Savior of Midnight

by Debbie Cassidy

  We slammed through the double doors into the warehouse.

  “We get to the van and we radio for backup,” Rivers said. “I get my sword and we head back and do what we can.”

  Okay, yeah, we could do this. We wove through the warehouse past pallets loaded high with plastic-wrapped goods.

  Almost at the loading bay doors.

  My danger alarm went off full blast just before a growl blasted us from above. We ground to a halt, bodies instinctively going into a defensive crouch, and slowly raised our heads to take in the Breed crouched atop a pile of packed goods. His claws caressed the box he was perched on, body already mid-morph—part man, part something else. Hyenas, that’s what they reminded me of. While the Lupin were man-wolves, the Breed were man-hyenas, and this one’s wide mouth filled with carnivorous teeth was a sadistic grin waiting to tear us to shreds. But it was alone, so we had it outnumbered. My daggers would take him out easily enough. Rivers must have been thinking the same thing because his body tensed, ready to counter the creature’s attack, ready to fight.

  The Breed cocked his head. “I thought I smelled neph,” he said thickly.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Rivers said. “Most of these humans are under House protection.”

  “There is no protection,” the Breed said. “There are no rules any longer, only survival of the fittest. Only the fucking food chain.”

  He made a wet, gurgling sound that sent gooseflesh racing across my skin. Laughing, he was fucking laughing at us. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention, and the reason for his mirth became evident.

  He wasn’t alone.

  Chapter 3

  “Don’t,” Rivers said.

  He was speaking to me, warning me not to turn around, but there was no need for the heads up because my sixth sense told me all I needed to know. There were two Breed behind us and one on either side of us. They had us surrounded.

  We were so screwed.

  Rivers straightened, and cocked his head. “Did Asher put you up to this?” he asked.

  “Fuck the shade,” the Breed said. “We follow no one.”

  That was bullshit, because Asher had Max, the Breed leader, in his pocket, which meant that these Breed were a rogue faction. Oh man, we were double screwed.

  Rivers shrugged. “So you’re independent. Good for you.” His tone was casual, unaffected. What the heck was he playing at? I shot him a probing glance, but his attention was on the ringleader above us. “Look. You’ve got your humans. You don’t need us, especially if you’re giving Asher and Max the finger. Taking us out would only help them out.”

  The Breed above us lowered his head, his feral eyes narrowing slightly. Was he actually considering letting us go? Hope flared in my chest, followed closely by the bitch of all guilt pangs, because here I was willing to run and leave the humans to die. What kind of neph did that make me, and why would Rivers even suggest such a thing unless he had a plan ... please let him have a plan.

  Rivers sighed. “So, are you going to let us go or are you going to kill us? Whatever it is, just get on with it already.” He picked an imaginary piece of lint off his cuff.

  That wet, guttural sound filled the warehouse again as the Breed threw back his head and laughed, and then he snapped off the sound with a click of his jaws.

  “You think you can manipulate me?” he said. “I can smell your fear, sharp and potent, but ...” He canted his head. “You don’t fear for your own life. You fear for hers.” He turned the full force of his glowing yellow gaze on me.

  Rivers shifted his body to cover me.

  Bad, this was bad.

  “I think we’re going to kill you now,” the Breed said.

  They dropped down toward us, huge, muscular bodies in various stages of shift. I lashed out with my blades, catching a blow here or there, but they were fast. They were too strong, and the space was too confined to do anything but defend.

  Claws scraped my arm, snagging on the leather of my jacket. I spun and buried my blade into flesh and fur and was rewarded with a roar of pained rage. Rivers took down another and then snagged me around the waist, pulling me against him and out of the trajectory of a pair of lethal claws, leaving the air an inch from my face to take the brunt of the swipe. My heart jumped into my mouth. So close. So—

  But we were running again, deeper into the warehouse, with the Breed on our tail.

  “Fuck!” Rivers slammed on the brakes, and my heart sank when I saw why.

  Dead end. There was no exit here, just stone walls lined with crates.

  Rivers grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him, his eyes bright. “It’s two against two now. We can do this. I’ll distract them and you run, you got it?”

  “Wait, I have the daggers. I can finish them off.”

  Rivers backed me against a pile of boxes, covered me with his body.

  “Rivers, what are you doing?”

  “Just stay behind me,” Rivers growled.

  The Breed advanced—three on two now. Rivers was shielding me, ready to take the blows to buy me some time. He was willing to die for me. Something inside me cracked, and heat flooded my limbs as my power surged to the surface.

  I shoved him away and stood by his side. “We do this together.”

  He shot me a hard glance, but there was no time to argue because the monsters were on us, and the world melted away, leaving only claw, fang, and dagger. My body reacted and acted on instinct, no time to think or assess, only to attack and defend. We fought, back to back, ducking and rotating to avoid getting our throats ripped out. Rivers evaded using his body as a battering ram to push back the threat, giving me time to slip in and slice an artery here or stab a vital organ there.

  Two went down in minutes and then the third turned tail and ran. Like fuck was he going to get back up. We put up a chase, grabbing him before he could burst back out onto the shop floor and bringing him down with a dagger to the brain.

  We stood staring at each other, chests heaving, faces and clothes coated in coppery, thick blood. This was what it was about, the thrill of the chase, the exhilaration of the kill. This was the darkness speaking, and for a moment, it was all there was. Rivers’s pupils ate at his pale irises and then his mouth was on mine, his hand gripping the back of my neck as he devoured my mouth with kisses. He was blood and rage and vengeance, and fuck if I didn’t want to tear off his clothes and take him right there.

  The warehouse door slammed open and Rivers released me, pushing me away as if I’d scalded him. He blinked down at me as if seeing me for the first time, and then focused on the dead Breed on the floor.

  Ryker stood there, eyes wide as he took in the scene. “Fucking hell. Thank fuck you’re both okay.”

  Behind him, Protectorate swarmed the aisles, hunting down the last of the Breed.

  “How many dead humans?” Rivers asked.

  “Six,” Ryker said. “But we saved fifteen.”

  Rivers pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe the blood from his face. “Who called it in?”

  “One of the humans who’d just left the supermarket saw the Breed go in. He called the MED and they pinged us.”

  Rivers continued to wipe at the blood, his knuckles white and his jaw tight. “I’m going to head back to the van.” He walked off toward the loading bay.

  “You okay?” Ryker asked me.

  “Honestly, it was touch-and-go there for a minute.”

  He held the warehouse door open. “Come on, let’s get you home and cleaned up.”

  ***

  “The others aren’t happy about having a shade in our midst, and this Breed attack on the supermarket has just made them more wary of what they deem the bad guys,” Ryker said from his spot on my bed.

  God, being in charge sucked sometimes, all the smoothing ruffled feathers and the pep talks to encourage cooperation. It was exhausting. “They’ll just have to get over it. Until Xavier proves he can’t be trusted, he stays. Just remind them that if it w
asn’t for Xavier, then Abbadon would still be rotting in Asher’s lab underground and we’d probably be overrun by spider-shades.”

  I pulled the brush through the tangles in my hair, wincing with each tug. It was all washed and dried, but it had been a tangle before I’d stepped in the shower and was even more of one now. I really needed to brush it daily, or get it cut off, whatever worked. Cutting it sounded good right now, especially with the mess staring back at me from the dresser mirror.

  He chuckled. “Your face...” He opened his legs and patted the bed between them. “Come here.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and held up the brush. “Seriously?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I can wield a damned brush.”

  Handing him the brush, I climbed up and settled on the bed between his thighs. He parted my hair, twisted a section, and then began to tease out the tangles.

  “What do you do? Just scrape it back and go?” he asked.

  “Pretty much.”

  “You need to brush it every day, Serenity.”

  “Are we seriously having this conversation?”

  That warm, rumbling chuckle again. “Almost done.”

  “Really?” I’d barely felt a thing. The man was a genius.

  He ran his fingers through my smooth, untangled locks, sending delicious shivers up and down my spine and teasing goosebumps to life across my skin. I leaned back against him, and his hands skimmed down my arms and then settled around my waist. This felt good, comfortable, and right. My body relaxed against him, and he nuzzled the top of my head, teasing more goosebumps to life down my neck and across my shoulders. The silence was suddenly pregnant with expectation. How many times had we done this? Lain together, held each other, slept twined in each other’s arms. But of late, a new ache had flared to life inside me, a yearning to touch and be touched, a need to be closer still. As if sensing my thoughts, he shifted against me, revealing his desire, hard and throbbing against the base of my spine.

  I pushed back, slow and deliberate, rubbing that sensitive place.

  “Serenity ...” It was part moan, part plea.

  My heart thudded, sluggish and hard. Each beat connected to the pulse of his desire. Our fingers interlocked and I squeezed, pushing back against him again to make my intention clear.

  He nuzzled my neck and then moved up to nibble on my earlobe, but it wasn’t enough. I needed his lips on mine. I needed to taste him. As always, he echoed my thoughts with his actions, lifting me and rolling so he was on top of me, looking down on me with his cerulean eyes. His golden hair was in need of a cut and fell across his brow. I reached up to brush it back, and then, on impulse, raked my fingers through the silken tresses, eliciting a low growl which sent a sweet spike of pleasure through me. Mr. Control was rattled. Wicked thoughts flitted through my mind and my daimon stirred, ready for some action. I lifted my head and flicked out my tongue to sweep it across his bottom lip before taking it in my mouth and sucking on it gently. His fingers tightened on my waist and hip and his groin rolled against mine, promising me slick, penetrating pleasure. My moan joined his, hands tightening on the nape of his neck as he took control of the kiss. Teasing and soft, it tugged at a hidden part of me, the soft kernel buried under the bravado. He tapped into it with the scrape of his teeth and the rasp of his tongue. He anchored me with the pressure of his fingers on my flesh, firm but gentle. I moaned in protest as he broke the kiss. He locked gazes with me and penetrated my soul.

  “This is happening.” His voice was thick with desire.

  My breath was coming shallow and fast. “Yeah. This is happening.”

  He traced my mouth with his index finger and then leaned in and kissed my eyelids almost reverently before sliding the tip of his nose against mine. My core tightened, my breath stalled. This felt more intimate than the kiss. This speared me, pinned me to the spot and opened me up.

  “Ryker ...” I brushed my lips against the corner of his mouth and felt his smile.

  “I want to make love to you.” It was a plea that undid me.

  “Please.”

  He leaned back, straddling me, his thighs bracketing mine. His gaze remained locked on mine as he reached over his head and peeled off his T-shirt. He was a feast for the eyes, his golden torso rippling with muscle beneath velvet skin as he moved. Those axe-wielding, powerful shoulders and broad back corded with muscle and sinew begged to be explored. But he held me captive, trapped in crystalline sky, breath tight in my lungs as his calloused fingers scraped against my sensitive skin, peeling off my clothes. It was an age until we were both naked, an age that melted quick as a snowflake on an eyelash. And when our skin touched, fire raged through me, consuming every thought.

  We explored for an age. Every dip and plane was loved. Every arch and pulse was tasted until my every nerve was throbbing and screaming for release, and even the slightest brush felt like sweet agony. I needed to have this moment, to take control, to give myself to him—this man who’d been my confidant, my friend, and now finally my lover. Straddling him, our gazes connected, I lowered myself onto him. The blood rushed in my ears as he filled me. His fingers bit into my hips, and his chest rose and fell erratically. His hips jerked and a gasp tore from my lips.

  “Wait.” I pushed down on his shoulders and bore down until we were locked in place, and then I began to move.

  His eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment and a low rumble lit up his chest. “Fuck. Oh fucking hell, Serenity.”

  His words were drowned out by the sensation, by the shocks of pleasure lighting up my body, by the rolling, tightening build at my core as I reached the tipping point. I fell into his eyes, into the inky depths, flesh to flesh, soul to soul. The delineation between us blurred as we were finally one.

  ***

  Ryker finished braiding my hair and then pulled me against him, resting his chin on the top of my head. Our reflection stared back at us from the full-length mirror. We looked good together—him so golden and me with my auburn tresses. My skin was pale against his where our fingers twined over my abdomen.

  “I’m on patrol in a bit,” Ryker said softly. “I wish I didn’t have to go.”

  “Me too.”

  He pressed a kiss to my temple and then released me to step away. “Can I see you tonight?”

  I caught my bottom lip between my teeth. “If by see you mean make love, then sure.”

  He chuckled, his baby blues twinkling. “I’ll see you later.” He headed for the door, and then paused with his hand on the handle. “I know Drayton is trapped inside Xavier, but please be careful around Xavier. He helped us out, but he’s still a shade, and there may be more we don’t know about them.”

  “I know.”

  He left me with the warning, and I zipped on my boots. My patrol wasn’t till later. I’d be headed to SPD for the evening. My skin felt hot and tight, a sign that the power was reaching its maximum. A kill tonight would be perfect. If not, I’d have to hope that I’d be able to hold out a couple of days until we attacked the shades at the railway.

  In the meantime, I’d check up on Marika, see how she was doing with Death looking over her shoulder, find out if they’d had word from Oleander about a possible solution to my power-recycling problem. Realistically, the latter was probably a no, because Ambrosius would have found me to tell me if they’d stumbled across anything useful.

  It was a long shot. The whole thing was a prayer, and even though there was no one listening, hope was addictive, and I’d cling to it for as long as possible. But then I stepped out of my room and came face to face with Death.

  He was dressed in dark denim and a navy blue shirt that made his hair and eyes pop eerily.

  He arched a brow. “Still alive, I see.”

  I bristled. “Surely you’d know if it were otherwise.” I glanced behind him. “Where is Marika?”

  He shrugged. “Around.”

  “Didn’t you say you couldn’t go anywhere without her?”

  He gave me a close-lipped smile
.

  “Wow. I bet that’s pissed her off.”

  “She’ll live.” His pale eyes bore into me. “But you won’t. Not for much longer.”

  My pulse skipped. “Marika told you?”

  “She didn’t have to. I can see it, sense it. There is no escaping your fate.”

  Alarm bells went off in the back of my mind. He was lying, but about which part? The part when he said Marika hadn’t told him anything or the part about there being no escape from my fate? And did he have to sound so flippant about it all?

  His expression shuttered as if he’d sensed my thoughts, and he took a step back. “It won’t hurt for long.” He smiled and it was weirdly comforting. “I can promise you that much. I can promise you that once it is over you will finally be home.”

  A strange yearning assaulted me, tugging me toward him. No. This was way too weird. Too much. I forced my feet to take a step back. “Yeah, well, I’m perfectly at home here, thank you, and I intend to stick around.” The words sounded desperate even to my ears, and the look of pity on his face almost undid me.

  I strode around him, making sure not to brush against him. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and help Marika strengthen the wards or something. No one gets a free ride here. You need to earn your keep if you’re going to be sticking around.”

  “Or what?” he called out. “You’ll send me back?”

  I stopped halfway down the hall and turned to deliver a retort, but the space behind me was empty. He was already gone.

  ***

  There was no news from Oleander, but that was no surprise. Long shot, remember? Marika was holed up in the library with the Order, looking for a solution on our end; Abbadon was in the care of the Black Wings, recovering from being held prisoner in Asher’s underground lab; and Abigor was playing mother hen, allowing no one near him. Ava and the human unit had been my next stop. They’d just returned from patrolling Midnight and were either crashing or grabbing food. Yeah, someone had done what Rivers and I’d failed at and stocked up the kitchen. Yay for initiative. Now that the ghosts were gone, the humans were back on form. The only problem was the shade activity seemed to have dropped off. But then it had only been two days since we’d killed off Asher’s advantage. He was probably still reeling and regrouping, which was why the rebel Breed had felt confident about attacking the supermarket earlier.