Lara Adrian's Midnight Breed 8-Book Bundle (81 page)

CHAPTER
Fifteen

E
lise dozed most of the nine hours in flight to Berlin. Tegan, however, remained awake. He’d never particularly enjoyed the modern modes of transportation, and while he could appreciate the efficiency of jet travel, propelling himself more than thirty thousand feet above ground at five hundred miles an hour while trapped inside several tons of metal ranked about dead last on his list of favorite things to do.

He was relieved to feel the private jet begin its gradual descent once they reached Berlin’s Tegel Airport. A few minutes later, the sleek aircraft’s wheels touched down on terra firma.

“We’re here,” he told Elise when the soft bump of the landing roused her awake.

She stretched demurely, hiding a yawn behind her hand. “Was I asleep all this time?”

Tegan shrugged. “You needed the rest. Your body is still adjusting to the blood you consumed. It can take a day or two to level out.”

She blushed a shade much deeper than the pink color that had come back into her cheeks from her feeding the night before. Turning her face as if to hide her reaction from him, she lifted the shade on the small oval window beside her and looked out over the predawn cityscape below.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice pleasingly rough from sleep. “I’ve never been to Berlin. Have you?”

“Once. It was a long time ago.”

She shot him a half-smile of acknowledgment from across the minimalist elegance of the fuselage, then glanced away again. They hadn’t spoken of what happened between them, and Tegan had zero interest in cracking open the topic himself. Bad enough he’d been unable to get the sight of her—the incredibly silken feel of her—out of his head in the time he’d been gone from the compound. He’d been hoping like hell she’d back out of the Berlin trip, and he’d even considered a change of plans that would leave her behind.

He didn’t want to think about why he’d been compelled to go looking for her, and then intervene when he found Chase and her together in the corridor. The jolt of protectiveness he’d felt seeing the other male’s hands on her had come up on him fast. He’d like to blame it on the power of the blood bond, but the problem there was that the connection was only half-complete. He hadn’t taken any of Elise’s blood, so he shouldn’t be feeling possessive of her at all.

For several long centuries, he’d been perfecting his general state of apathy like armor that had long since meshed into his own skin, so unless he willed it, he shouldn’t feel a goddamn thing.

But he did.

Just looking at Elise triggered off a storm of unwanted feelings, not the least of which being a lust that tightened every inch of his skin and made his cock stir to aching life. He could hardly reconcile his want of the woman. Seeing her come undone while she suckled at his wrist had only amplified the desire that was already there. Now he craved her with a need that was bound to prove disastrous.

Because if he ever had her naked beneath him, there would be no stopping him from taking her tender Breedmate vein at the same time.

She caught him staring as she suddenly turned away from the window. “A long black Rolls-Royce just pulled up next to us on the tarmac.”

“That’ll be Reichen.”

“Who?”

“Andreas Reichen.” Tegan stood up as the aircraft eased to a stop. “He oversees the largest of the area Darkhavens here. We’ll be staying with him at his estate outside the city.”

The door to the plane’s cockpit opened and the two uniformed pilots came out to give Tegan a nod of greeting as they prepared to disembark. They were both human, both topclass, and available 24/7 by private retainment of the Order. So far as the pilots knew, they worked for a very private, very wealthy corporation that demanded anonymity and absolute loyalty in exchange for a healthy paycheck.

For most humans, that was enough. For the few who proved less than trustworthy, they were rewarded with a thorough mind scrub and a swift kick to the curb.

“Enjoy your stay in Berlin, Mr. Smith,” said the captain as he opened the door of the jet onto the waiting flight of stairs that had been placed beside the aircraft. He gave Elise a courteous smile as she stepped past him to exit the plane. “Miss Smith,” he said politely. “A pleasure to serve you. Have a pleasant day.”

On the tarmac below, a suited driver got out of the black Rolls limousine and opened the door for his passenger in the back of the vehicle. Andreas Reichen climbed out as Tegan and Elise came off the last stair and walked toward the car.

He looked more the wealthy executive than the libertine Tegan knew him to be, his gray shirt and black trousers sporting barely a wrinkle beneath the fall of his tailored overcoat. Only his dark hair gave his hedonist side away: he wore it long and loose, the thick chestnut waves lifting in the wintry breeze that came in off the pavement.

“Welcome, friends,” he said, his accented baritone voice just as rich and cultured as Tegan remembered it. The vampire hadn’t changed much at all in the many decades since Tegan had last seen him—not only in his movie star looks, which were an unapologetic source of pride for him, but also in his blatant appreciation for feminine beauty.

“Andreas Reichen,” he purred, offering Elise his hand.

“I am Elise Chase,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”

When she reached out to accept his greeting, Reichen smoothly captured her fingers and brought them to his lips for a chaste kiss, bowing his dark head over her hand. “Enchanted. And I am honored to welcome you to my domain.”

Elise gave him a shy smile. “Thank you, Herr Reichen.”

The German frowned as if wounded by her formality. “You must call me Andreas, please.”

“Very well. If you will call me Elise.”

“With honor, Elise.” It took him a moment before he finally broke away to acknowledge Tegan. “Very good to see you again, my friend, and so much the better that it is under more pleasant circumstances than before.”

“That remains to be seen,” Tegan said, not particularly caring that his grim attitude might put a damper on the pleasantries. “Is everything still a go for the containment facility visit?”

“Yes, all is in order.” Reichen indicated the idling vehicle. “Shall we be on our way? Klaus will see to your bags.”

“This is it,” Tegan said, holding up a black leather duffel that contained his combat gear and a few extra weapons. “We won’t be here more than a couple of days. It can’t take that long to get what we need out of the Odolf Rogue.”

Reichen’s chiseled cheeks showed twin dimples with his answering smile. “I’m not surprised that you are all business, Tegan, but what about the lady?”

Elise shook her head. “This trip came up so abruptly, I didn’t have much chance to prepare—”

“No matter,” Reichen said. “I will take care of it. I have accounts at several designer houses on the Ku’damm. I’ll call from the car and have them bring some selections to the estate today for both of you.”

He flipped out his cell phone and began talking even before they were all seated in the limousine. Tegan understood a bit of German from the Old Times, when all of the Breed existed primarily in Europe—enough to know that Reichen was ordering up pricey gowns and shoes in a range of what he guessed to be Elise’s petite sizes.

When he dialed another store and requested a men’s tailor to come out for a custom fitting within the hour, Tegan shot him a threatening look. “What the hell’s going on, Reichen?”

“A reception, of course. I’ll be hosting it at the estate this evening. It’s not often the Berlin Darkhavens get to receive such esteemed company. There are people within the Enforcement Agency in particular who insisted they be allowed to greet you properly.”

“I’ll bet.” Tegan scoffed. “I have no interest in being paraded around like a tuxedoed monkey in front of a bunch of Darkhaven bureaucrats. So, no offense to you, Reichen, but the rest of your stuffed-shirt pals can kiss my—”

The German pointedly cleared his throat as if to remind Tegan that a lady was present and to mind his tongue. Frigging Darkhaven sophisticate and his flawless manners. A rusty old part of Tegan acknowledged that Elise probably didn’t need to hear him go off on the society that had raised her. It wasn’t that long ago that she was very much a part of that world—still would be, if not for the deaths of her mate and her only son.

Reichen smiled, arching a dark brow as Tegan bit back the rest of his ripe thoughts.

But there was some spark of satisfaction gleaming in Reichen’s dark eyes that had little to do with his silver spoon upbringing. It was humor, wry amusement.

“Actually, Tegan, the reception has been arranged in honor of your lovely companion. Perhaps you were not aware that Quentin Chase was one of the most respected figures in the Enforcement Agency, in the States and abroad.” Reichen gallantly inclined his head in Elise’s direction. “It is a great honor for us to receive the late Director Chase’s widow for however long she chooses to stay with us.”

Tegan scowled in the dimly lit vehicle, stealing a glance at Elise. She seemed less surprised than resigned at the announcement, like she was used to the sort of attention Reichen described. Like she lived that kind of rarefied society fuss all the time.

Shit.

She hadn’t been kidding when she said she could bring the entire Enforcement Agency down on the Order with a single phone call. He knew her mate had been well connected, but he’d had no idea how high up the Darkhaven food chain Elise was herself.

“Your hospitality overwhelms me, Herr Reichen…Andreas,” she corrected demurely. “Thank you for welcoming us so graciously.”

Tegan stared hard at her now, seeing how easily she fell into the role of diplomat with Reichen. She hadn’t been so gratingly proper with him last night at the compound. No, with him she’d been wanton and demanding, perfectly willing to use him to get what she needed.

And why the hell not?

He knew how the Darkhavens viewed the Order. With the exception of a few current generation males who’d been impressed by the warriors’ destruction of the Boston-area Rogue lair the summer before, most of vampire society regarded the Order on a par with feral pit bulls. Those within the Enforcement Agency, the group whose policies of capture and rehabilitation operated in direct opposition to the Order’s bag-and-tag methods of dealing with deadly Rogues, were the most vocal in their contempt.

Little wonder that Elise, as the Breedmate of one of their highest ranking officials, would think of Tegan as nothing more than a means to an end.

That he’d let her drink from him burned Tegan like a lick of midday sunlight on his skin. The fact that he craved the woman—even a little bit—made him want to leap out of the moving car and run until he hit the dawn.

Yeah, it was a damn good thing he was seeing her clearly now. Before he allowed himself to do anything even more stupid with the female.

CHAPTER
Sixteen

E
lise skimmed her hands over the yards of glistening indigo silk that covered her. The sleeveless designer gown was breathtaking, one of more than a dozen couture pieces that Andreas Reichen had arranged to be brought in earlier that day from the city for her selection. She chose the simplest dress in the least dramatic color, wishing she didn’t have to attend the evening’s reception at all.

She’d been treated like a queen all day, and even after a restful bit of sleep, she wasn’t much in the frame of mind for the hours of socializing that awaited her in the lakeside estate’s grand ballroom downstairs. But years of practice on Quentin’s arm had taught her what was expected of a member of the Chase family:
duty first.
That had been his personal credo, and one Elise had learned to embrace as well. So, after a quick shower in her guest suite, she had put on the form-fitting dark purple gown and a pair of gem-encrusted sandals, then arranged her short hair into some semblance of a style and headed out of her room ready to act her part.

Or at least, she thought she had been ready.

As soon as she descended the curving stairwell from the expansive wing of living quarters above, the din of voices and elegant music made her pause.

This would be the first public reception she’d attended since Quentin’s death. Until she’d left the Darkhaven four months ago, she had kept herself in mourning, wearing the long white tunic and scarlet sash that declared a Breedmate a widow. As such, she’d been able to sequester herself in her home, seeing only those people she wished to, and neatly avoiding the sympathetic stares and whispers that would only remind her of Quentin’s absence all the more.

There would be no more avoiding it, she realized, seeing Andreas Reichen striding toward her across the marble foyer from the direction of the crowded ballroom. He was stunning in a black tuxedo and crisp white shirt. His dark hair was pulled back off his face into a loose queue at his nape, showcasing those razor-sharp cheekbones and his strong square jaw. The handsome German’s warm smile put her somewhat at ease immediately as he approached.

“A perfect choice. You look exquisite,” he said, his dark eyes taking her in from head to toe as he took her hand and lifted her fingers to his mouth. His brief kiss of greeting was whisper soft and warm as velvet. He released her with a slight bow of his head, and when his gaze reached her face, he frowned. “Something is wrong? Is anything not to your liking?”

“Everything is fine,” she assured him. “It’s just…I haven’t done this in a very long time. Been out in public, that is. For the past five years, I’ve been in mourning—”

Reichen’s frown deepened in understanding. “In mourning, all this time?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, God. You must pardon me, but I didn’t know. I am sorry. You need only say the word and I will send everyone away. They don’t need to know why.”

“No.” Elise shook her head. “No, I would never ask you to do that, Andreas. You’ve gone to so much trouble, and it’s just a pleasant gathering, after all. I can get through this. I
will
get through it.”

She couldn’t help looking around Reichen’s broad shoulders, searching for the one face she knew. Even though Tegan could hardly be considered friendly, he was familiar, and gruff or not, his strength would be a comfort to her. By the low current in her veins, she could feel him somewhere in the mansion, nearby, yet out of her line of sight.

“Have you seen Tegan?” she asked, trying to sound only passingly interested in the answer.

“Not since we arrived this morning.” Reichen chuckled as he led her away from the sweeping staircase, toward the ballroom. “We won’t see him anywhere near the reception, I’m sure. He never was one for social gatherings.”

No, she didn’t suppose he was. “Do you know him well?”

“Oh, not particularly. But then I doubt few can claim to know that warrior well. Personally, I know all I need to know to consider him a friend.”

Elise was curious. “How so?”

“Tegan came to my aid some time ago, when the area was having a sudden, but persistent problem with a group of Rogues. This was ages ago, in the early 1800s…1809, the height of summer.”

Two hundred years would seem a very long time to human ears, but Elise herself had been living among the Breed for more than a century, after being rescued from Boston’s slums by the Chase family when she was a young child. The Breed’s Darkhaven communities had been in existence in various parts of Europe and the United States for much longer than that. “Things must have been very different for you then.”

Reichen grunted as if remembering those times. “Things were different, yes. The Darkhavens weren’t nearly as secure as they are now. No electronic fences, no motion sensors, no cameras to warn of breaches. Normally, our problems with Rogues were isolated incidents—one or two weak-willed vampires succumbing to Bloodlust and wreaking a bit of havoc on the human population before they were captured and contained. But this was different. These Rogues had begun attacking humans and Breed alike. They had banded together in their hunting, doing it for sport, it seemed. They managed to infiltrate one of our Darkhavens. Before the first night had ended, they’d violated and killed a number of women and slaughtered several Breed males as well.”

Elise winced, imagining the terror that must have cut through the hearts of the area’s residents at such an episode of violence. “How did Tegan help you?”

“He’d evidently been roaming the countryside when he entered the Grunewald and came across an injured Darkhaven male from my community. When Tegan heard what was going on, he showed up on my doorstep with an offer to assist us. We would have paid him anything, of course, but he would accept no fee in exchange. I don’t know how he did it, but he hunted down every one of those Rogues and killed them all.”

“How many were there?”

Reichen’s expression was nothing short of awe. “Sixteen of the diseased savages.”

“My God,” Elise gasped, beyond astonished. “So many…”

“The Berlin Darkhaven you see today might have been wiped out of existence if not for Tegan all those years ago. He tracked and killed all sixteen Rogues single-handedly, then simply went on his way. I didn’t hear from him again until many years later, after he’d settled in Boston with the few remaining members of the Order.”

Elise had no words for what she’d just been told. Part of her was stunned by Reichen’s account of Tegan’s heroics, but another part of her was suddenly awash in a deep chill of dread that made her shudder. She knew Tegan was a skilled warrior—an extremely lethal individual—but she truly had no idea what violence he was capable of doing.

And to think she had forced herself on him the other night. Goaded him into the profanity of a blood bond she’d initiated with him. How she must have insulted him, and yet by some miracle, he hadn’t lashed out at her even though he had every right to despise her for using him.

Good Lord.

If all the hideous things she’d been raised to believe about the Order’s members were even remotely true, she probably wouldn’t be standing here. As it was, her legs felt a bit weak beneath her. The buzzing in her temples was increasing, distracting her like a swarm of gnats circling her ears.

“Andreas, I think I…I could really use a drink now.”

“Of course.” Reichen offered her his arm and she gladly took it. “Come, I’ll present you to the gathering and make sure you have whatever you like.”

Tegan waited until they were gone before he descended from the upper floor landing of the mansion. He took the stairs, even though he could have just as easily vaulted over the side of the carved mahogany railing to the marble foyer three floors below.

After a day of being cooped up in the mansion awaiting nightfall, he’d been on his way out to hunt for blood and Rogues when the sound of Elise’s voice stopped him in his tracks upstairs. He peered over just in time to see Reichen sweep in on her, full of his usual dark charm as he kissed Elise’s hand for the second time since meeting her. He’d called her exquisite and by God, she was.

The indigo dress she wore hugged her petite figure in all the right places, an architectural wonder of crisscrossing silk layers and flowing, filmy skirts. Her bare shoulders and short blond hair accentuated the graceful line of her throat, which drew Tegan’s eye like a beacon. Her pulse ticked frantically below her ear, a beat that echoed in his own veins, even now that she was gone from view.

Damn, he needed to feed.

The sooner the better.

Garbed in combat gear, Tegan headed straight for the mansion’s front vestibule, eager to get the fuck out of the place. He strode past the wide-open double doors of the grand ballroom, ignoring the soaring whine of the string quartet and the chaotic buzz of the many conversations underway inside the reception.

He tried to ignore the sight of Elise on Reichen’s arm as the suave German brought her before the crowd of their peers. She looked so elegant and refined amid the glitter of the gathering, fitting in perfectly with the Darkhavens’ elite.

This was her world; there could be no mistaking that fact now that he saw her enveloped within it. She belonged here, and his place was out on the streets, staining his hands with the blood of his enemies.

Yeah,
he thought, feeling a surge of anger run through him.
He belonged anywhere but here.

As she strolled farther into the ballroom on Reichen’s arm, Elise scanned the crowd of fifty or more, recognizing several faces from events she’d attended with Quentin in the past. Everyone was staring at her—had been since the instant she entered the room. Conversations paused, heads turned. The string quartet played on near the other side of the room, falling into a soft whisper of music as Andreas Reichen presented her to the gathering.

He introduced her to one person after another, a dizzying line of names and faces that eventually began to blur together in her mind. She accepted the offers of condolence for Quentin’s passing and listened with not a little pride as many of the area’s Enforcement Agency representatives recounted their dealings with her respected mate. More than one person asked about the nature of her business in Berlin, but she dodged the questions as artfully as she could. It didn’t seem prudent to discuss the Order’s business in such a public arena, and it would be next to impossible to mention her association with the warriors without explaining how she’d come to know them in the first place.

How shocked and appalled would these politic Darkhaven males be to learn that she had been out on Boston’s streets hunting Minions just a few days before?

Some rebellious part of her almost wished she could blurt that truth out, if only to watch the stuffy civilians balk. Instead, Elise merely sipped the wine Reichen had fetched for her soon after they arrived, her attention only partially focused on the Enforcement Agent who had been bending her ear for about fifteen minutes straight.

Looking slightly down his aquiline nose at her, the imposing blond vampire was quick to impress upon her how he had served the Agency most of his life—racking up more than a hundred years of self-aggrandizing war stories that he seemed compelled to describe to her in great detail. She nodded along and smiled at the appropriate moments, wondering how long it would take her to hit the bottom of her wineglass.

About three seconds, she decided, casually draining the last of the fine French wine.

“Your years of service are commendable, Agent Waldemar,” she said, already extricating herself from the conversation. “Will you excuse me, please? I’m afraid this wine has gone straight to my head.”

The arrogant agent sputtered something about the fact that she hadn’t yet heard about the time he required a full twenty stitches after a run-in with a Rogue outside Tiergarten, but Elise just gave him a polite smile as she slipped into the thickest knot of the crowd.

In the middle of the perfumed, silk-clad bodies, a female hand reached out to clasp her own. “Elise? Oh, my goodness, it’s so nice to see you!”

She was swept into a tight, warm hug. When she drew back, a flood of delight filled her to see the face of an old, dear friend. “Anna, hello. You look well.”

“I am. And you—how many years has it been since we’ve seen each other? The boys were so young then. Were they even six years old the last time we were all together?”

“They were seven,” Elise said, hit with an instant blast of memory. Camden and Anna’s son Tomás had been fast friends, spending an entire summer together before the Agency reassigned Anna’s mate overseas.

“I can’t believe how time flies,” the other Breedmate exclaimed, then took Elise’s hand in both of hers. “We heard what happened to Quentin, of course. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Elise attempted a smile. “Thank you. It was…a difficult time. But I’m adjusting to life without him as best I can.”

Anna clucked her tongue. “And poor Camden. I can only imagine how hard it’s been for him too, losing his father when he could have barely been into his teens. How is he holding up? Did he come with you to Berlin? I know Tomás would be thrilled to see him.”