Midnight Breed Series New Generation Box Set

by Adrian, Lara

  They crashed together and tumbled onto the pavement.

  Lucan scrambled to withdraw the titanium blade from its holster on his weapons belt as the Rogue’s gnashing fangs came at his face and throat in blinding speed. Finally, he worked the knife free.

  With the Rogue struggling for any advantage, he left himself open to attack. It was a fatal mistake. Lucan drove the titanium blade into the vampire’s side. The resulting shriek was ear-splitting, purely animal. With the Rogue convulsing from the wound, Lucan shoved the body away from him and got up to his feet.

  It wasn’t until he was standing that he heard the sawing breath of another Rogue at his back.

  He turned to face it, seeing the Rogue poised to spring at him. But instead of lunging, the vampire abruptly stilled, then dropped to the ground as dead weight.

  Dante stood a few feet away, one of his curved titanium daggers planted solidly in the Rogue’s spine.

  Lucan gave him a nod. “Thanks.”

  The warrior arched a dark brow. “Just like old times, eh?” He strode over and retrieved his weapon, cleaning it on the disintegrating Rogue’s jacket. “If this shit keeps up, Nikolai may have to go back to supplying us with titanium custom rounds from his command center in Montreal.”

  Lucan grunted at the reminder of the Siberian-born warrior with a penchant for weapons and explosives. “Things were different for us then. It’s a hell of a lot easier to put a lid on isolated strikes by one or two enemies at a time. Opus is global. And they’re making damned sure we feel the pressure from all sides.”

  As if the presence of Rogues in a major metropolitan city in the States wasn’t troubling enough, before the Order had rolled out of headquarters tonight, they had gotten more bad news. Gideon had received word that all three European commanders were reporting a spike in Rogue activity in their regions as well.

  “The hits keep coming,” Dante remarked, a grim look in his eyes. “I hate to guess what Opus thinks they can do while they’re keeping us busy playing Whack-a-Mole with Rogues and lone wolf attacks on government and law enforcement organizations.”

  Lucan didn’t want to guess either, but they had to if they meant to stay ahead of them enough to take the brotherhood down. “Unless Gideon cracks that encryption on their communications network, we don’t have many cards left to play.”

  “We’ve got the Breedmate in custody with Rafe and Aric,” Dante pointed out. “If she can ID the men who killed Iona Lynch, we can start there and follow the trail back to Opus from that end.”

  He had a point. But the panicked recollections of a shaken and injured eyewitness were hardly the kind of odds Lucan preferred. Still, Siobhan O’Shea was a better lead than nothing at all. Which is why he’d given instructions for Rafe and Aric to keep her close for the time being.

  The group was currently en route from Ireland to the command center in London. They needed to keep Iona Lynch’s roommate safe, and that meant ensuring Opus didn’t discover she was in Order hands.

  And while Lucan hoped things wouldn’t get bad enough to demand it, the Order also had another card to play against Opus if they had to.

  The Atlantean crystal.

  After witnessing its power with Zael and Jenna the other day, Lucan could not deny that he’d been thinking of little else. If two crystals had been used by the Ancients to destroy the entire realm of Atlantis, then nothing—and no one—would be able to stop the Order if they had another in their possession.

  Zael had divulged when they met for the first time that a group of Atlanteans who fled the realm and formed their own hidden colony had taken a crystal with them. The Order had Zael’s alliance, but Lucan dreaded that there might come a day—and soon—that they would also need his help in building a weapon capable of ending any war before it even had a chance to start.

  As the thought churned in his mind, Chase emerged from out of the shadows of a side street and headed their way.

  “Any sign of Brynne?” Lucan asked.

  Chase shook his head. “Found the SUV where Nathan said it would be, but it’s empty. Looks like she got out on her own and fled on foot. No sign of her anywhere, from what I could find.”

  Dante shrugged, smirking. “The way Zael poofed out of headquarters at the mention of her, I have a feeling when we find him, we’ve located Brynne too. Also, where do I sign up to get one of those cool Atlantean transporter bracelets?”

  Chase chuckled, but Lucan had a hard time feeling the humor. “Whatever is going on between Zael and Brynne, they picked a damned lousy time for it. We can’t afford distractions like this at headquarters when everything is going to shit around us.”

  Dante quirked a brow. “Talk about old times. I recall you saying that to more than a few of us back in the day. No doubt you told yourself that same shit when it came to Gabrielle too.”

  Yeah, he did and he had. It was an argument he wouldn’t win now, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  “Keep an eye out for both of them,” he instructed the two warriors. As he spoke, his comm unit buzzed his ear with an incoming call from Tegan, who was commanding another of the patrol teams that had fanned out to cover more ground. “What’ve you got?”

  “Six Rogues ashed between the park and the university,” Tegan said. “We’re all clear here. Rio and Kade are with Nathan near the government center and they’ve spotted another gang of Rogues over there.”

  Lucan swore under his breath. At this rate, it was going to be another long night.

  “I’m with Chase and Dante. We’re on our way there now.”

  CHAPTER 21

  If she needed confirmation of how hideous she was now—a monster—she had it.

  Zael went utterly still the instant his eyes locked on her transformation. He cursed something low under his breath, something in a language that she didn’t understand.

  “Brynne,” he murmured. “My God…”

  Her heart twisted at the stunned tone of his deep voice. She knew what he was seeing. She knew what she was—the flawed, imbalanced result of a DNA experiment that never should have happened.

  An anomaly.

  A mistake.

  An abomination.

  She slowly pulled herself up from her crouch in the corner of the old fire escape. Zael watched her move, caution in his stance and in his confused expression. The predator in her took great satisfaction in seeing a powerful being like Zael on guard as she rose to her feet. It was that part of her that worried her, too, because once the monster took hold of her, not even she could fully rein it in.

  “Stay away, Zael. I’m warning you.”

  “Tell me what happened. It’s okay, Brynne. I only want to understand.”

  She scoffed, certain the softness that crept into his tone was based on pity or revulsion. The inhuman part of her preferred his wariness over this tender attempt to put her at ease.

  She took a sideways step, following the railing of the fire escape.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked gently. “Tell me what’s wrong with you so I can try to help you.”

  She couldn’t contain the miserable moan that leaked out of her at the sincerity of his plea.

  He couldn’t help her, and she couldn’t stay near him. Not when she was like this.

  Not ever again, now that he knew the ugly secret she could no longer hide from him.

  “Brynne, please.” His brows drew together over tender, determined eyes. “Are you injured? Did those Bloodlusting fucks… Did they do this to you somehow?”

  A laugh burst out of her, caustic, coarse as gravel in her throat. “Those Rogues couldn’t harm me if they tried. Can’t you see that?”

  She didn’t want to throw his concern back in his face, but the predator in her was never stronger than in the grips of blood thirst or battle rage. Right now, Brynne was swamped by both. Fueled by hunger and adrenaline, she was a deadly creature.

  As much as the woman in her yearned for Zael’s comfort—for his compassion—the part of her that was
nearly pure Ancient saw only another obstacle in front of her. An enemy it recognized on a primal, instinctual level.

  One that needed to be destroyed.

  “Go away, Zael.” Her stare bathed his handsome face in amber light. The care she saw in his expression, in the way he unflinchingly held her transformed gaze, tore at her heart the way nothing in her life ever had before. She snarled, forcing herself to look away from him. “I said, leave me the fuck alone.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart. That’s not happening.” He took a step toward her on the narrow ironwork platform. “You think I’m going to walk away and leave you here like this? Come on, Brynne. Let me help you.”

  He reached out to her. Brynne dodged him, catapulting herself off the fire escape in one fluid leap.

  She landed in a crouch on the street below, ready to bolt on foot.

  But Zael was there in that next instant. She barely registered his motion, yet there he stood, blocking her path in the alleyway. His scowl knit his brows. “Don’t do this, damn it. Don’t shut me out, Brynne.”

  His gentle tone made the beast in her bristle. “Get away from me, Atlantean.”

  He shook his head, obstinate. Immovable. So dangerously foolish. “This is why you’ve been pushing me away? Because you were afraid I’d see you like this?” He swore softly, his scowl deepening. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Brynne.”

  “Afraid of you?” The predator in her all but spat the words. “Never.”

  Her vitriol didn’t seem to faze him at all. Zael held her stare, even took another step toward her. “You’re not alone. Don’t you see that?”

  “You’re wrong. I am alone. It’s you who can’t see that.” A hot breath gusted out of her, shaky, uneven. “I’ve been alone all my life. It’s the only way I’ve survived.”

  He gently shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way. Not anymore.”

  She eyed him warily as he closed more distance between them. Her senses filled with him, from the deliciously warm scent of his skin to the heat that radiated off his muscular body. Her head filled with the awareness of him as a man, as the one man she desired more than any before him.

  “Let me in, Brynne. You can trust me.”

  She tossed her head in automatic response, torn between wanting to believe him and wanting him as far away from her as possible. Her vision locked on his throat as he moved in closer. The drum of his pulse echoed in her skull, in her temples, in her marrow. She stared, riveted to that hard ticking of his heartbeat, as she had been when they’d lain together, naked in her bed.

  God help her, but the hunger with which she ached for him felt less about the monster and its cravings and more about the need to feel Zael inside her, comforting her with his body and his blood.

  On a groan, she stepped around him. Or, rather, she tried to. Zael stopped her, his body planted in front of her, physically barring her from getting past.

  “Dammit, Zael. Get out of my way and let me go.”

  He ignored all of her warnings. He ignored the unearthly rasp of her voice, which should have told him just how close she was to the edge.

  And it was too late now, too much for her to bear.

  Rage spiked through her, breaking loose from its thin leash. She shoved at him, but he was strong too. And he was fast. He grabbed her hands and held her still, restraining her.

  She roared, no longer in control of her senses or her reactions.

  The beast owned her now.

  The monstrous power she could not contain exploded out of her and she knew only that she was lethal like this. She couldn’t hold herself back—not even with Zael. A bellow shot out of her, anguished and unhinged fury setting her into motion.

  She broke loose from his hold and flew at him on a banshee howl.

  Zael raised his hands as if to fend her off. They were glowing, his fingers limned in pure white light. In the center of both palms, the symbol of a teardrop and crescent moon was illuminated with energy so pure it blinded her.

  She couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t fight him.

  Zael’s power was too strong.

  He touched her, and light instantly engulfed her vision. His light. It poured into her, obliterating her senses as it seeped into her mind and her limbs, and into every raging cell of her body.

  ~ ~ ~

  Zael knelt on the pavement, holding Brynne in his arms. She was unconscious, unmoving, except for the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

  He hated that he’d used his power on her—for several reasons—but she’d given him little choice.

  Brynne was formidable enough as a Breed female. What he saw in her just now was something far more lethal.

  Ancient.

  Or something damned close to it.

  He didn’t know how it was possible, but the proof had been right in front of his eyes.

  If relations between the Breed and his people were tenuous, it was nothing compared to the visceral loathing that every Atlantean felt toward their otherworldly enemies who had spawned the Breed on Earth. That hatred was especially strong in Zael and his former comrades of Selene’s royal legion, who had been on the front lines of every war with the Ancients.

  Yet despite what he saw in Brynne just now, it wasn’t hatred he felt for her.

  Holy hell. Far from it.

  Glancing down at her, he watched as the dermaglyphs that had been so livid and pronounced on her face and neck and limbs now began to subside. The glyphs on the backs of her hands had vanished, along with the black talons that had sprouted from the tips of her fingers in her transformation. She rested now, forced into a heavy calm.

  The light had done that for her, just as he’d hoped it would.

  He didn’t know what she needed, but one thing was for damned sure—he had no intention of leaving her side. Nor would he let her endure her torment alone.

  He needed to get her out of the city. He needed to see that she was safe.

  They both needed to get somewhere secure, before the recklessness of using his power brought even more problems down on them.

  Although he could teleport using the crystal amulet at his wrist, he couldn’t take her with him that way. Only Atlanteans could connect to the energy and use it to leap from one location to another.

  Scooping her up, he rose to his feet and carried her out of the alley. The city was ghostly quiet, no sign of the warriors on this dark, empty stretch of asphalt.

  Zael felt a jab of guilt for concealing Brynne and himself in the alley when Chase swept through earlier, searching for them. The Order was his ally, but if the warriors had a right to know about the secret Brynne was keeping, it would be on her terms and no one else’s.

  On the main street, the Order’s SUV still sat vacant at the curb. Zael brought Brynne to the vehicle and carefully set her in the passenger seat. He couldn’t resist reaching out to stroke her cheek. She stirred slightly under his touch, but her eyelids remained closed. Her face was slack and peaceful in her sleep, as sweet and innocent as a kitten.

  Zael gazed at the dark-haired beauty who had come into his life so unexpectedly and turned it upside down. He couldn’t deny the surge of possessiveness—the fierce protectiveness—that ran through him as he looked at her.

  Brynne Kirkland was no helpless kitten in need of saving. She’d be the first to tell him that, more than likely with her fangs bared and claws unsheathed the instant she awoke from the drowse he’d put her under.

  And given what he’d seen here tonight, he would do well to keep his distance.

  Damn it, if he were smart, he’d leave Brynne and her problems to the Order right here and now, and vanish back to the colony and his people where he belonged.

  Except he couldn’t stay away from this woman. Not since that first morning on the Order’s terrace patio. And sure as hell not after seeing the anguish in her eyes as she faced off against him, looking like something out of an old nightmare.

  She could fight him all she wanted. She could hate him
for refusing to do what she begged of him and leave her alone.

  It wouldn’t change what he felt when he looked at her now.

  She was his.

  Zael closed the passenger door, then went around to hop into the driver’s seat of the SUV. As soon as he hit the ignition, the dashboard comm unit illuminated with Gideon’s face on the display.

  “Zael,” the warrior said, surprise in his expression. “Jesus, where’ve you been, man? I’ve got two patrol teams scouring the city looking for you. Any sign of Brynne?”

  He nodded. “She’s here with me.”

  “Glad to hear it. Is she hurt?”

  “No.” Zael glanced at her resting in the seat beside him. There was no trace of trouble in her features. Nothing left of the Ancient that lurked under her skin. “She’s fine,” Zael said. “I’m bringing her in now.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Brynne startled awake from a nightmare more disturbing than any she’d had in a long time. Her breath raced, sawing raggedly past her parted lips. Her head throbbed. Worst of all, the back of her throat was raw and bitter with the coppery taste of blood.

  She moaned, her eyelids peeling open a fractional crack in the tranquil semidarkness. Soft mattress under her. Tall ceiling framed by elegant crown molding above her.

  Thank God.

  She was resting in her guest suite at Order headquarters, not crouching in some dank alley in Georgetown with a dead Rogue at her feet and her fangs sunk deep into the wrist of a dying human.

  Nor was she standing in front of Zael, blood-soaked and seething, exposed to him as the monster she truly was.

  Please…not that.

  And yet the images flew at her too vividly to be a dream. Not even one of the hellish night terrors that had haunted her so frequently since her time in Dragos’s labs could top the sensory torment that clung to her now.