Table of Contents
Title Page
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
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
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COPYRIGHT
BOUND TO DARKNESS
A Midnight Breed Novel
LARA ADRIAN
© 2015 Lara Adrian, LLC
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (v1)
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BOUND TO DARKNESS
A Midnight Breed Novel
Book 13
The “strikingly original” (Booklist) Midnight Breed vampire romance series continues with a pulse-pounding novel of paranormal passion and suspense from New York Times and #1 international bestselling author Lara Adrian.
Carys Chase is accustomed to making her own rules and letting her heart lead the way—no matter what anyone else has to say about it. A rare Breed female and a daywalker as well, headstrong, beautiful Carys is one of the most powerful of her kind. She lives passionately and loves without limits, especially when it comes to the lethal cage-fighting Breed warrior called Rune.
Unbeatable in the ring, Rune exists in a brutal world of blood and bone and death. He’s made his share of enemies both in and out of the arena, and his secrets run as deep and turbulent as his past. A dangerous loner who has survived by his fists and fangs, Rune has never allowed anyone to get too close to him…until Carys. But when the bodies buried in his past rise up to threaten his present, Rune must choose between betraying Carys’s trust or putting her in the crosshairs of a battle neither of them can hope to win on their own.
CHAPTER 1
Titanium spikes slashed the fighter’s face, spraying blood across the floor of the steel cage and thrilling the crowd of cheering spectators inside the underground fighting arena. Gritty industrial music pounded from the dance club upstairs, bringing the din to a deafening pitch as the long match between the pair of Breed males built toward its finish.
Carys Chase stood near the front, among the throng of avid spectators as Rune’s fist connected with his opponent’s face again. More shouts and applause erupted for the undefeated champion of Boston’s most brutal arena.
The fights were technically illegal, but highly lucrative. And since the outing of the Breed to their terrified human neighbors twenty years ago, there were few sporting events more popular than the outlawed gladiator-style matches pitting a pair of six-and-a-half foot, three-hundred pound vampires against each other in a closed, steel mesh cage.
Blood was essential to Carys and her race, but sometimes it seemed mankind was even more thirsty for it. Especially when the spillage was restricted to members of the Breed.
Although even Carys had to admit that watching a vampire like Rune fight was a thing of beauty. He was dangerous grace and lethal savagery.
And he was hers.
For the past seven weeks—since the night she’d stepped into La Notte with a small group of friends and first saw Rune battling inside the cage—they had been practically inseparable. She had fallen fast and hard and deep, and hadn’t looked back for a second.
Much to her parents’ dismay. They and her twin brother, Aric, had all but forbade her to see Rune, basing their judgment on his profession and reputation alone. They didn’t know him. They didn’t want to know him either, and that hurt. It pissed her off.
Which is why, with a full head of steam and a stubborn streak inherited from both of her parents, Carys had recently moved out of the Chase family Darkhaven and in with her best friend, Jordana Gates.
Leaving home to get her own place hadn’t gone over well, particularly with her father, Sterling Chase. As the commander of the Order’s presence in Boston, he, along with the Order’s founder, Lucan Thorne, and the other district commanders, were the de facto keepers of the peace between the Breed and mankind. No easy task in good times, let alone the precarious ones they lived in now.
Carys understood her father’s concern for her safety and wellbeing. She only wished he could understand that she was a grown woman with her own life to lead.
Even if that life included a Breed male who chose to make his living in the arena.
All around her now, the spectators chanted their champion’s name. “Rune! Rune! Rune!”
Carys joined in, awed by his domination of the fighting ring even as the woman in her cringed every time fists smashed on flesh and bone, regardless of who was on the receiving end. And she could admit, at least to herself, that being in love with him had made her hope for the day he might decide to climb out of the cage for good.
No one had ever beaten Rune—and more than a few had died trying.
He prowled the cage with fluid motion, naked except for the arena uniform of brown leather breeches and fingerless gloves bristling with titanium spikes. The sharp metal ensured every blow was a spectacle of shredding flesh and breaking bone for the pleasure of the crowd.
Also crafted primarily for the entertainment of the sport’s patrons was the U-shaped steel torc around the fighters’ necks. Each combatant had the option of hitting a mercy button inside the cage, which would deliver a debilitating jolt of electricity to his opponent’s collar, halting the match to afford the weaker fighter a chance to recover before resuming the bout.
Although Rune had been the recipient of countless juicings when he climbed into the ring, he had never stooped to using the mercy button.
Neither did his opponent tonight. Jagger was one of La Notte’s crowd favorites too, a black Breed male whose own record of wins was almost as impressive as Rune’s. The two fighters were friendly outside the arena, but no one would know it to see them now.
Being Breed, Jagger healed from his injuries in seconds. He wheeled on Rune with a deafening roar, plowing forward like a bull on the charge. The contact drove Rune back against the cage. Steel bars groaned, straining under the sudden impact of so much muscle and might. The spectators directly below shrieked and shrank away, but the fight had already moved on.
Now it was Rune on the offense, tossing Jagger’s massive body across the cage.
Game or not, the clash of fists and fangs brought out the savage in just about any Breed male. Jagger got to his feet, his lips peeled back from his sharp teeth on a furious sneer. His dermaglyphs pulsed with violent colors on his dark skin. He rounded on Rune, amber fire blazing from his eyes as he crouched low and prepared to make another bruising charge.
Opposite him in the
cage, Rune stood tall, his massive arms at his sides, his stance deceptively relaxed as he and Jagger circled each other.
Rune’s Breed skin markings churned with raging colors too. His midnight-blue eyes crackled with hot sparks as he studied his opponent. Rune’s fangs were enormous, razor-sharp tips gleaming in the dim lights of the arena. But beneath the sweat-dampened fall of his dark brown hair, his rugged, granite-hewn face was an utter, deadly calm.
This was Rune at his most dangerous.
Carys’s breath stilled as Jagger leapt, catapulting and cartwheeling in a blur of furious motion across the ring. One foot came up at Rune’s face like powerful hammer, so fast, Carys could hardly track its motion.
But Rune had. He grabbed Jagger’s ankle and twisted, dropping the fighter to the floor. Jagger recovered in less than an instant, pivoting on his elbow and sweeping Rune’s legs out from under him with another smooth kick.
The move was swift and elegant, but it opened Jagger up for sudden defeat.
Rune went down, but took Jagger with him, tackling him into an impossible hold on the floor of the cage. Jagger struggled to break loose, but Rune’s spiked knuckles kept the fighter subdued.
Howls and applause thundered through the arena as the clock counted down on the end of the match, with Rune about to claim yet another win.
As Carys cheered his certain victory, she felt a prickle of awareness on the back of her neck. She glanced behind her toward the back of the club. Two of her father’s Breed warriors had just come inside.
Shit.
Dressed in the Order’s black fatigues, Jax and Eli scanned the massive crowd, ignoring the spectacle inside the cage as they sought to locate her. She was getting used to seeing the Order’s babysitting patrol every night, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.
Maybe her father’s patience had finally reached its end. She knew him well enough not to put it past him to send his warriors out to collect her and eventually bring her home. By force if needed.
Ha. Let them try.
As one of the rare few females of the Breed and a daywalker, Carys was every bit as strong as any male of her kind. Stronger than most, given that her mother, Tavia Chase, was a laboratory-created miracle comprised of half-Ancient and half-Breedmate genetics.
But she didn’t need to resort to physical strength to avoid Jax and Eli. Carys had another ability at her disposal—this one inherited from her father.
As she stood among the crowd near the front of the arena, Carys quieted her mind and focused on her surroundings. Gathering and bending the shadows around her, she concealed herself in plain sight. No one would see her so long as she held the shadows close.
She waited, watching the pair of Order warriors stroll deeper into the club to scan the hundreds of humans and Breed packed inside. Carys drifted deeper into the throng, unseen by anyone. Jax and Eli gave up after a few minutes of searching. Carys smiled from within her magic as she watched them finally leave.
Meanwhile, the match in the cage was over. Rune and Jagger had taken off their metal torcs and gloves. They clapped each other on the shoulder, both mopping the blood and sweat from their faces as the announcer declared the winner.
Carys let her shadows fall away then. The hatch on the cage opened to let out the combatants. She raced to meet Rune, shouting his name and applauding with the rest of the throng as her man collected yet another victory.
Rune’s rugged face lit up with private promise when he saw her. The brutal, fearsome fighter stepped out of the cage and caught her around the waist, hauling her to him.
His dark eyes glittered with need he didn’t even try to conceal. Ignoring the cheers and applause that swelled around him, he took her mouth in a possessive kiss.
Then he scooped her up and carried her out of the arena.
CHAPTER 2
Order Headquarters
Washington, D.C.
Lucan Thorne jabbed the disconnect button on his video call with the human politician who’d been chewing his ass for the past half hour. Times like this, he really missed the simplicity of the twentieth century. Back then, an aggravating conversation like the one he’d just had could be punctuated by slamming the phone down and letting the person on the other end know what he really thought about their uninvited opinion.
What he liked even better back then was being able to carry out the Order’s brand of swift, effective justice in private, rather than under the scrutiny of human and Breed government types whose endless demands for meetings and board reviews only served to hamstring his efforts and waste precious time.
Lucan shoved his desk chair back on a muttered curse and began to pace across his study.
“That bad, huh?” His Breedmate, Gabrielle, stood in the open doorway.
“The Global Nations Council has called for a debriefing about the assassinations in Italy earlier this week. Apparently, more than one GNC member has petitioned for my removal from the council.” Lucan crossed the room to meet his beautiful, auburn-haired mate, unable to resist dropping a kiss on her furrowed brow. “Can’t say the council’s blame is misplaced since I’m the one who secretly arranged the meeting between the brother of Italy’s new president and GNC member Byron Walsh.”
“You were only trying to help build an important alliance between two influential members of the human and Breed races. Doesn’t the council realize the Order wants peace as much as anyone?” Gabrielle tilted her head at him as he took her hand and led her out of his study into the hallway. “Nobody could’ve predicted the meeting would be sabotaged. By Walsh’s own son, no less.”
Lucan grunted. “Derek Walsh was only part of a bigger problem. One that’s getting stronger every day the Order allows it to exist.”
“Opus Nostrum,” Gabrielle said quietly.
The name of the deadly cabal had been unheard of until just a few weeks ago, when the group stole experimental UV technology, then attempted to use it for mass murder at a peace summit gala of Breed and human dignitaries. The Order had narrowly thwarted that catastrophe, killing Opus’s leader, Reginald Crowe. But after that very public introduction, and subsequent rumors of chemical and other weapons at their disposal, Opus Nostrum was currently the most feared terror group in the world.
The assassinations of the two high-ranking men earlier this week by a fledgling member of Opus—a member who was also the son of a respected GNC official—would only add fuel to the fire.
And as real a threat as Opus Nostrum was, there was another enemy lurking in the shadows too. One that the Order was only beginning to understand.
For millennia, the Breed had believed they were the only preternatural beings on the planet. Now they had irrefutable proof of another. And this other alien race of immortals calling themselves Atlanteans were apparently plotting a war that would make Opus Nostrum’s efforts seem like child’s play.
To say the Order had its hands full was beyond understatement.
They had to stop Opus Nostrum and eliminate the deeper, hidden threat posed by the Atlanteans, and Lucan had no intention of doing so with one arm tied behind his back by the GNC or any other meddling entity.
Fortunately, the Order had acquired a few helpful leads and unexpected allies in recent days. For each setback and disaster they narrowly averted, it seemed they were given a small glimmer of hope. Which was a damn good thing. Lucan had a feeling they were going to need all the luck they could get.
Absent of luck, he wasn’t opposed to crushing anyone who stood in the Order’s way.
As he and Gabrielle turned a corner toward the headquarters’ conference room, Lucan heard their son, Darion, talking with Gideon and that warrior’s mate, Savannah.
Dare wasn’t officially part of the Order yet, but Lucan had to admit the twenty-one-year-old had proven himself an asset both intellectually and in the heat of battle. Tonight, he and Gideon were chasing down a lead on a Breed male in Ireland with apparent ties to Opus.
Lucan and Gabrielle paused to find Gideon s
eated in front of a wall of computers, with Dare and Savannah poring over reports and schematics on the conference table.
It was a familiar scene that brought back old memories, yet the addition of Darion to the picture made Lucan’s chest swell with pride. Gabrielle squeezed his hand lovingly, no doubt feeling the surge of his emotion through their blood bond.
Lucan cleared his throat and Savannah smiled in greeting. Dare’s face was intense, all of his focus centered on his work as his parents stepped inside the room.
“We tapped in on Riordan yet?” Lucan asked.
Gideon blew out a curse and tossed his ever-present silver shades onto the workstation. He scrubbed his hand over the top of his spiky blond hair. “Aside from grabbing several hours of basically useless security camera footage of traffic in and out of the place, I haven’t been able to find a way into the core of his network yet. The son of a bitch lives in a bloody twelfth-century castle, for fuck’s sake. He’s got some kind of communications equipment in there, but the connection protocol is closed. I haven’t been able to exploit any kind up uplink.”
Lucan stared. “Which means?”
Darion was the first one to answer. “Unless we can find a crack in Riordan’s communication network, we’re at a dead end on hacking into his location.”
There was a time—as recently as a few weeks ago—that Lucan would have been surprised, even shocked, at the depth of Darion’s knowledge and the breadth of his interests. Add to that his tactical and combat skills, perfected under the tutelage of Tegan, and once Darion was seasoned in the field, he would have few equals. Although Lucan and his son had clashed more than once on the subject of his readiness as a true member of the Order, those concerns were becoming a thing of the past.
“I take it those are Nova’s sketches of the Riordan place.” Lucan gestured to the hand-drawn blueprints spread out across the conference table.
Darion nodded. “As best she as could recall. Nova said she hasn’t been near her family Darkhaven for more than ten years.”