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Midnight Breed - Book - 01

Page 42

by Kiss of Midnight


  It swung open wildly, flapping on its hinges as the whole

  compartment shook and wobbled. Her captor was righting

  himself, about to grab for her again. His sunglasses had

  fallen off in the chaos. He glared at her with icy gray eyes,

  full of malice.

  “Tell Lucan this is far from over,” the leader of the

  Rogues ordered her, hissing the words through an evil

  smile.

  “Go to hell,” Gabrielle shot back at him. In that same

  instant, she lunged for the open space of the door and

  dropped the several feet down onto the roof.

  As soon as he saw her, Lucan let go of the helicopter’s

  landing rail. The vehicle jolted upward, spinning crazily as

  the pilot struggled to gain control of his ascent.

  He raced to Gabrielle’s side and pulled her to her feet,

  hands roaming all over her to make sure she was in one

  piece. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded jerkily. “Lucan behind you!”

  On the roof, another Rogue was heading for them.

  Lucan met the challenge with pleasure, now that Gabrielle

  was with him, every muscle in his body primed for dealing

  death. He drew another blade and pounded toward the

  approaching threat.

  The fight was savage and swift. With fists flying, blades

  slashing, Lucan and the Rogue engaged in a deadly hand-

  to-hand combat. Lucan took more than one hit, but he

  was unstoppable. Gabrielle’s blood was still strong within

  him, giving him a fury that would have been a match for

  ten opponents at once. He struck hard and with lethal

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  efficiency, dispatching the Rogue with a vertical slice to its

  body.

  Lucan didn’t wait to see the titanium do its thing. He

  spun around and ran back to Gabrielle. Once he was in

  reach of her, all he could do was pull her into his arms and

  hold her fast against him. He could have stayed there all

  night, just breathing her in, feeling her heart beat, stroking

  her soft skin.

  He lifted her chin and placed a fiercely tender kiss on

  her lips. “We have to get out of here, baby. Right now.”

  Above their heads, the helicopter was rising higher.

  From out of the clear cockpit, the Gen One vampire

  who’d taken Gabrielle stared down through the glass en-

  closure. He gave Lucan a vague salute, grinning as his ride

  ascended into the night sky.

  “Oh, God, Lucan! I was so scared. If anything had

  happened to you . . .”

  Gabrielle’s whisper made him forget all about his es-

  caping enemy. The only thing that mattered to him was

  that she was able to talk to him. She was breathing.

  Gabrielle was with him, and he hoped to God he could

  keep her that way.

  “How the hell did they get to you?” he asked, his voice

  shaking with urgency and the sharp aftershocks of his fear.

  “After you left the compound tonight, I needed to get

  away and think. I went home. Kendra showed up. She had

  Jamie held hostage in a car outside. I couldn’t let them hurt

  him. Kendra is—was—a Minion, Lucan. They killed her.

  My friend is dead.” Gabrielle gave a sudden sob. “But

  Jamie got away, at least. He’s somewhere downtown, prob-

  ably scared out of his mind. I need to find him and make

  sure he’s all right.”

  Lucan heard the low clip of the helicopter as it rose

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  higher above them. He had to give Niko the signal to blow

  the place before the Rogues inside had a chance to escape,

  too.

  “Let’s get out of here, then we’ll deal with the rest.”

  Lucan scooped Gabrielle off her feet and up into his arms.

  “Hold on to me, sweetheart. Tight as you can.”

  “Okay.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He kissed her again, relief flooding him to have her in

  his arms.

  “Don’t ever let go,” he said, looking into the shining,

  beautiful eyes of his Breedmate.

  Then he stepped over the edge of the roof and dropped

  with her, as soft as he could manage, down to the ground

  below.

  “Lucan, talk to me, man!” Nikolai called over the ear-

  piece. “Where are you? What the fuck is going on out

  there?”

  “Everything’s al right,” he answered, carrying Gabriel e

  swiftly across the darkened grass of the property, toward

  where the warriors’ SUV waited. “Everything’s going to

  be all right now. Hit the detonator and let’s finish this

  thing.”

  Gabrielle was huddled under the strong curve of Lucan’s

  arm as the SUV pulled onto the road leading to the com-

  pound’s estate. He’d been holding her close to him since

  they’d escaped the asylum grounds, shielding her eyes as

  the entire complex of buildings had gone up in a hellish

  ball of fire.

  Lucan and his brethren had actually done it—they’d

  taken out the Rogues’ headquarters in one awesome strike.

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  The helicopter had managed to elude the explosion, van-

  ishing skyward into the black smoke and cover of night.

  Lucan was pensive, staring out the tinted window, up

  into the canopy of stars. Gabrielle had seen his look of

  surprise—of stunned disbelief—when he’d been up on the

  roof and thrown open the helicopter’s cockpit door.

  It was as if he’d seen a ghost.

  The mood carried with him even now as they entered

  the estate and Nikolai drove toward the garage. The war-

  rior pulled the vehicle to a stop inside the huge hangar.

  When he cut the engine, Lucan finally spoke.

  “Tonight we scored an important victory against our

  enemies.”

  “Hell yeah,” Nikolai agreed. “And we avenged Conlan

  and Rio. They would’ve loved to have been there to see

  that place blow.”

  Lucan nodded in the dark vehicle. “But make no mis-

  take, we are entering a new phase of conflict with the

  Rogues. This is war now, more than ever. Tonight we’ve

  stirred the hornet’s nest. But the one we needed to get—

  their leader—is still alive.”

  “Let him run. We’ll get him,” Dante said, grinning

  confidently.

  But Lucan gave a grim shake of his head. “This one is

  different. He won’t make it easy. He’ll anticipate our

  moves. He’ll understand our tactics. The Order is going to

  need to strengthen its strategies and increase its numbers.

  We need to organize the few remaining cadres around the

  world, bring in more warriors, the sooner the better.”

  Gideon pivoted around in the front seat. “You think it’s

  the Gen One out of the West Coast who’s leading the

&nbs
p; Rogues?”

  “I’m sure of it,” Lucan answered. “He was in the

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  helicopter on the roof tonight, where he was holding

  Gabrielle.” He stroked her arm with tender affection,

  pausing to look at her as if the mere sight of her reassured

  him in some way. “And the bastard’s not a Rogue—not

  now, if he ever was. Once, he was a warrior, like us. His

  name is Marek.”

  Gabrielle felt a cold blast coming from the SUV’s third

  row of seats and knew that Tegan was looking at Lucan.

  Lucan knew it, too. He swiveled his head to meet the

  other warrior’s stare. “Marek is my brother.”

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  The weight of Lucan’s revelation followed them as they

  exited the vehicle and took the hangar’s elevator down into

  the compound. Standing beside Lucan, Gabrielle laced

  her fingers through his as they descended. Shock and sym-

  pathy clawed at her heart, and when he glanced over at

  her, she knew he could read the worry in her eyes.

  Gabrielle saw similar looks of concern reflected in the

  eyes of Lucan’s warrior brethren as well, an unspoken ac-

  knowledgment of what the night’s discovery meant.

  The time was going to come that Lucan would have to

  face killing his own brother.

  Or be killed by him.

  Gabrielle hardly had a chance to absorb that cold fact

  before the elevator doors opened on Savannah and

  Danika, who were waiting anxiously for the warriors’ re-

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  turn. There were relieved welcomes, dozens of questions

  about the outcome of the night’s mission, as well as wor-

  ried inquiries into what on earth had made Gabrielle leave

  the compound without a word to anyone. Gabrielle was

  too tired to answer, too exhausted from the entire ordeal to

  even try to express what she was feeling.

  But she knew she would have to provide some answers

  soon, to Lucan at least.

  She watched as he was ushered away by the other war-

  riors amid talk of war tactics and new battle strategies to

  be used against the Rogues. Gabrielle was swiftly pulled in

  an opposite direction by Savannah and Danika. They fret-

  ted over her sundry scrapes and bruises, insisting that she

  take a warm meal and a long, hot bath.

  Gabrielle reluctantly agreed, but not even Savannah’s

  amazing cooking or the fragrant heat of the soak that fol-

  lowed could relax her.

  Her mind was spinning with thoughts about Lucan,

  Jamie, and everything that had happened that night. She

  owed Lucan her life. She loved him more than anything,

  would always be grateful to him for his rescuing her, but it

  didn’t change how she felt about the way things had been

  going between them. She couldn’t stay at the compound

  like this. And no matter what he said, she wasn’t about to

  enter one of the Darkhavens.

  So, what did that leave? She couldn’t go back to her

  apartment, either. Her old life no longer fit. To return to it

  meant she would have to deny everything she’d experi-

  enced with Lucan these past weeks and work to forget him.

  She would have to deny all that she now understood about

  herself, and her connection to the Breed.

  The truth was, she didn’t know where she belonged

  now. She didn’t know where to begin looking, but as she

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  walked the compound’s maze of corridors, Gabrielle

  found herself standing outside Lucan’s private quarters.

  The door to the main apartment was ajar; a soft light

  glowed from within. Gabrielle pushed it open, then

  stepped inside.

  Candlelight flickered in the adjacent bedroom. She fol-

  lowed the ambient warmth to the threshold and paused

  there, marveling at what she saw. Lucan’s austere bedroom

  had been transformed into something out of a dream.

  Four tall black pillar candles set into intricate silver sconces

  burned in each corner. Red silk draped the bed. On the

  floor before the fireplace was a cushioned nest of fluffy pil-

  lows and even more crimson silk. It looked so romantic, so

  inviting.

  A room intended for lovemaking.

  She took a step farther inside. Behind her, the door

  closed softly on its own.

  No, not quite on its own. Lucan was there, standing on

  the other side of the room, watching her. His hair was

  damp from a shower. He wore a loosely tied, satiny red

  robe that skated around his bare calves, and there was a

  heated look in his eyes that melted her where she stood.

  “For you,” he said, indicating the romantic setting. “For

  us tonight. I want things to be special for you.”

  Gabrielle was moved, instantly aroused by the sight of

  him, but she couldn’t bear to make love the way things had

  been left between them.

  “When I left tonight, I wasn’t going to come back,” she

  told him from the safety of distance. If she went any closer,

  she didn’t think she’d have the strength to say what had to

  be said. “I can’t do this anymore, Lucan. I need things

  from you that you can’t give me.”

  “Name them.” It was a soft command, but still a com-

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  mand. He moved toward her with careful steps, as though

  he sensed she might bolt on him at any second. “Tell me

  what you need.”

  She shook her head. “What would be the use?”

  A few more slow steps. He paused just beyond an arm’s

  length. “I’d like to know. I’m curious what it would take to

  convince you to stay with me.”

  “For the night?” she asked quietly, hating herself for

  how badly she needed to feel his arms around her after

  what she’d been through these past several hours.

  “I want you, and I’m prepared to offer you anything,

  Gabrielle. So, tell me what you need.”

  “Your trust,” she said, tossing out something she felt

  was well out of reach. “I can’t . . . do this anymore, when

  you don’t trust me.”

  “I do trust you,” he said, so solemnly she actually be-

  lieved him. “You are the only one who’s ever really known

  me, Gabrielle. There is nothing I can hide from you.

  You’ve seen it all—the worst, certainly. I’d like the chance

  to show you some of the good in me.” He moved closer.

  She could feel heat coming off his body. She could sense

  his desire. “I want you to feel as safe with me as you’ve al-

&nbs
p; lowed me to feel with you. So, the question is, can you trust

  me, knowing everything about me that you do?”

  “I’ve always trusted you, Lucan. I always will. But that’s

  not—”

  “What else, then?” he asked, cutting her denial short.

  “Tell me what else I can give you to make you stay.”

  “This isn’t going to work,” she said, inching backward.

  “I can’t stay. Not like this. Not when my friend Jamie . . .”

  “He is safe.” When Gabrielle looked at Lucan, con-

  fused, he said, “I sent Dante topside to find him soon after

  we arrived. He reported back a few minutes ago that he

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  retrieved your friend from a police station downtown and

  took him home.”

  Relief flared in her, but it was quickly followed by con-

  cern. “What did Dante tell him? Did he wipe Jamie’s

  memory?”

  Lucan shook his head. “I didn’t think it would be fair to

  make that decision for you. Dante merely told him that

  you were safe as well and that you would be in contact with

  him soon to explain. Whatever you wish to tell your friend

  is up to you. You see? Trust, Gabrielle.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, warmed by the consider-

  ation. “Thank you for helping me tonight. You saved my

  life.”

  “Then why are you afraid of me now?”

  “I’m not afraid,” she said, but she was moving away

  from him, hardly aware of that fact until the bed came up

  behind her, blocking her escape. In an instant, he was right

  there in front of her.

  “What more do you want from me, Gabrielle?”

  “Nothing,” she said, hardly more than a whisper.

  “Nothing at all?” he replied, his voice dark, demanding.

  “Please. Don’t make me want to stay with you tonight

  when you will only wish me gone tomorrow. Let me go

  now, Lucan.”

  “I can’t do that.” He took her hand and lifted it to his

  lips. His mouth was warm and soft on her fingertips, weav-

  ing a spell around her as only he could do. He brought her

  hand closer, pressing her palm to his chest, to the heavy

  throb that beat against his ribs like a drum. “I can’t ever let

  you go, Gabrielle. Because whether you want it from me or

  not, you have my heart. You have my love, too. If you’ll ac-

  cept it.”

  She swallowed hard. “What?”

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