Kiss of Midnight

CHAPTER Thirty-three

A volatile mix of adrenaline, rage, and absolute, marrow-chilling fear vaulted Lucan to the roof of the old asylum. The helicopter had barely touched down on its landing rails as he thundered toward it from the edge of the building. Lucan was vibrating with fury, more explosive and unstable than a tractor trailer packed with C4. He fully intended to rip the limbs off of whomever was holding Gabrielle.

He approached from behind the helicopter, careful not to be seen as he rolled under its tail, then came around to the passenger side of the cockpit, gun drawn.

He glimpsed her inside. She was in the backseat next to a big male dressed in black and wearing dark glasses. She looked so small, so terrified. Her scent swamped him. Her fear tore at his heart.

Lucan yanked open the cockpit door, shoved his weapon into the face of Gabrielle’s captor, and made a grab for her with his free hand. She was jerked back before he could latch onto her.

“Lucan?” Gabrielle gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. “Oh, my God, Lucan!”

He did a quick visual assessment of the situation, noting the Minion pilot and another mind-slave human next to him in the front. The Minion in the front passenger seat spun around to knock away Lucan’s arm, and got a bullet in his head instead.

When Lucan looked back to Gabrielle not even an instant later, the calm one with her had put a savage-looking blade to her throat. Peeking out from the sleeve of his long black trenchcoat were the dermaglyphs Lucan had seen in the surveillance photos from the West Coast.

“Let her go,” he told the Gen One leader of the Rogues.

“My, my, this is a faster response than I could have imagined, even for a blood-bonded warrior. What are you up to? Why are you here?”

The low, arrogant voice took him aback.

Did he know this bastard?

“Let her go,” Lucan said, “and I’ll show you why I’m here.”

“I think not.” The Gen One smiled broadly, baring his teeth.

No fangs. A vampire, but not a Rogue at all.

What the hell?

“She’s lovely, Lucan. I rather expected she was yours.”

Christ, he knew that voice. It came from somewhere buried deep in his memory.

Deep in his past.

A name cut through his mind, as sharp as a blade.

No. It couldn’t be him.

Impossible…

He shook off the momentary confusion, but the slip in focus cost him dearly. Creeping up on him from the side, a Rogue had come up on the roof from within the asylum. With a snarl, it seized the helicopter door and slammed the edge of it into Lucan’s skull.

“Lucan!” Gabrielle screamed. “No!”

He staggered, one knee sinking beneath him. His gun was kicked out of his grasp. It skittered across the rough surface of the roof, several yards out of reach.

The Rogue punched him, a massive fist connecting with his jaw. A second later, a brutal kick smashed into his ribs. Lucan went down, but he swung out with his booted foot and collapsed his attacker’s leg. He leaped on the Rogue, one hand going for the blade sheathed at his torso.

A few feet away, the helicopter’s rotors began a high-pitched whine. They were speeding up. The pilot was preparing to take off again.

He couldn’t let that happen.

If he let Gabrielle off this roof, he had no hope that he would see her alive again.

“Get us out of here,” Gabrielle’s captor ordered his pilot, as the chopper’s blades whirred faster and faster.

Outside, scrabbling on the roof, Lucan fought the Rogue who’d attacked him. Through the dark, Gabrielle spotted another one coming up from a hatch in the roof.

“Oh, no,” she breathed, hardly able to speak for the cutting edge of steel that was biting into the skin at her throat.

The big male leaned past her to see what was happening on the roof. Lucan had returned to his feet. He sliced the first Rogue who had jumped him, lacing open the big vampire’s gut. The Rogue’s scream was audible even over the loud drone of the helicopter’s rotors. Its body started convulsing, spasming… melting.

Lucan’s head pivoted around to the helicopter. Fury blazed out of his eyes, glowing like twin embers lit by hell-fire. He lunged forward, roaring, shoulders bunched. Coming at the vehicle like a freight train.

“Get us out of here now!” shouted the male beside Gabrielle, the first true trace of worry she’d heard in him. “Now, goddamn it!”

The helicopter started lifting.

Gabrielle tried to shrink away from the bite of the blade by pressing her spine into the back of the small rear seat. If she could just find a way to knock his arm away, she might be able to reach the cockpit door—

There was a sudden lurch of the helicopter, as if they had snagged on some part of the building. The engine whined, straining.

Her captor was fuming now. “Take off, you idiot!”

“I’m trying, sire!” said the Minion at the controls. He pulled a lever and the engine protested with a terrible groan.

There was another lurch, a sharp downward tug that rattled everything inside the helicopter. The cockpit rolled forward. Gabrielle’s captor lost his grounding on the seat, a momentary inattention.

The blade left her throat.

With a burst of sheer determination, she threw herself backward and kicked out with both legs, shoving him into the back of the pilot’s seat. The vehicle pitched sharply forward. She scrambled for the latch on the cockpit door.

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 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 enclosure. 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 escaping 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, probably 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 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 earpiece. “Where are you? What the fuck is going on out there?”

“Everything’s all right,” he answered, carrying Gabrielle 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 compound’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. The helicopter had managed to elude the explosion, vanishing 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 warrior 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 mistake, 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 Rogues?”

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