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Break the Day: A Midnight Breed Novel (The Midnight Breed Series) Read online

Page 15


  Carys’s eyes went wide. “Are you serious? That means we’re related.”

  Tavia seemed less surprised, which indicated that Lucan had shared the information Rafe provided in his last report. Chase had obviously made his mate aware of the half-sister she had lost in the JUSTIS bombing, and the niece who had unexpectedly ended up in the middle of Rafe’s mission.

  Through his bond with Devony, Rafe felt her jolt of elation as she looked at the older woman who shared her extraordinary bloodline. A small breath leaked out of her as she let go of his hand to accept Tavia’s in greeting. “I’m so pleased to meet you both.”

  “Likewise, Devony.”

  Chase nodded to his mate. “Tavia, would you and Carys like to chat with Devony while I talk privately with Rafe?”

  “Of course. It would be our pleasure.”

  “I’ll be right here,” Rafe told Devony when she glanced at him in question. Although the way Chase’s displeased gaze bore into him, he wasn’t sure he would have any of his ass left once the commander was through chewing it out.

  He motioned toward his office. They moved inside and Rafe stood at attention on the other side of the desk while Chase dropped into his leather chair behind it.

  “Go ahead and sit, son. We could be here a while.” As Rafe took the offered seat, Chase stared at him over steepled fingers. “I’m going to assume you’ve got a damn good reason for showing up here unannounced tonight, with a civilian female under your arm, no less. Let me go all the way out on a limb and suggest it might have something to do with the fact that you’re apparently fucking an Order asset. When Lucan gave you permission to keep the female in play if you needed to, I doubt this is what he had in mind.”

  Shit. The accusation rankled, but it was the commander’s crude assessment of Devony that really put an edge in Rafe’s tone. “She is not just some asset, sir.”

  Chase grunted. “I guess that answers the first part of my question.”

  Rafe forged on, knowing there was no sense in trying to hide that he and Devony were involved. “She’s in danger. I wouldn’t have brought her here for anything less.”

  “Am I supposed to be relieved to hear that?” Chase swore under his breath. “From what I understand, Lucan specifically told you to hold your cover with her. He’s not going to want to hear you defied an order by getting tangled up with her.”

  “My cover is still intact,” Rafe muttered, feeling sick about that now. It had eaten at him nearly from the beginning, but especially now. “She doesn’t know I’m still a part of the Order. Coming here tonight and running up against Eli and Jax only confirmed my cover.”

  “You care about this female.”

  Rafe couldn’t deny it. Chase’s look of sober understanding said he didn’t need the confirmation, anyway.

  “Tell me what happened tonight.”

  Rafe gave him a rundown of the chain of disasters, from the stolen—and now missing—crates of liquid UV to the wholesale assassination of Cruz and his gang along with Judah LaSalle, the Order’s current best lead in their hunt for members of Opus Nostrum’s inner circle.

  Chase listened to all of the bad news in grim silence, as if he had already lived through a thousand similar catastrophes in his tenure as a warrior, and, like Lucan, had the broad shoulders to carry them all.

  As bad as his problems had gotten tonight, Rafe could handle them too.

  Except for the one that had placed Devony in the line of fire.

  “They burned down her brownstone tonight.” Just saying the words put a chill in his veins. Just thinking about the danger she was in made his blood seethe with murderous intent. “I tranced LaSalle before he died. He told me that the death squad said they were coming after both Devony and me. While I was squeezing him for the information, we saw the news bulletin on his TV. Reporters and fire trucks were all over her block in Back Bay. I brought Devony straight here.”

  “Jesus, that inferno raging across town is her Darkhaven?”

  “Was,” Rafe corrected. “She’s got nowhere else to go, Chase.”

  “That’s not quite true. She can go back home to London. Mathias Rowan has been here in Boston on other business. I’m sure he’ll be willing to get her home safely when he heads back tomorrow. His unit in London can provide her round-the-clock protection while we deal with this situation with Opus.”

  “What? No. No fucking way.” Rafe wanted to think his vehement rejection of that idea had more to do with concerns for her wellbeing than his want to keep her close to him. That’s not what his heart was saying, though.

  “She doesn’t have a home in London anymore. Not since her family was killed. She won’t want to return there. Even if she did, you and I both know she’ll be safer here, with us.”

  With him.

  Just because he didn’t say the words out loud didn’t mean they weren’t thrumming through every fiber of his being.

  He wanted her. Not just to ensure she was safe and secure. Not merely as a valuable partner in his goal to see Opus destroyed.

  He just wanted . . . her.

  Chase considered him for a moment before exhaling a long sigh. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. “Listen, Rafe, Lucan told me about her situation. It’s rough, what she went through. Losing her parents and her brother in one fell swoop. Anyone would want a little payback for that. But this is our fight with Opus, not hers.”

  “No.” Rafe shook his head. “Tonight, by threatening her, they made it my fight.”

  It was true. As much as he craved retribution after being played for a fool by Opus in Montreal, this resolve to obliterate the cabal was something different. It went deeper, ran infinitely colder.

  His own humiliation was nothing compared to the very real threat to Devony’s life.

  “She stays with me.”

  Chase’s brows rose in challenge. “As commander of this operation center, I might have something to say about that. And I can assure you, Lucan will—”

  “I drank from her.”

  “Ah, fuck. Tell me you’re joking.”

  Rafe held the bleak stare of his commander. “Earlier tonight, after Cruz smashed a crate of liquid UV in front of me. The burns were . . . bad. Devony wasn’t supposed to take part in the robbery, but she came looking for me anyway. If she hadn’t found me when she did—if she hadn’t given me her blood . . .” Rafe slowly shook his head. “I owe her my life.”

  “I see.” Chase studied him, then shook his head. “I’ll put a call in to D.C. I know Lucan will want to hear all of this directly from you. He’s going to want to decide where this goes from here. In the meantime, I need to get boots on the ground to go try to contain what’s left of that UV supply at the warehouse. Aric and his new team arrived earlier tonight,” Chase added. “Looks like they just got their first assignment.”

  Damn. His best friend’s daywalker team was already put together. They were here in Boston, and Rafe wouldn’t even have known if he hadn’t shown up tonight.

  Although he hadn’t actually been ousted from the Order weeks ago, it still took him aback to realize how life had moved on as if he were gone for good. Until now, he hadn’t realized how much he truly missed being back in the fold, an active part of operations.

  Chase got up from his chair. “I can’t say I like what I’ve heard tonight, Rafe, or where things stand with you and Devony Winters. But I’m not going to act like you’re the first warrior to fuck things up six ways from Sunday on account of a woman.”

  The sardonic remark gave him more hope than it probably should, but right now he’d take it.

  Rafe rose to his feet as well. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Go on, get out of here.” The Order elder gave him a frown and a dismissive wave. “Go make sure your female is all right. Be ready to meet me in the compound war room in one hour.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Devony couldn’t stop staring.

  Tavia Chase was stunningly beautiful. Tall and
elegant in her basic black outfit of tailored pants and a fine-gauge knit sweater, she exuded a calm confidence that immediately put Devony at ease. Her face was a study in classic beauty, high cheekbones, smooth skin, and a generous mouth—all of it framed by a luxurious mane of caramel-brown hair.

  Carys shared many of her mother’s features and her remarkable beauty, but where Tavia conveyed a steady strength, her daughter practically vibrated with wild, magnetic energy.

  For many reasons, Devony was awestruck by both daywalker females, not the least of which being that they were her own relatives.

  After introductions in the foyer, the two women had taken her to a lovely guestroom suite in a quiet part of the mansion. They were seated together in a comfortable conversation area of the room, Devony on an oversized upholstered chair, Tavia and Carys perched across from her on a silk-covered sofa.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Tavia asked gently. “I can only imagine how you must be feeling after your ordeal tonight.”

  Devony had explained to them about her brownstone being attacked, but even after assuring the two women she was fine, it hadn’t seemed to lessen their concern. They fussed over her, offering food and drink and the full use of the sumptuous guestroom. Carys had even brought her sleepwear and a change of clothes from her own wardrobe. The silk robe and pajamas were as much a temptation as the oversized soaking tub in the adjacent bath.

  But it was difficult to think of her own comfort knowing Rafe was somewhere else in the mansion being confronted by another of the Chases, one of the Order’s most formidable members.

  Sterling Chase, his former commander.

  “I can’t believe you’ve been right under our noses here in Boston,” Carys said. She had also been avidly studying Devony from the moment they sat down. “How did you and Rafe meet?”

  “It’s ah . . . kind of a long story.”

  “And one for another time,” Tavia said. “I’m sure Devony would like to rest.”

  Carys’s expression slumped. “All right, until then. I’m sorry, I just have so many questions for you.”

  Devony could hardly hide her curiosity, either. There was so much she wanted to ask these two women, so much she wanted to know about their lives. But she hadn’t come there on a social call. She wasn’t even sure she and Rafe would be allowed to stay.

  “I’d like that, Carys.”

  “Good. You’ll even have a chance to meet my brother, Aric. He and his mate, Kaya, are here now from Montreal,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling. “They’ve come with a few other daywalkers who’ve joined the Order as part of a special unit with him. You’ll have to meet them all while you’re here.”

  Tavia gently cleared her throat, more than likely to curtail her daughter from divulging Order business to a stranger. She rose, indicating for Carys to join her. “Please, make yourself at home, Devony. As I said, we’re going to let you relax now. If you need anything at all, consider it yours.”

  She followed the pair to the door. Carys stepped out with a bright smile and a friendly wave, but Tavia paused there. She pulled Devony into a brief hug.

  “I know these are terrible circumstances for our first meeting, but I’m very glad you’re here.” Her fingers were cool and soothing as she smoothed some of Devony’s hair off her face. “I’m only sorry I didn’t get the chance to meet your mother . . . my sister. I’m sure she was a very special woman.”

  “She was,” Devony said. “She was the bravest woman I knew.”

  Tavia nodded. “I have a feeling she would say the same thing about you, if she were here to see you now.”

  Devony swallowed, emotion jamming in her throat at the sentiment, however unwarranted. She wasn’t brave. She was angry. She was hurting. She wanted to deliver pain—not only as retribution for her family now, but for how close she’d come to losing Rafe.

  And if Opus thought they could scare her away by torching her home tonight, all they had done was galvanize her need for vengeance into something stronger, steelier.

  And now, she had a partner in that battle.

  If it had to be the two of them against the rest of the world—even against the Order, if it should come down to that—she was ready for that fight. She was ready for anything, so long as Rafe was at her side.

  Breaking into her grim thoughts, Tavia leaned in and kissed her cheek. “We’ll have time to talk some more after you’ve had a chance to settle in.”

  Devony managed a smile. “I hope so.”

  She closed the door behind the women, realizing just now how exhausted she truly was. And she smelled awful, too. All the death and violence she and Rafe had left behind in the city still clung to her jacket, turtleneck, and jeans. A bath and a fresh change of clothes were more than a temptation; they were a necessity.

  She turned on the water to the large soaking tub and traded her clothing for the white silk robe Carys had given her. The cool, glossy fabric was pure decadence against her bare skin. With the warm water slowly gathering in the tub, she checked out the tall bottles of bath oil, settling on a rose-infused vanilla fragrance that smelled almost good enough to eat.

  A quiet rap sounded on the door in the other room.

  She hurried out, expecting to find Carys or Tavia waiting on the other side.

  “Rafe.”

  She flew to him. She couldn’t have stayed out of his arms if her life depended on it. He stepped inside with her wrapped in his arms, and shut the door behind them, turning the lock with his mind.

  They had only been apart less than an hour since arriving at the Order’s mansion, but to her it felt like an eternity. After the night they had endured, she never wanted to be separated from him again.

  “I’ve been worried,” she whispered against his lips. “How did it go?”

  “I’m handling it.” He shrugged, dismissive of her concern as he continued to kiss her. “You look gorgeous in this. Smell like vanilla.”

  “Carys lent me a few things. I was just about to take a bath.” Her words were all but lost amid the fevered brush of his lips over hers.

  “I feel like I’ve been away from you for days.” He tipped her face up to his, a look of torment and wonder in his glittering aquamarine eyes. “Do you have any idea how much I need to feel you in my arms right now?”

  Breathless with desire, she shook her head. “Show me.”

  He frowned. “I’m covered in grit and grime. Christ, I smell like death.”

  “Do I look like I care?”

  She pulled him down for her kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair as her tongue sought his, their hot breaths mingling, bodies crushed together, held there by his strong arms.

  Devony whimpered, overcome by the flood of emotions that rushed up on her as Rafe kissed her senseless. She couldn’t explain her desperation for him. Somehow, the moment she saw him in the open doorway just now had felt so fragile—an illusion that could shatter with a single breath.

  Maybe it was the havoc of the past few hours that made her feel so breakable. All of the death. So much ugliness and violence, topped off by a brutal demonstration of what it meant to make an enemy out of Opus Nostrum. And, then, the destruction of her home.

  But worst of all was the stark understanding that tonight she had likely been only minutes away from losing Rafe forever, if the liquid UV had been allowed to do its worst on him.

  God help her, she would never forget that awful feeling as long as she lived.

  The anguish swelled inside her, a black tide of dread.

  “Hey.” Rafe pulled back from their kiss, his brows knit. He gave a tight shake of his head. “Don’t think about what happened tonight.”

  He knew how bleak her thoughts had gone. Of course, he knew. He could feel her strongest emotions through the blood she had given him. Now, he always would.

  “Hey, look at me.” He stroked her brow, her cheek, her lips. Sparks danced and smoldered in his eyes. “I’m here. You’re safe, Devony. As long as I’m breathing, you will be sa
fe. I promise you that. Tonight, we’re together . . . because of you.”

  “Rafe.” His name was a sigh through her teeth and emerging fangs. That shivery breath melted into a moan as he lowered his mouth to hers again.

  All of the trauma and worries incinerated under the heat of his kiss. But where their need for each other was so often an explosive one, tonight there was as much unhurried tenderness as there was unbearable desire.

  On a harsh groan, his lips moved away from hers, trailing down over the edge of her jaw and onto the sensitive column of her neck. Devony sucked in her breath, arousal spiraling through her. It twined with the powerful craving to feel his fangs sink into her bare flesh.

  He growled in response to the hot coil of her need. “Fuck, you’re killing me. I can feel everything.”

  She couldn’t help it. Couldn’t curb all the sensations he stoked within her. They climbed higher with every flick of his tongue and graze of his sharp fangs. Each caress of his hands over the silk covering her naked body licked through her like an open flame.

  “Jesus, Devony . . . you are amazing. So fucking beautiful.”

  He opened the robe and slid his hand onto her breast, kneading and stroking, pinching the pebbled nipple. His palm skimmed the front of her, down onto her abdomen as his tongue swept inside her mouth. She squirmed under his sensual assault, desire swamping her, pooling hot and wet in her core.

  And then he touched her there. His fingers delved into the cleft of her body, slipping through her juices, making the hard hammer of her pulse become a drumming roar. She pulled in a sharp breath as he teased her clit and the sensitive flesh surrounding it. When he stepped back from her, she couldn’t hold back her protesting groan.

  “I wish you could see yourself as I am right now,” he rasped. He licked his lips as the heat of his glowing eyes raked every inch of her. Everywhere his amber-filled gaze touched her, she burned. He drank her in slowly, as if he had all night to savor every inch of her.

  God help her, she would never last.

  She took a step toward him and he shook his head, a wicked tilt to his sexy mouth. He pulled his shirt off with impatient hands, tossing it aside. No trace of the UV burns remained on him anywhere now. Across his muscled chest and the ridges of his stomach, his glyphs roiled, alive with all the deep colors of desire.

 

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