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

  him to pick up. It took several rings,

  then Marcel’s confused voice came

  over the line in greeting. “Hello?”

  Jehan got right to the point. “I

  have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Jehan? What the hell are you

  doing calling me? And where did

  you get the phone? You know

  there’s

  supposed

  to

  be

  no

  technology

  or

  outside

  communication—”

  “I

  know,”

  he

  bit

  off

  impatiently. “Where are you right

  now?”

  “Ah...I’m home, but I’m getting

  ready to head out for a while.

  What’s going on? Is everything all

  right with Seraphina?”

  “She’s fine. We’re fine,” Jehan

  assured him. “I need a vehicle. As

  soon as possible.”

  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
r />   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. It’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 nodd
ed 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