Lara Adrian's Midnight Breed 8-Book Bundle

by Lara Adrian

  “My boss must not realize that when I said I was leaving Prague tonight, that meant I was leaving Prague tonight.”

  Or rather he did understand, and didn’t care. According to his e-mail, Dylan was supposed to meet the Czech photographer tomorrow for a return trip to Jiáín.

  Marie came over and glanced at the computer. “Is this about your story?”

  Dylan nodded. “He thinks it could be interesting with a few more pictures. He wants me to meet someone about it in the morning. He’s already set up the appointment for me.”

  “But we’re due at the train station in less than an hour,” Janet pointed out.

  “I know,” Dylan said, as she started typing a reply message to that effect.

  She explained that she and her companions were taking the evening train to Vienna—their last stop on the tour before they departed back home for the States. She wouldn’t be able to meet with the photographer because as of ten o’clock tonight, she wasn’t going to be around.

  Dylan finished typing the reply, but as she moved her cursor over the Send button, she hesitated to let the message go. She already had a reserved seat on Coleman Hogg’s shit list. If she turned down this appointment—for any reason—she knew without a doubt that she would be kissing her job good-bye.

  And as tempting as the thought actually was, getting herself fired was something she really couldn’t afford to do right now.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, sliding her mouse over to click the Delete button instead. “It’s too late for me to cancel this meeting, and I probably shouldn’t anyway. You all are going to have to continue on to Vienna without me. I have to stay behind and take care of this story.”

  Rio disembarked in Prague from a train packed with humans. Thanks to the blood he’d consumed and the rage that was coursing through every nerve ending in his body, his Breed instincts were locked on full alert as he stepped onto the platform of the busy station. Apparently his quarry had fled here, to Prague, after their confrontation earlier today. He’d been able to track her scent from the mountain into Jiáín. From there, with a bit of mental persuasion, the operator of the small hotel in town had been cooperative enough to direct him toward Prague, where the American female and her companions had mentioned they were heading for the last leg of their stay abroad.

  The tranced human had also been persuaded to fit Rio with a lightweight trench coat from the hotel’s lost-and-found. Although the taupe garment was out of season and several sizes too small, it did a decent job hiding the worst of the filthy, bloodstained rags he wore underneath. He didn’t give a shit about style or his looks, or even his certain stench, but he didn’t need to draw undue attention by walking into a public place like some kind of castaway freak show.

  Rio tried to mask his muscular bulk and height, assuming a hunched yet purposeful shuffle as he ambled through the busy station. No one gave him anything more than a passing glance, the humans subconsciously dismissing him as one of the dozen-plus homeless unfortunates who loitered near the platforms or slept in corners of the station as the trains screeched and roared through the terminal.

  With his head down to hide the scar-riddled left side of his face, eyes intense beneath the fall of his unkempt hair, Rio headed for the exit that would put him on a direct path into the heart of the city, where his hunt for the woman and her damning pictures would resume.

  Anger kept him focused, even when his head began to spin in the noisy, harshly lit cavern of the station. He ignored the swamping feelings of dizziness and confusion, pushing them down deep so he could find his course and keep it.

  Forcing his vision to clear, he moved through a tight knot of young men engaged in a sudden argument in the middle of the terminal. The verbal contest turned physical as Rio passed, one skinny kid from the group getting shoved into a well-dressed English tourist who was yammering on a cell phone as he hurried for the train. The unwitting mark scowled as he recovered from the very deliberate collision and continued on, unaware that he’d just lost his wallet to the gang of professional pickpockets. The thieves moved off with their score, dispersing into the crowd where they would probably pull the same stunt a few more times before the night was through.

  In another time, another place, Rio might have gone after the juvenile deliquents, just to set them straight. To show them that the night had eyes … and teeth, if they were too cocky to take a helpful hint.

  But he was through playing the dark angel to the humans who lived alongside his kind. Let them cheat and kill one another. He frankly didn’t care. As of lately, there wasn’t much of anything he cared about—save his oath of honor pledged to his brethren of the Order.

  Damn fine job he’d done upholding that vow.

  He’d let them down by not sealing the mountain crypt as they’d trusted him to do several months ago. Now that failure was compounded. Now there was a witness. With photographs.

  Yeah, absolutely stellar job he’d done so far.

  Now the situation was as fucked up as he was.

  Rio strode hard for the station exit, inhaling the countless scents that filled the air around him and processing them with a ruthless, determined concentration.

  His feet stopped moving at the first trace of juniper and honey.

  He swung his head around, following the tickle in his nose like a hound let loose on felled game. The scent of the one he sought was fresh—too fresh to be anything but immediately present.

  Madre de Dios.

  The woman he hunted was here, in the train station.

  “You sure you’re going to be okay by yourself, honey? I don’t feel right about leaving you behind like this.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Dylan gave Janet and the other two women quick hugs as the group of them stood inside Prague’s central train station. It was busy even at this time of night, the art deco building crowded with travelers, panhandlers, and quite a number of sleeping homeless people.

  “What if something should happen to you?” Janet asked. “Your mom would never forgive us—and I would never forgive myself—if you get hurt or lost or mugged.”

  “Thirty-two years in New York hasn’t killed me. I’m pretty sure I can survive a day here on my own.”

  Marie’s brow furrowed. “And what about your flight home?”

  “Already taken care of. I changed everything online back at the hotel. I’ll be flying out of Prague the day after tomorrow.”

  “We could wait for you, Dylan.” Nancy hefted her backpack up over her shoulder. “Maybe we should forget about Vienna and rebook our flights too, so we can all go home together.”

  “Yes,” Marie agreed. “Maybe we should.”

  Dylan shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to ask any of you to spend the last day of your trip babysitting me when it’s really not necessary. I’m a big girl. Nothing’s going to happen. Go on, I’ll be perfectly fine.”

  “You’re sure, honey?” Janet asked.

  “Positive. Enjoy yourselves in Vienna. I’ll see you back home in the States in a couple of days.”

  It took a further round of fretting and tongue-clucking before the three women finally made their way to the departure platform. Dylan walked along with them, waiting as they boarded. She watched the train roll out of the station, then turned to leave with the rest of the people who’d come to see loved ones off that night.

  As she walked toward the station exits, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being observed. Paranoia, no doubt, brought on by Janet’s worrying on her behalf. But still…

  Dylan glanced around her in a casual pan of the area, trying not to look anxious or lost—emotional beacons for the types of people who liked to prey on stupid tourists. She held her purse in front of her, one arm locked down over it to keep it close to her body. She knew public transportation areas were prime targets for thieves, just like in the States, and she didn’t miss the fact that the group of local teens hanging at a bank of pay phones near the exit were casti
ng measured looks at the crowds as they dispersed. Pickpockets, most likely. She’d heard they often ran in packs around these places.

  Just to be safe, she cut a wide berth and avoided them, taking the farthest door from the group.

  She was feeling pretty street-savvy when she noticed a uniformed security guard walk up to the guys and show them the door. They loped off, and Dylan reached for the push bar on the glass door in front of her.

  In the reflection coming back at her from the glass, she saw a familiar face—one that made her heart seize up in her chest.

  Behind her, almost close enough to touch her, was a very large man barreling at her from the direction of the train platforms. Fierce eyes seemed to burn like coals under the fall of his dark hair.

  And his mouth…

  Good God, she’d never seen a more terrifying sneer in her life. A row of perfect white teeth were clamped tightly behind the lips that were peeled back in a feral snarl, pulling the muscles of his lean face into a stark, deadly mask.

  It was him—the man she’d found in the mountain cave outside Jiáín.

  He’d followed her all this way? Evidently so. She’d thought he might be crazy when she saw him earlier that day, but now she was certain. The way he looked at her now, he had to be an utter psychopath.

  And he was gunning for her like he meant to tear her apart with his bare hands.

  Dylan shrieked; she couldn’t hold back her sharp gasp of fear. She ducked away from the exit, pulling a hard left and running, hopefully out of his path. A quick glance backward only made her pulse slam harder.

  “Oh, Jesus,” she murmured, fright arrowing through her.

  It couldn’t be him. He couldn’t be here looking for her…

  But it was him.

  And from the knot of terror that was lodged in her throat, she wasn’t about to stand around and ask him what he wanted from her.

  She raced over to the station security guard and grabbed the man by the arm. “Help, please! Someone’s after me.” She flung a look over her shoulder, pointing behind her. “He’s back there—light trench coat and long dark hair. Please. You have to help me!”

  The uniformed Czech frowned, but he must have understood her because he followed her panicked gesture, his narrowed eyes scanning the station. “Where?” he asked, his English thickly accented. “Show me this man. Who is bothering you?”

  “I don’t know who he is, but he was right behind me. You can’t miss him—more than six feet tall, shoulders like a linebacker, dark, dingy hair hanging over his face … ”

  Feeling safer now, she turned around, ready to confront the lunatic and hopefully watch him be carted off to the local asylum.

  Except he wasn’t there. Dylan searched the crowds for the big man who would stand out like a rabid, snarling wolf in the center of a herd of milling sheep. There was no sign of him at all. People filed past in ordered calm, nothing out of sorts, no hint of disruption anywhere.

  It was as if he’d simply vanished.

  “He’s got to be here somewhere,” she murmured, even though she couldn’t find him—not among the throngs entering and leaving the terminal, nor among the station’s population of homeless people. “He was right here, I swear. He was coming after me.”

  She felt like a fool as the security guard’s gaze swung back to her and he gave her a polite smile. “Not anymore. You are okay now?”

  “Yeah, sure. Okay, I guess,” Dylan said, feeling anything but okay.

  She cautiously headed for the front entrance of the station. Although it was a beautiful summer night, with clear skies and plenty of people walking through the surrounding park and on the streets leading deeper into the city, Dylan hailed a taxi to take her the few blocks back to her hotel.

  She kept telling herself that she must have been imagining things—that she couldn’t possibly have seen the man from the mountain cave stalking up behind her in the train station. Still, as she climbed out of the taxi and hurried into the posh lobby of her hotel, her nape continued to prickle with anxiety. The feeling persisted as she stood outside her room door, fumbling with her electronic key card.

  As she finally got the door open, a noise behind her made her pause. She glanced around but saw nothing, despite the continued wash of paranoid apprehension that hung over her. She rushed inside like her life depended on it, feeling a startling blast of ice-cold air envelop her in the dark of her room.

  “Air conditioner, doofus,” she told herself as she reached for the light switch and flipped it on. She had to laugh at her own paranoia, even as she quickly turned all the locks behind her.

  She didn’t see him until she took a step farther into the dimly lit room.

  The man from the mountain cave, the lunatic from the train station, was somehow—impossibly—standing not ten feet from her.

  Dylan’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  And then she screamed.

  CHAPTER

  Six

  Rio closed his hand around the female’s open mouth just as the first high note of terror ripped through the room. He’d moved too quickly for her human eyes to track him, employing the same Breed ability he’d used to tail her taxi from the station and follow her up into her hotel room. She’d probably felt him move past her as he had entered ahead of her—registering him only as a sudden draft of chill air—but even now he could tell that her mind was struggling to make sense of what her eyes were seeing.

  She twisted her head, attempting to break free of his unrelenting grasp. Another scream formed in the back of her throat and blasted hotly against his palm, but the effort was useless. The hard clamp of Rio’s fingers snuffed out all but the barest tremor of her cries.

  “Quiet.” He held fast, and pinned her with a look that demanded obedience. “Not one more sound, do you understand? I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Even though he meant it—at least for now—he could see that she was far from convinced. She was trembling hard, her entire body taut and rigid, fear pouring off her in vibrating waves. Over the edge of his palm, her gold-flecked green eyes were huge and wild. Her fine nostrils flared with every short, panicked breath she took.

  “Do as I tell you, and you won’t get hurt,” he said, holding that wide, wary gaze. Very slowly, he began to ease some of the pressure from her mouth. The moist heat of her lips and sawing breath seared his palm as she adjusted to the tiny bit of freedom he’d granted her. “Now, I’m going to take my hand away. I need you to stay quiet. Agreed?”

  She blinked slowly. Gave him a faint, tremulous nod.

  “All right.” Rio began to lift his hand. “All right, that’s good.”

  The female didn’t scream.

  She bit him.

  No sooner had Rio relaxed his hold than he felt the sudden, blunt force of her teeth latching on to the web of flesh between his thumb and forefinger. He spat a vicious curse, more pissed off that he hadn’t seen the attack coming than he was put off by the pain of her bite.

  She drew back just as swiftly as she’d struck and managed to break away from him. She lunged for the locked door but didn’t even make it one step. Rio tackled her from behind, his arms wrapped around her like iron bands.

  “Oh, God—no!” she cried, and went down hard on her knees, too fast for him to cushion her fall.

  She collapsed in a clumsy, face-first sprawl on the floor. Rio heard her breath whoosh out of her on the abrupt impact and knew her lungs had to be screaming. Not that it sapped her of her determination. Damn, she was tenacious.

  She made a last-ditch, frantic scrabble on her belly, trying to drag herself over the carpeted floor to get away from him. But she stood no chance, certainly not against one of his kind.

  Rio crawled up the length of her, trapping her under the weight of his body. She was panting as he flipped her over onto her back and sat himself astride her. She wriggled, still fighting him for all she was worth, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Rio had her imprisoned beneath him, holding her arms tight against
her sides with the strength of his muscled thighs.

  She was completely at his mercy now, and from the look in her eyes as she stared up at him, she didn’t expect he had much to give.

  Rio could guess what he looked like—Jesus, what he smelled like too. This close, he couldn’t hope that his scars were hidden behind his overlong hair. He saw her terrified gaze flick to the left side of his face, where the flames and flying shrapnel had left their mark a year ago. The tight, reddish-silver tangle of ruined skin must look especially hideous underneath all his grime. He must look like some kind of half-crazed monster…

  Yeah, he did, because that’s just what he was.

  And he was also suddenly, acutely aware of the soft, warm woman trapped beneath him. Where he was dressed to offend, in torn clothes that were too far gone months ago to even make decent rags, she was wearing a curve-hugging, cap-sleeved tee-shirt with a pleasantly deep V-neck and light tan cargo pants that rode just below her hips. She smelled clean and fresh, infinitely female.

  And she was beautiful.

  Holy mother, was she ever.

  He’d never seen eyes of her precise color, a rich, verdant green flecked with pale gold. A thick fringe of dark brown lashes framed those intelligent, mesmerizing eyes, which stared up at him now in such wary uncertainty. Her cheekbones were delicate and high, accentuating the graceful line of her jaw. She had the kind of beauty that made her seem both innocent and wise, but it was the shadows in her incredible eyes that intrigued Rio the most.

  This woman had known disappointment and hurt in her life. Maybe even betrayal. She’d been wounded before, and now here he was adding a new brand of terror to her life experience.

  Even worse, she aroused him.

  Not only the knowledge that he had her caught between his thighs, but the sight of her pretty mouth, which was stained with a trace smear of his blood from when she’d bitten him. Everything male in Rio was alert with the feel of her beneath him. Everything Breed in him was tuned in to that scarlet smudge on her tempting lips … and to the thrumming tick of her pulse where it beat so quickly at the base of her creamy throat.