Stroke of Midnight Page 6

  Marcel gasped. “What?”

  Seraphina’s eyes went about as wide as he imagined his brother’s had just now.

  “It’s important, Marcel. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”

  “But you can’t leave the villa. If you leave Seraphina alone out there, you’ll be breaking the pact. Hell, you already are just by making this call to me.”

  “No one will know I called except you.” Jehan glanced at Seraphina and shook his head. “As for breaking the pact by leaving her at the villa without me, not happening. She’s coming with me, and we won’t be gone long. No one will be the wiser.”

  “Except, once again, me.” Marcel groaned. “I probably don’t want to know what any of this is about, do I?”

  “Probably not.” Jehan smiled.

  Marcel exhaled a curse. “Please tell me you don’t want my Lambo.”

  “Actually, I was hoping for one of the Rovers from the Darkhaven fleet. With a full tank of fuel, if you would.”

  Marcel’s deep sigh gusted over the line. “Does Seraphina realize yet what a demanding pain in the ass you can be?”

  Jehan met her gaze and grinned. “I imagine she’s figuring that out.”

  Marcel chuckled. “I’ll drop it off at sundown.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “Careful with that crate, Aleph. Those glass vials of vaccines are fragile.”

  Walking across the moonlit sand with her arm around one of the children from the refugee camp and a box of bandages held in her other hand, Sera directed another of the volunteers to the open back of the supply-laden Range Rover. “Massoud, take the large sack of rice to Fatima in the mess tent and ask her where she’d like us to store the rest of the raw grains. Let her know we have some crates of canned meats and boxes of fruit here too.”

  Behind her at the vehicle, Jehan was busy unloading the crates and boxes and sacks they’d just arrived with from the checkpoint near Marrakesh. Sera couldn’t help pausing to watch him work. Dressed in jeans and a loose linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his glyph-covered forearms, he pitched in like the best of her other workers. Even better, in fact, since he was Breed. His strength and stamina outpaced half a dozen humans put together.

  She still couldn’t believe what he’d done for her tonight. For a village of displaced people he’d never met and didn’t have to care about. All of the indignation and anger she’d felt toward him since their first night at the villa evaporated under her admiration for what he was doing now.

  And it wasn’t only admiration she felt when she looked at him.

  There was attraction, to be sure. White-hot and magnetic.

  But something stronger had begun to kindle inside her today. As unsettling as her desire for him was, this new emotion was even more terrifying. She liked him.

  Jehan had intrigued her from their first introduction, even after she’d learned he made his living as a warrior. Their kiss at the banquet had ignited a need in her that she still hadn’t been able to dismiss. And then, when he’d helped her out of her dress that initial night at the villa, she’d wanted him with an intensity that nearly overwhelmed her.

  After he’d left her humiliated and awash in frustration, she’d almost been able to convince herself that he was simply an arrogant bastard and an aggravation she would just have to avoid or endure for the rest of their week together.

  Now he had to go and do something kind for her like this. Something surprising and selfless.

  Frowning, she turned away from him on a groan. “Come on, Yasmin. Let’s go see if Fatima has anything good waiting in her kitchen tonight.”

  As they walked into the center of the camp, a Jeep was arriving from the other end of the makeshift village of tents and meager outbuildings. Yellow headlights bounced in the darkness as the vehicle jostled over the ruts in the dirt road into camp. The Jeep came to a halt several yards up and Karsten Hemmings hopped out of the driver’s seat.

  “Sera?” He jogged to meet her, a welcoming grin on his ruggedly handsome face. “I was down at the southern camp when I got word the supplies had been released.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he took the box out of her hands. Then he reached down to pat the child’s head with a smile. “What’s going on? I thought you said you were going to be delayed with your parents for a few more days?”

  She shrugged at the reminder of the small lie she’d told him. “I found an opportunity to get away for a little while, so I thought I’d run to Marrakesh and see what I could do about the supplies.”

  Karsten made a wry sound in his throat as he tossed the box of bandages to a passing camp volunteer. “How much did it cost this time?”

  “A few thousand.”

  After haggling the checkpoint supervisor down as far as she could manage, she’d arranged to have the money wired to the corrupt official’s personal account. It simply was the way business was done in her line of work sometimes, but all of the “few thousands” had added up over the years. Her account was nearly tapped dry now—at least until she completed the handfast and her father released her trust.

  A group of children ran past and shouted for Yasmin to join them in a game of tag. The promise of treats in the mess tent quickly forgotten, the little girl ran off to join her friends.

  “Stay close to camp, all of you!” Karsten called after them, watching them go. Then he cocked his head at Sera. “It’s good to see you. When I heard you’d left to go to your family without telling anyone what it was about, I was afraid something was wrong.” He glanced down, finally taking in her appearance. “What the hell happened to your clothes?”

  Seeing how Leila had outfitted her for a week of lounging and potential romance, before Sera left the villa, she’d raided Jehan’s wardrobe for something practical to wear out in the field.

  She couldn’t show up wearing any of the dresses or peasant skirts her sister had selected, so Sera had appropriated Jehan’s white linen tunic from the night of the banquet and a loose-fitting pair of linen pants. With the pant legs rolled up several times, the waist held around her by a makeshift red silk belt, and a pair of her own kid leather flats, her clothing wasn’t fashionable, but it was functional.

  It also had the added benefit that it carried Jehan’s deliciously spicy scent, which had been teasing her senses ever since she slipped the tunic over her head.

  She wasn’t sure how to explain what she was wearing, but then Karsten no longer seemed interested. His gaze flicked past Sera now, to where Jehan had just unloaded the last of the crates and supplies.

  His brow rankled in confusion. “Who’s that?”

  “A friend,” she said, unsure why she should feel awkward calling him that.

  “He’s Breed.” Karsten’s eyes came back to her now, wariness flattening his lips as he lowered his voice. “You brought one of them into the camp?”

  Even though it had been twenty years and counting since the Breed were outed to mankind, prejudices still lingered. Even in her affable coworker, apparently.

  “It’s okay. Jehan is, ah...an old friend of my family.” She waved her hand in dismissal of his concerns. “Besides, we won’t be staying long. We have to get back to the villa tonight.”

  “The villa?”

  Shit. She really didn’t want to explain the whole awkward family pact and handfasting scenario to him. For one thing, it was none of Karsten’s business—even if she did consider him a friend after they had dated briefly once upon a time. And maybe it was none of his business precisely because of the fact they had once dated.

  Whatever the reason, she felt strangely protective of the time she’d spent with Jehan. It belonged to them—no one else.

  “Once we get everything settled here in the camp, Jehan and I need to return. We’re expected to be back as soon as possible.” Which was about as close to the truth as she was going to get on that subject.

  Karsten shook his head. “Well, you won’t be leaving tonight. There’s a big dust storm rolling in off the Sahara. I
t’s moving fast, due here in the next hour or less. No way you’ll be able to outrun it.”

  “Oh, no.” A knot of anxiety tightened in her chest. “That’s awful news.”

  “What’s awful news?”

  Jehan’s deep voice awakened her nerve endings as sensually as a caress. He’d closed up the Rover and strode up behind her before she even realized it. When she pivoted to face him, she found his arresting blue eyes locked on Karsten.

  “You must be Jehan.” Instead of extending his hand in greeting, Karsten’s fists balled on his hips. “I’m Karsten Hemmings, Sera’s partner.”

  “Coworker.” Jehan subtly corrected him. And as far as introductions went, his didn’t exactly project friendliness either. His palm came down soft and warm—possessively—on her shoulder. “What’s awful news?”

  She tried to act as though his lingering touch was no big deal, as if it wasn’t waking up every cell in her body and flooding her with heat. “There’s a dust storm coming. Karsten says we may have to wait it out here at the camp. I know we need to get back soon, though. Your brother’s waiting for us to return the Rover tonight—”

  “Sera, if your friend has somewhere he needs to be,” Karsten piped in helpfully, “then why don’t you wait out the storm here at camp and I can bring you back to your parents’ place tomorrow, after it passes?”

  “Not happening.” Jehan’s curt reply allowed no argument. “If Seraphina stays for any reason, so do I.”

  Although he didn’t say it outright, the message was broadcasted loud and clear. He wasn’t about to leave her alone with Karsten, storm or no storm.

  And if the protective, alpha tone of his voice hadn’t sent her heart into a free fall in her breast, she might have found the good sense to be offended by his unprovoked, aggressive reaction to the only other male in her current orbit.

  Karsten smiled mildly and lifted a shoulder. “Suit yourself, then. I’m going to start boarding things up ahead of the storm. If you need me, Sera, you know where I am.”

  She nodded and watched him walk away. Then she wheeled around to face Jehan. “You were very rude to my friend.”

  “Friend?” He snorted under his breath. “That human thinks he’s more than a friend to you.” Jehan’s sharp blue eyes narrowed. “He was more than that at one time, wasn’t he?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “We went on a few dates, nothing more. I wasn’t interested in him.”

  “But he was interested in you. Still is.”

  “You sound jealous.”

  He exhaled harshly through flared nostrils. “Call it observant.”

  “I called it jealous.” She stepped closer to him in the moonlight, weathering the heat that rolled off his big body and flashed from the depths of his smoldering gaze. His jaw was clamped hard, and the dark-stubbled skin that covered it seemed stretched too tightly across his handsome, perturbed face. “Why the hell should it bother you if Karsten is a friend of mine or something more? It’s not like you have any claim on me. I could go after him right now and there’s really nothing you can say about it.”

  A low sound rumbled from deep inside of him. “I would hope you don’t intend to try me.”

  “Why? Because of some stupid pact?” Her voice climbed with her frustration. “You don’t even believe in it, but yet you want to pretend we have to live by its terms.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about the damned pact, Seraphina.”

  “That didn’t stop you from using it as an excuse to make me feel like an idiot.”

  Sparks ignited in the shadowed pools of his eyes. “If you really think my walking away from you that night had anything to do with the pact, then you are an idiot.”

  She sucked in a breath, ready to hurl a curse at him, but he didn’t give her the chance.

  In less than a pace, he closed the distance between them. One strong hand slid into her loose hair and around her nape. The other splayed against her lower spine as he drew her to him and took her mouth in a blazing hot, hungry kiss.

  Seraphina moaned as pleasure and need swamped her. Her breasts crushed against the firm, muscled slabs of his chest. Against her belly, his cock was a thick, solid ridge of heat and power and carnal demand. Hunger tore through her, quicksilver and molten. It burned away her anger, obliterated her outrage and frustration. As he deepened their kiss and his tongue breached her parted lips, all she knew was need.

  She speared her fingers into his thick, soft waves and clung to him, lost in desire and oblivious of their surroundings. Willing to ignore everything so long as Jehan was holding her like this, kissing her as if he’d been longing for it as much as she had.

  He drew back on a snarled curse and looked at her. His eyes snapped with embers, his pupils nothing but vertical slits in the middle of all that fire. His wet lips peeled back off his teeth and fangs as he drew in a deep breath, scenting her like the predatory being he truly was.

  For a moment, she thought he was about to pick her up and carry her off to some secluded corner of the camp as if he owned her. She wouldn’t have fought him. God, not even close.

  But as they stood there, Sera felt a subtle sting start to needle her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes started to burn, then the next breath she took carried the grit of fine sand to the back of her throat.

  The storm.

  It was arriving even sooner than Karsten had warned.

  She didn’t have to tell Jehan. Pulling her close, he tucked her head against his chest and rushed with her toward the nearest outbuilding as the night began to fill with a roiling swell of yellow dust.

  CHAPTER 10

  By the time they reached the aluminum-roofed storage building several yards ahead, the biting wind had picked up with a howl. Sand churned across the camp, blowing as thick as a blizzard.

  His body still charged with arousal, Jehan held Seraphina against him as he threw open the rickety wooden door. “Inside, quickly.”

  She no sooner entered the shelter than a muffled cry somewhere amid the storm drew both of them to full alert. The voice was small, distant. Unmistakably terrified.

  “Yasmin.” Seraphina’s face blanched with worry. “Oh, God. The little girl who came to greet us when we arrived. She and some other children ran off to play a few minutes ago.”

  The cry came again, more plaintive now. There was pain in the child’s voice too.

  Jehan cursed. “Stay here. I’ll find her.”

  Without waiting for her to argue, he dashed back into the night using the speed of his Breed genetics. The little girl’s wails were a beacon through the blinding sea of flying sand. Jehan followed her cries to a deep ditch on the far side of the camp. At the bottom of the rugged drop, her small body lay curled in a tight ball.

  “Yasmin?”

  At the sound of her name, she lifted her head. Agony and terror flooded her tear-filled eyes. The poor child was shaking and sobbing, choking on the airborne sand.

  Jehan jumped down into the ditch. Crouching low beside her, he sheltered her with his body as the sandstorm roiled all around them. “Are you hurt?”

  Her dark head wobbled in a jerky nod. “My leg hurts. I was trying to hide from my friends, but I fell and they all ran away.”

  Jehan gingerly examined her. As soon as his palm skated over her left shin and ankle, he felt the hot pain of a compound fracture. The break streaked through his senses like a jagged bolt of lightning. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of here.”

  He collected Yasmin into his arms and carried her up from the ditch. At the crest of it, Seraphina was waiting. A heavy blanket covered her from head to toe as a makeshift shield from the storm. She opened her arms as Jehan strode toward her, enveloping him and the child as the three of them made their way across the camp.

  “She needs a medic,” he informed Seraphina as she murmured quiet reassurances to the scared child. “I felt two fractures in the lower part of the left fibula, and a fairly bad sprain in the ankle.”

  Seraphina’s brows kn
itted for a second, then she acknowledged with a nod. “The medical building is in the center of camp. This way.”

  She set their course for one of the glowing yellow lights emanating through the sand and darkness up ahead.

  Jehan didn’t miss the uncertain glances he drew as he and Seraphina brought the injured child into the small field hospital. Their wariness didn’t bother him. Being Breed, he was accustomed to the wide berth most humans tended to give him. And it didn’t escape his notice that one of the nurses carrying a cooler with a large red cross on it made an immediate about-face retreat the instant her eyes landed on him—as if her stash of refrigerated red cells might provoke him to attack.

  The humans needn’t have worried about that. His kind only consumed fresh blood, taken from an open vein.

  And right now, the only veins that interested him at all belonged to the beautiful woman standing next to him. Even dressed in his worn shirt and oversized pants, Seraphina stirred everything male in him the same way she stirred the vampire side of his nature.

  Just because their kiss had been interrupted by the storm and a distressed child, that didn’t mean he’d forgotten any of that fire Seraphina had ignited in him. Now that the little girl was safe and in the care of a doctor, Jehan’s attention—all of his focus—was centered on how quickly he could get back to where he and Seraphina had left off.

  But he stood by patiently as she made introductions and explained to her fellow volunteers that Jehan was her friend, that he was the one who went out into the storm to locate Yasmin. Seraphina’s vouching for him seemed enough to put the humans at ease, since it was clear that everyone at the camp trusted and adored her.

  He was beginning to feel likewise.

  More than beginning to feel that way, in fact.

  After the medic and nurses went back to their work, Seraphina turned to look up at him.

  “When you brought Yasmin out of the storm, you said her leg was broken.” He nodded, but that didn’t seem to satisfy Seraphina’s curiosity. “Actually, you said her fibula had two fractures and that her ankle was badly sprained. You were right, Jehan. According to the field medic just a few minutes ago, you were one hundred percent accurate. You told me you felt her injuries. You can feel physical injuries?”