by Lara Adrian
“Going somewhere?” Megan’s boyfriend strolled forward, and gestured to the stuffed duffel bag that lay on the floor beside Lucan’s feet.
“Um, yeah,” Gabrielle interjected, walking swiftly past Ray and putting herself between him and Lucan. “I’ve been a little shaken up tonight. I thought I’d go to a hotel and chill out. Lucan stopped by to give me a ride.”
“Huh.” Ray was trying to peer around her to where Lucan remained rudely stoic and silent. Lucan’s scathing stare said he had already sized up the young cop—and dismissed him in that same instant.
“I wish you hadn’t come, you guys,” Gabrielle said. And that was the God’s honest truth. “Really, you don’t have to stay.”
Megan walked over and took Gabrielle’s hand protectively in hers. “Ray and I were hoping you’d consider coming with us to the police station, honey. It’s important. I’m sure your friend would agree with us. You’re the detective Gabby’s mentioned, right? I’m Meg.”
Lucan shifted a step. The small movement brought him right up in front of Megan and Ray. It was such a slight flex of muscle, so fast, time seemed to slow around him. Gabrielle saw him take those handful of impossibly quick strides, but her friends blinked and found Lucan standing in their faces, crowding them with his massive size and a menace that vibrated in the air around him.
Without any warning at all, he lifted his right hand and took Megan by the forehead.
“Lucan, no!”
Meg cried out, a half-uttered noise that died in her throat as she stared into Lucan’s eyes. With viper speed, he reached out with his left hand and clamped Ray in a similar hold. The officer struggled for a mere second before his face drooped into a trancelike stupor. Lucan’s strong, clutching fingers seemed to be all that was holding the pair upright.
“Lucan, please! I’m begging you!”
“Get the memory sticks and the duffel bag,” he told her, his voice calm. Coldly commanding. “I have a car waiting outside. Get in, and wait for me. I’ll be right out.”
“I’m not going leave you here to bleed my friends dry.”
“If that had been my intent, they’d already be dead on the floor.”
He was right. God, but she had no doubt that this man—this dark being she had admitted into her life—was dangerous enough to do just that.
But he hadn’t. And he wouldn’t; she trusted that much about him.
“The pictures, Gabrielle. Now.”
She jolted into action, hefting the bulky duffel bag over her shoulder and dropping the two flash drives into the front pocket of her jeans. On the way out, she paused to look at Megan’s blank face. Her eyes were closed now, as were Ray’s. Lucan was murmuring something to them in a voice so low she could hardly hear it.
The tone of his words didn’t sound threatening, but oddly soothing, persuasive. Almost lulling.
With one last glance at the bizarre scene taking place in her living room, Gabrielle dashed out the open front door and down onto the street. A sleek sedan waited at the curb, parallel parked in front of Ray’s red Mustang. It was an expensive vehicle—incredibly expensive, from the looks of it—and the only other car around.
As she approached, the front passenger door opened as if it had been willed to do so.
Willed by the sheer strength of Lucan’s mind, she knew, wondering just how far his preternatural powers might reach.
She slid into the deep leather seat and closed the door. Not two seconds later, Megan and Ray appeared on her front stoop. They calmly walked down the steps and right past her on the sidewalk, eyes straight ahead of them, neither of them saying a word.
Lucan was directly behind them. He closed the apartment door and came around the car where Gabrielle waited. He climbed in, stuck a key in the ignition, and started the Maybach’s engine.
“Not a good idea to leave these behind,” he said, dropping her purse and camera bag into her lap.
Gabrielle stared at him across the subtly lit cockpit of the vehicle. “You did some kind of mind control on them, like you’ve tried to do with me before.”
“I suggested to your friends that they had never been at your apartment tonight.”
“You erased their memory?”
He inclined his head in a vague nod. “They won’t recall 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 humans, 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.”
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 residential block on Willow Street.
As the distance grew wider, she saw the vague silhouettes 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.
CHAPTER
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, approaching 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 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 approached. 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 windows, 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 collection 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 motorcycles, 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.
“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 button 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 elevator 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 private trusts. Everything the Breed does is legit and aboveboard.”
“Legit and aboveboard. Right.” She laughed, a bit nervously. “Just nevermind all the bloodsucking or the extraterrestrial lineage.”
Lucan leveled a dark glance on her, but she was relieved 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 acknowledge it. She didn’t want to admit what just the slightest brush of his skin made her feel, even now.
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 designs 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 authentication 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 conversation, 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 computers lining a long, U-shaped console, digital readers flashing some kind of coordinates from another bank of equipment, and in the center of it all, moving on his rolling chair between the many workstations like a concert maestro, was 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 cleaning the disassembled parts of some complicated type of handgun.
They were all staring at her.
“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 introduction, 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 muscular 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 totally 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 explanation, 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, 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, getting 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 monitors.
“Yes! You beautiful bucket of bolts,” he shouted, dropping into a spin in his chair. “Guys, you’ll want t
o 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 center 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 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 beginning 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 between 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 departure, 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 attention 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 question.
“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.”