Stroke of Midnight: A Midnight Breed Novella (The Midnight Breed Series) Read online

  now and go back to my work with

  the Order.”

  “Ohh, no.” He vigorously

  shook his head. “Even if I wanted to

  —which I don’t—without another

  mated couple occurring naturally

  between our families, the pact calls

  for the eldest son of the eldest male

  of our line. That means you.

  Besides, there are worse fates.

  Seraphina Sanhaja is a gorgeous

  woman.”

  Seraphina. It was the first time

  he’d heard the name of his intended.

  A silken, exotic name. Just the

  sound of it made Jehan’s blood

  course a bit hotter in his veins. He

  dismissed the sensation with a

  sharp sigh as he stared at his

  brother. He couldn’t deny that a part

  of him was intrigued to know more.

  “You’ve seen her?”

  Marcel nodded. “She and her

  sister, Leila, are both stunning.”

  Not surprising, considering

  they were Breedmates. Although

  they didn’t have the vampiric traits

  of Jehan’s kind, the half-human,

  half-Atlantean

  females

  called

  Breedmates were flawless beauties

  without exception. His Paris-born

  mother was testament to that. As

  was Lazaro Archer’s flame-haired

  Breedmate back in Rome, Melena.

  “So, what’s wrong with her,

  then?” Jehan murmured. “Let me

  guess. She’s a miserable, bickering

  shrew? Or is it worse, a meek little

  mouse who’s afraid of her own

  shadow?”

  “She’s

  neither.”

  Marcel

  grinned

  as

  he

  eased

  the

  Lamborghini through the opened

  gates. “She’s lovely, Jehan. You’ll

  see for yourself soon enough.”

  “Not if I have anything to say

  about that.” Crossing his arms, he

  sat back in the buttery soft leather

  seat. “I have a return flight to Rome

  tomorrow. I figure that gives me

  plenty of time to convey my regrets

  to our parents and get the hell out of

  here.”

  “You can’t do that. Everything

  is already in motion. I told you,

  arrangements were made right after

  you called.”

  Jehan cursed under his breath.

  “If I’d realized our parents would

  charge forward without asking me, I

  could’ve saved everyone the effort.

  I should’ve told them over the

  phone that I wasn’t interested in any

  of this and stayed put in Rome.

  Unfortunately, it’s too late for that

  now. Whatever arrangements have

  been made will need to be

  canceled.”

  “I don’t think you understand,

  brother.” Marcel slowed the car as

  they rolled onto the half-moon drive

  of the Darkhaven’s impressive

  arched entrance. “The handfast

  begins tomorrow. Which means the

  families assemble for the official

  meet-and-greet tonight. There will

  be formal introductions, followed

  by the traditional garden walk at

  midnight, and the turning of the

  hourglass to mark the celebratory

  commencement and the start of the

  handfast period.”

  Jehan’s unfamiliarity with the

  process must have been as apparent

  as his disinterest. Marcel frowned

  at him. “You don’t have any idea

  what I’m talking about, do you? For

  fuck’s sake, the pact’s been in place

  for centuries, but you never took the

  time to study the terms?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  Marcel’s lips quirked at the

  droll reply, but it was clear that he

  took the pact seriously. Apparently

  everyone did, aside from Jehan.

  For an instant, he felt a pang of

  loss for his absence all these years.

  It had been his choice to leave, his

  choice to make his own way in the

  world instead of being satisfied

  with the privileged, if stifling, one

  he’d been handed at birth. He’d

  yearned more for adventure than

  tradition, and supposed he always

  would.

  “So, this handfast entails what,

  exactly?”

  “A period of eight nights, spent

  together in seclusion. No visitors,

  no communication with the outside

  world in any form. Just the two of

  you, alone at the oasis retreat on the

  border of our lands and the

  Sanhajas’.”

  “In other words, imprisonment

  for a week and a day with a female

  who may or may not be a willing

  party to this whole forced seduction

  ritual. Followed by what—a public

  blood bond encouraged at sword

  point?”

  “Forced seduction? Public

  blood bond?” Marcel gaped at him

  as if he’d lost his mind. “The

  handfast is all about consent, Jehan.

  Touch Seraphina against her wishes

  and her family has the right to take

  your head. Drink her blood without

  her permission and no one would

  balk if the Sanhajas took out their

  revenge on the entire Mafakhir

  tribe. This is serious shit.”

  Not to mention, archaic. Even

  though he had no plans to touch

  Seraphina Sanhaja or any other

  female who wasn’t of his own

  choosing, Jehan’s curiosity was

  piqued. “I thought the whole point

  of the pact was to seal the peace

  between our two families with a

  blood bond.”

  “It is,” Marcel said. “But only

  if the handfast is successful.”

  “Meaning?”

  “There has to be a mutual

  agreement. There has to be love. If

  there’s no desire to bond as a mated

  couple at the end of the handfast, the

  couple is free to go their separate

  ways and the pact then moves on to

  the next pair in line.”

  “So, there’s an out clause?”

  Jehan’s brows rose in surprise.

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all

  night.”

  His

  brother

  released

  a

  frustrated-sounding breath. “I don’t

  know why I’m bothering to explain

  any of this to you. The terms will be

  spelled out in detail at the ceremony

  tomorrow night.”

  The ceremony Jehan had no

  intention of attending.

  Marcel parked in front of the

  opulent estate and killed the engine.

  The Aventador’s scissor doors

  lifted upward and the two Breed

  males climbed out.

  As they began to ascend the

  wide, polished stone steps leading

  to the Darkhaven’s entrance, Jehan

  asked, “Who’s the nex
t pair in line

  after Seraphina and me?”

  “That would be the Breedmate

  next nearest the age of thirty in the

  Sanhaja family, and the unmated

  eldest son of the second-eldest

  Breed male in our line. You

  remember our cousin, Fariq.”

  Jehan

  mentally

  recoiled.

  “Fariq, who prided himself on his

  collection of dead insects and

  snakes as a boy?”

  Marcel chuckled. “He’s not

  nicknamed Renfield for nothing.”

  And Jehan couldn’t help but

  feel guilty that his refusal of the

  pact would mean some unfortunate

  Breedmate would eventually have

  to spend eight nights alone with the

  repulsive male.

  But he didn’t feel guilty

  enough to let the farce continue. He

  had to halt the whole thing before it

  went any further.

  “Father’s waiting for you in

  his study,” Marcel told him as they

  reached the top. “Everyone else is

  in the main salon, where the formal

  introductions will be made.”

  Alarm shot through him at that

  last announcement. Jehan grabbed

  his

  brother’s

  muscled

  arm.

  “Everyone else?”

  “Mother and the Sanhajas. And

  Seraphina, of course.”

  Ah, fuck. If he thought this was

  bad enough before he stepped off

  the plane tonight, the situation had

  just nose-dived into a disaster zone.

  “They’re here right now? All of

  them?”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling

  you. Everything is already in motion

  and ready to begin. We were only

  waiting for you to arrive, brother.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The sound of deep male voices

  carried from the foyer. Until that

  moment, the small gathering inside

  the Darkhaven’s elegant salon had

  been engaged in pleasant chatter

  about the weather and a dozen other

  light subjects. But at the low rumble

  of muffled conversation somewhere

  outside the gilded walls, a palpable

  spike of anticipation pierced the

  atmosphere in the room.

  “Ah, my sons have finally

  arrived.” Beautiful and poised,

  Simone Mafakhir smiled from her

  seat on a silk divan, her sky blue

  eyes lit with excitement. “I know

  Jehan will be delighted to meet you,

  Seraphina.”

  Sera’s mouth was suddenly too

  dry to speak, but she gave a polite

  nod and returned the brunette

  Breedmate’s warm smile.

  “Seraphina’s talked of little

  else all day,” her mother said,

  giving Sera’s hand a pat from her

  seat beside her on a velvet sofa

  opposite Simone. “She’s been full

  of curiosity about Jehan ever since

  she

  arrived

  back

  home

  this

  morning.”

  On the other side of Sera, her

  blonde, twenty-two-year-old sister,

  Leila, barely stifled a giggle.

  It was true. Sera had been full

  of questions since she’d been called

  home by her parents. She still didn’t

  know much about Jehan, other than

  the fact that he’d flown in tonight

  from Rome, where he’d been living

  for many years. And that he’d come

  because he had been summoned to

  fulfill his role in the ancient

  handfasting pact that had existed

  between their families for half a

  dozen centuries.

  The same as she had.

  That is, if she managed to

  make it through the evening without

  bolting for the nearest escape.

  She pressed the back of her

  hand to her forehead, which had

  gone suddenly clammy. Her heart

  was racing, and her lungs felt as if

  they were suddenly caught in a vise.

  She stood up, not quite steady

  on the high heels she wasn’t

  accustomed

  to

  wearing.

  The

  flouncy, blush-pink dress she’d

  borrowed from Leila on her sister’s

  insistence swayed around her knees

  as she wobbled, lightheaded and

  fighting the wave of nausea that

  rose up on her.

  “Would it be possible to,

  um...freshen up for a moment?”

  “Yes, of course,” Simone

  replied. “There’s a powder room

  just down the hall.”

  Her parents both looked at her

  in genuine concern. “Are you all

  right, darling?” her mother asked.

  “Yes.” Sera gave them a weak

  nod that only made her wooziness

  worse. “I’m fine, really.”

  She just needed to get the hell

  out of there before she passed out

  or threw up.

  Leila stood and grabbed her

  elbow. “I’ll go with you.”

  They hurried out of the room

  together, Sera practically leaving

  her sister in her wake. Once safely

  enclosed in the large powder room,

  Sera sagged against the back of the

  door.

  “What on earth is wrong with

  you?” Leila whispered.

  Sera

  swallowed

  back

  a

  building scream. “I can’t do this. I

  thought maybe I could—for our

  parents, since it’s obviously so

  important to them—but I can’t. I

  mean, this whole situation...the

  pact, the handfasting? It’s insane,

  right? I never should have agreed to

  any of this.”

  It was all happening too

  quickly. Yesterday morning, an e-

  mail from her parents had reached

  her at the remote outpost where

  she’d been working. The message

  had been short and cryptic, telling

  her that she was needed at home

  immediately.

  Terrified with concern, she’d

  dropped everything and raced back

  —only to learn that the emergency

  requiring her presence was a musty

  old agreement that would send her

  away with a complete stranger. A

  Breed

  male

  who

  may

  not

  understand or care that her carotid

  wasn’t up for grabs, regardless of

  what the pact between their families

  might imply.

  Oh, God. Her stomach started

  to spin again. She pressed her hand

  to her abdomen and took a

  steadying breath.

  She

  paced

  the

  cramped

  powder room, her voice beginning

  to rise. “I need to get out of here. I

  can’t do this, Leila. I must’ve been

  out of my mind for even considering

  coming here tonight.”

>   Her sister stared at her

  patiently, her soft green eyes

  sympathetic as she let Sera vent.

  “You’re just nervous. I would be

  too. But I don’t think you’re crazy

  for being here. And I don’t think the

  agreement between our families is

  insane, either.” She swept a blonde

  tendril behind her ear and shrugged.

  “It’s endured all these years for a

  reason. Actually, I think it’s kind of

  romantic.”

  “Romantic?” Sera scoffed.

  “What’s romantic about a truce

  struck after years of bloodshed

  resulting from the kidnap of a virgin

  Breedmate from our tribe by a

  barbarian Breed male from theirs

  six-hundred years ago?”

  Leila let out a sigh. “Things

  were different back then. And it’s

  romantic because they fell in love.”

  Sera arched her brows in

  challenge. “Tragic, because despite

  their blood bond, they both died in

  the end and set off a long, violent

  war.”

  Sera knew the whole, tragic

  story as well as her sister did. It

  was practically legend in the

  Sanhaja family. And if she was

  being honest, there was a part of her

  that ached for that long-dead couple

  and their doomed love.

  But it didn’t change the fact

  that centuries later, here she was,

  standing in a locked bathroom in a

  borrowed dress and high-heeled

  sandals, while just down the hall, a

  Breed male she’d never even met

  before was expecting her to go

  away with him for eight long nights

  —all in their parents’ shared hopes

  that they might come back madly in

  love and bound by blood for

  eternity.

  Ridiculous.

  Sera shook her head. “It

  might’ve been true centuries ago

  that the best way to guarantee peace

  was to turn an enemy into family,”

  she conceded. “But that was then

  and this is now. There hasn’t been

  conflict between the Mafakhirs and

  our family for decades.”

  Leila tilted her head. “And

  how do you know that’s not because

  the pact was in place all that time?

  Since it first began, there’s never

  been a time when there wasn’t at

  least one mated pair between our

  families. Until now. What if the pact

  really is the only thing keeping the

  peace? It’s never been broken or

  tested, Sera. Do you really want to

  be the first one to try?”

  For a moment, hearing her

  sister’s emphatic reply, Seraphina

  almost bought into the whole myth.

  At twenty-seven, she was a

  practical, independent woman who

  knew her own mind as well as her

  own worth, but there was a small