”
Christ, he knew that voice. It came from somewhere
buried deep in his memory.
Deep in his past.
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A name cut through his mind, as sharp as a blade.
No. It couldn’t be him.
Impossible. . .
He shook off the momentary confusion, but the slip in
focus cost him dearly. Creeping up on him from the side, a
Rogue had come up on the roof from within the asylum.
With a snarl, it seized the helicopter door and slammed the
edge of it into Lucan’s skull.
“Lucan!” Gabrielle screamed. “No!”
He staggered, one knee sinking beneath him. His gun
was kicked out of his grasp. It skittered across the rough
surface of the roof, several yards out of reach.
The Rogue punched him, a massive fist connecting
with his jaw. A second later, a brutal kick smashed into his
ribs. Lucan went down, but he swung out with his booted
foot and collapsed his attacker’s leg. He leaped on the
Rogue, one hand going for the blade sheathed at his torso.
A few feet away, the helicopter’s rotors began a high-
pitched whine. They were speeding up. The pilot was
preparing to take off again.
He couldn’t let that happen.
; If he let Gabrielle off this roof, he had no hope that he
would see her alive again.
“Get us out of here,” Gabrielle’s captor ordered his pilot,
as the chopper’s blades whirred faster and faster.
Outside, scrabbling on the roof, Lucan fought the
Rogue who’d attacked him. Through the dark, Gabrielle
spotted another one coming up from a hatch in the roof.
“Oh, no,” she breathed, hardly able to speak for the
cutting edge of steel that was biting into the skin at her
throat.
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The big male leaned past her to see what was happen-
ing on the roof. Lucan had returned to his feet. He sliced
the first Rogue who had jumped him, lacing open the big
vampire’s gut. The Rogue’s scream was audible even over
the loud drone of the helicopter’s rotors. Its body started
convulsing, spasming . . . melting.
Lucan’s head pivoted around to the helicopter. Fury
blazed out of his eyes, glowing like twin embers lit by hell-
fire. He lunged forward, roaring, shoulders bunched.
Coming at the vehicle like a freight train.
“Get us out of here now!” shouted the male beside
Gabrielle, the first true trace of worry she’d heard in him.
“Now, goddamn it!”
The helicopter started lifting.
Gabrielle tried to shrink away from the bite of the
blade by pressing her spine into the back of the small rear
seat. If she could just find a way to knock his arm away, she
might be able to reach the cockpit door—
There was a sudden lurch of the helicopter, as if they
had snagged on some part of the building. The engine
whined, straining.
Her captor was fuming now. “Take off, you idiot!”
“I’m trying, sire!” said the Minion at the controls. He
pulled a lever and the engine protested with a terrible
groan.
There was another lurch, a sharp downward tug that
rattled everything inside the helicopter. The cockpit rolled
forward. Gabrielle’s captor lost his grounding on the seat,
a momentary inattention.
The blade left her throat.
With a burst of sheer determination, she threw herself
backward and kicked out with both legs, shoving him into
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the back of the pilot’s seat. The vehicle pitched sharply
forward. She scrambled for the latch on the cockpit door.
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