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Hour of Darkness: A Hunter Legacy Novel (Midnight Breed Hunter Legacy Book 2)
Hour of Darkness: A Hunter Legacy Novel (Midnight Breed Hunter Legacy Book 2) Read online
Table of Contents
Title Page
HOUR OF DARKNESS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
About the Author
COPYRIGHT
HOUR OF DARKNESS
A Hunter Legacy Novel
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR
LARA ADRIAN
© 2018 Lara Adrian, LLC
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (v1)
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BORN OF DARKNESS
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CLAIMED IN SHADOWS
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HOUR OF DARKNESS
A Hunter Legacy Novel
New York Times bestselling author Lara Adrian returns with a pulse-pounding new novel in the thrilling Hunter Legacy series of vampire romances set in the darkly seductive Midnight Breed paranormal story world.
Born and raised as an assassin in the notorious Hunter program, Breed vampire Cain has since put his specialized skills to use as a mercenary willing to clean up any problem for a price. Or so he thought. After a job in Las Vegas strains even his dubious code of honor, Cain pulls up stakes and lands in Miami for a much-needed break. All he wants is time away to clear his head and regroup, but then a beautiful young woman is nearly killed in front of his eyes and the ruthless former Hunter becomes the only thing standing between her and a sniper’s bullet.
Marina Moretskova is no stranger to dangerous men. As the niece of a Russian organized crime boss, she’s grown up around killers and criminals. But her uncle wants out now, and he’s enlisted Marina’s help in buying his freedom by delivering valuable intel to a secret contact in exchange for protection. Not even Marina’s bodyguards are aware of her mission, so when an attempt on her life is averted by a handsome, steely-eyed vampire, as grateful as she is for Cain’s intervention, the last thing she needs is the shrewd Breed male nosing around for answers. Cain’s cold, haunted gaze and merciless abilities attest to his brutal nature, yet the rough, solitary Hunter stirs a powerful longing in Marina—a darkly seductive hunger she can neither afford nor resist. With a target on her back and covert enemies closing in from all sides, trust is a risk that can prove deadly . . . and the safest shelter she may find is in the arms of the most lethal man she’ll ever know.
Don’t miss the previous Hunter Legacy novel, Born of Darkness, available now!
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CHAPTER 1
Cain sank his fangs deeper into the brunette’s neck, closing his eyes on a low snarl as bitter, coppery red cells filled his mouth. Seated beside him on the sofa of his palatial Miami hotel penthouse suite, the female he’d met only minutes ago clung to him and whimpered as he drank from her opened vein.
He was rough about it, eager to take his fill and be done. Cain made no secret of what he was. In the twenty years since humans had learned of the existence of the Breed, it wasn’t unusual for his kind to mingle among their mortal neighbors. Some, like the blood Host he’d hired to service him tonight, seemed to find the open coexistence of the past two decades not only an acceptable arrangement but a profitable one too.
Cain gave the small punctures a brisk, businesslike swipe of his tongue to seal the wounds and conclude the transaction. Unfortunately, his Host didn’t seem to grasp the limitations of his interest in her. As he drew away, her moan held a whining edge of complaint.
“Mmm, don’t stop now, lover. Let’s move to the bedroom and keep this party going.” She reached for him, licking her cherry-red lips in invitation. “Look, I know you’re only paying me for blood, but if you want something more—”
“Your cash is on the table in the vestibule.”
Cain was already on his feet, wearing nothing but a pair of dark jeans. He reached for the black dress shirt he’d removed before sitting down to feed a few minutes ago. He slipped it on, not bothering to button it as he turned to meet the disgruntled face staring up at him.
Although the female was pretty and he wasn’t the type to deny himself pleasure or sustenance, he rarely mixed the two. Repeat performances weren’t his thing. He kept to a strict one-and-done policy, even when it came to the human women who offered him their veins. Life was simpler that way, cleaner.
No strings.
No complications.
No exceptions.
He lifted a black brow, impatient to be done now. “There’s a bathroom down the hall if you need to clean up before showing yourself out.”
The female frowned, muttering something under her breath as she stood and grabbed her purse off a nearby chair. Her spiked heels clacked sharply over the beachfront suite’s polished tile floors in her swift march into the foyer. The hotel door closed behind her with a bang.
Cain blew out a breath, glad for the return to his solitude.
He had been in Miami for more than a week now, having eventually drifted to the very edge of the East Coast after leaving Las Vegas and a job that had been slowly devouring his soul. He’d assumed all he needed to clear his head—and his conscience—was enough time and miles put behind him. Now, a couple of months on the road, with nothing to keep him busy outside of feeding and fucking whenever the urge arose, about the only thing he was feeling was bored.
And restless.
Turns out, he wasn’t built for idling. None of his kind were, but especially the Breed boys and men born into the infamous Hunter program. Twenty years of freedom from that hellish enslavement was hardly enough to erase the brutal discipline and training that had made Cain and the rest of his assassin half-brothers bred inside that laboratory anything close to civilized.
As much as C
ain enjoyed life’s endless luxuries—all the things his mercenary existence provided him—inside he was still shackled to the program. There had been a time, once, when he’d longed for a different life. A simpler, normal life. But those dreams belonged to better men than him.
Deep down, he was still the cold, detached killer his master had made him. Still the solitary predator existing on the shadowed fringe of the real world.
And lately, every one of his Hunter instincts was beginning to tell him it was time to move on.
He hadn’t survived this long by ignoring them.
Strolling barefoot across the expansive living area of his suite, he pulled a bottle of whiskey from the fully stocked bar and poured a glass. As Breed, he couldn’t drink the liquor but he swished it around in his mouth to erase the metallic tang left over from the human’s blood then spit it into the wet bar’s polished steel sink.
On the other side of the ultraviolet-blocking shades that covered the floor-to-ceiling glass doors overlooking the beach and ocean beyond, the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. Blue hour. The fleeting moments between day and night when he could stand outside with no threat of searing his Breed skin and eyes.
Cain walked to the sliding doors and opened them wide. He stepped out to the terrace ten stories above the hotel pool and courtyard below. Warm salty air stuck to him, carrying the drifting aromas of blooming flowers and grilled foods. Just off the blanket of white sand still littered with beachgoers, an old reggae song being sung live in one of the tiki bars competed with the pulse and racket of a dance club down the street.
Christ. He’d left the nonstop glitter and noise of Las Vegas for some peace and solitude, but had only traded one circus for another.
He shook his head. Hell, maybe he’d roll out tonight yet. He’d already gone about as far south as he intended. Nothing but swamplands and a lot of bad memories in that direction, anyway. Instead, he thought he might venture north for a while, eventually end up in the Dakotas or Montana. As one of the Breed, he needed living human blood every few days for sustenance, but the idea of getting far away from people—even his own kind—was beginning to sound like a damn good plan.
He turned to go back inside, but paused when he glanced down at the hotel pool. A woman swam alone in the glowing turquoise water, slender arms and legs propelling her with effortless grace and speed across the Olympic-sized length. She wore a skimpy black bikini, with her thick blond hair bound in a long ponytail and floating like gossamer waves over her back as she swam.
Her gorgeous body alone would have been enough to make Cain pause to admire, but it was the delicate body art that decorated her limbs and torso that drew him to the railing for another look. That and the fact that it was next to impossible for anyone to have the entire pool to themselves no matter what hour of the day.
And now that he was looking closer, he realized she wasn’t exactly alone after all.
Four big men in dark suits were positioned around the vacated pool and courtyard garden. Their grim faces alternated between watching her swim and scanning their surroundings. Cain didn’t have to see the faint outline of firearms holstered beneath their jackets to know they were professionals.
So, who was this woman?
Whoever she was, the female was a knockout. Curves and lean muscle in all the right places. Smooth, alabaster skin that only made the contrast of the ink even sexier. Twisting vines and blood-red roses wrapped her upper arms and long legs, the unbroken chain continuing all the way around her ankles. Each movement of her body made the roses appear alive, begging to be touched.
Cain angled for a better view of her face as it dipped in and out of the water with her sleek strokes, but all he could discern was the hint of high-cut cheekbones and a lush mouth.
It was plenty for his libido to take an interest. Arousal coiled inside him as he fixated on her gliding trek back and forth across the pool. He watched her face lift out of the water in rhythmic motion, her parted lips taking in air between each fluid stroke of her arms.
The illuminated water licked every inch of her body the way he suddenly wanted to do. Each fluttering kick of her strong legs made him hunger to have them wrapped around his hips as he drove inside her. He’d just fed, and yet hunger coiled in him. The urge to feel her throat giving way beneath his sharp fangs was nearly overwhelming.
He closed his eyes on a growl, entertaining a swift and powerful image of the two of them tangled together in his bed. His cock went heavy and hard at the thought, his fangs erupting from his gums.
Fuck.
When he lifted his lids a second later, his eyes burned with unearthly heat. He watched her pivot at the end of the pool and begin another lap. Her loose blond hair undulated around her shoulders and down her spine, and Cain’s fingers clenched with the desire to feel those silken strands clutched in his fist as she writhed naked beneath him, begging for everything he gave her and more.
He let the fantasy play out as he watched her swim, trying to ignore the bulge growing more unbearable behind the zipper of his jeans.
He was so transfixed, he hardly registered the quiet pop that sounded from somewhere nearby. But in that next instant, a bloom of red erupted from the back of the woman’s head.
Blood. It streaked into the pale blond tendrils of her hair, a growing stain that grew and grew, swirling around her like scarlet tentacles.
Her strokes stalled. Her body went instantly limp, collapsing lifelessly under the water.
Holy shit.
She’d just been shot in front of his eyes. Executed. The massive wound in her skull erased any doubt about that.
Ten stories below him, her corpse began to sink to the bottom of the pool as her security detail scrambled in to retrieve her.
“Son of a bitch.” Cain closed his lids in disbelief.
When he opened them again, the blood was gone.
The blonde was still swimming her lap, alive and well. Totally unharmed.
At least she was for now.
Because the killing he’d just witnessed hadn’t happened yet. What he’d seen was a sixty-second glimpse of the future. Her future, coming to a violent, watery end.
It wasn’t the first time he had experienced a sudden flash of precognition foretelling someone’s death, but it had been years since the last one. His unique Breed ability had been with him since he was a boy. He hadn’t learned to hate it until he was a man and his cursed gift had failed him when he’d needed it the most.
Failed not only him, but someone else too.
Cain bit off a dark curse, refusing to let the memory—or the shame—take hold of him. He had buried that part of his life and moved on. He’d been damn glad his unwelcome gift had seemed to abandon him altogether in recent years.
The visions had been gone so long, he assumed they’d never return. And good riddance, so he had thought. Yet as much as he wanted to ignore what he’d just witnessed in his mind’s eye, he couldn’t.
If he didn’t do something, his vision would become reality and she would be dead.
The last thing he wanted was to get involved. He shouldn’t care what happened to a random woman he had no business craving, let alone thwarting destiny to protect.
But none of that stopped him from palming the railing of his tenth-floor balcony and leaping over the edge.
He sailed down in a flash of motion, faster than any human eye—or sniper’s sight—could track him. Feet first, he plunged into the water and grabbed the woman into his arms.
She screamed. One of her bodyguards jumped in from the side of the pool, but Cain was already well out of reach, moving her out of the bullet’s path just as the assassin’s round tore into the water where she’d been only seconds before.
Cain swiveled his head and glanced up toward the roof of the hotel, scanning for signs of the sniper. The would-be killer was already gone from his post, not a trace of a weapon or a hunkered shooter anywhere above. Meanwhile, the woman struggled to get loose.
 
; Her body was lean and strong in his arms, and warm. She twisted around in his grasp, crushing her curves against the front of his body in her efforts to break free. Everywhere her bare skin touched him, he burned with awareness of her.
She fought the firm bands of his arms, finally shoving him away on a shocked curse. Long-lashed eyes in an arresting shade of warm burgundy stared at him in confusion and fury. “What the hell are you do—?”
Her voice, tinged with a Slavic accent, cut off as she looked at him. She glanced from the sharp points of his elongated canines to the Breed skin markings that covered his wet torso. The tangle of multi-hued dermaglyphs prickled everywhere her gaze touched him.
He couldn’t hide what he was, even if he tried. His fangs were bared in battle-readiness, and in response to the feel of her curves having been pressed against him.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
She didn’t answer, merely looked around his shoulder to where her guard now sagged lifeless in the pool, his blood staining the water instead of hers. Cool and collected in spite of what just happened, she returned to Cain’s gaze.
“You saved my life.” She swallowed, her intelligent wine-dark eyes searching his face. “But how did you—where did you come from?”
He shrugged, unsure how he would explain what just happened. Not that he was going to have the chance. Two of her men were at the edge of the pool, lifting her out of the water while the remaining one held his pistol on Cain.
“Yury, nyet.” Her voice was crisp with command. She held up her hand, giving the gunman a tight shake of her head. She said something more in their language, orders that had all of the guards snapping to attention.