King of Midnight, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
KING OF MIDNIGHT
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
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
EPILOGUE
FROM THE AUTHOR
KING OF MIDNIGHT
A Midnight Breed Novel
Book 18
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR
LARA ADRIAN
© 2022 Lara Adrian, LLC
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (v1)
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KING OF MIDNIGHT
A Midnight Breed Novel
The line between darkness and light is drawn in blood, and the stakes have never been higher. Nothing less than the fate of the world rests in the hands of the Order, and in one Breed warrior's quest to thaw the heart of an immortal queen in the final novel of Lara Adrian's New York Times and #1 international bestselling Midnight Breed vampire romance series.
As a Breed warrior and the son of the Order’s founder and commander, Darion Thorne is an exacting tactician and a lethal combatant, yet nothing can prepare him for the catastrophic act that forces him to step to the helm of the Order as its leader. With their adversaries growing bolder and more brazen with every strike, Darion knows he must take the war to them before it’s too late to stop them at all.
Yet of all their enemies, the one most dangerous for Darion is the beautiful, yet volatile, Selene, Queen of the Atlanteans. Determined to recover four powerful crystals stolen from her ages ago, Selene will go to any lengths to have them. When that goal puts one of the Order’s own in the crosshairs, she finds herself locked in a personal battle with Darion, a Breed warrior she knows she should despise, yet who stirs an unbidden desire within her.
With the battle lines drawn between them and a diabolical evil on the rise, can Darion and Selene put aside their mistrust in time to save all they hold dear, or will they see the world plunge into a darkness that has no end?
“A well-written, action-packed series that is just getting better with age.”
—Fiction Vixen
CHAPTER 1
Rogues.
The night was thick with them.
Through the stench of smoke and fire choking the ruined streets of Washington, D.C.’s Georgetown district, blood-addicted Breed males ran like packs of rabid dogs set loose on a terrified human public. Their feral howls rang out over the other disturbing sounds that filled the night. Wailing sirens. Explosions. Bone-grating screams from the random fools who hadn’t heeded the mandatory sunset curfew of the past several nights and were now paying the price.
Fueled by Bloodlust, Rogues knew only their unending thirst and the need to quench it. They roamed, hunted, brutalized . . . slaughtered. No one, human or Breed, was safe in their path, and in their wake they left only mass destruction and rivers of spilled blood.
Darion Thorne’s city wasn’t the only one facing this recent outbreak of violence and death. Like a disease spreading on the wind, the Rogues that had been attacking major human populations all over the world of late showed no sign of slowing down.
No, it was only getting worse.
Each twilight seemed to multiply the Rogues’ numbers by scores.
The attacks had become the Order’s most immediate concern, not that the warriors lacked for problems. They had enemies closing in on all sides lately, each one nothing short of an existential threat--not only for the members of the Order, but for every living creature on the planet.
This explosion of Rogue violence across the globe was an annoyance they damned well didn’t need.
Darion’s lips curled away from his own fangs on a curse as he drove one of his large titanium blades into the chest of a Breed male he’d just chased down an alley.
The Rogue was on his back, dressed in what might have been an expensive suit at one point but now hung off him in shredded rags, his once-white shirt stained and foul with the evidence of his recent kills.
Darion held him down, pinned to the cracked pavement by the weight of his boot and the cold, razor-sharp metal that now impaled the Rogue through the chest. The male thrashed and snarled, out of his mind with Bloodlust. His eyes glowed fiery amber, radiating up at Darion like hot coals.
The murder in those transformed eyes turned to shock as the titanium of Darion’s blade met the Rogue’s diseased bloodstream and began to devour the male from the inside. His death would be quick, but not easy. The awful sound that erupted out of his foaming maw was nothing less than pure, primal agony.
Darion didn’t take any satisfaction in this kill, or the others he’d already delivered tonight. There were still hours to go until daybreak. Before their patrol was over, he and his Order teammates would be crusted in spilled blood and gore.
Tomorrow night it would start all over again.
Bad enough that D.C. and other major cities were becoming infested with Rogues. What made it even worse was the fact that the secretive terror group behind the problem, Opus Nostrum, were likely laughing their craven asses off at the havoc they were creating.
Armed with a narcotic that could turn even the most docile member of the Breed into a blood-fevered monster, Opus had only been toying with Red Dragon for months. Amusing themselves with its power. Testing its capabilities as a potential weapon. Refining it, evidently.
Now, it seemed their gloves had come off.
Darion removed his blade from the dying male and stepped away. No reason to linger. Titanium meant a swift, certain end for a Rogue. Even one nick of a titanium blade spelled almost instant death.
Darion considered it a mercy to end the male. Far better than to be made to suffer the unquenchable, incurable thirst and insanity of Bloodlust.
As he strode back up the narrow alleyway, a deep, cool voice sounded in the earpiece of his comm unit. “Got a situation over on M Street. Anyone close?”
Darion’s team captain, Nathan, spoke over the wail of sirens in the background of wherever he was fighting in the city. “Five human civilians are trapped inside a jewelry store. They’ve got Rogues swarming. Apparently, one of them is bleeding from a window he smashed.”
A low scoff answered from another teammate. Darion knew the wry sound. It belonged to Rafe, his lifelong friend and comrade on patrol across town. “So much for the mandate that everyone stay off the street for the night.”
“Fucking looters,” snarled Jax, the fourth member of the unit. “Let the Rogues have them.”
“They’re kids,” Nathan grimly pointed out. “Teens and younger, according to the hysterical girl who called it in a minute ago. Not that it should matter.”
Jax only grunted in answer. With his cold stealth and penchant for throwing stars, he had never been the warmest male. But since his best friend and fellow warrior, Elijah, had been killed on duty by an Opus-instigated ambush several nights ago, Jax seemed almost glacial.
It was Eli’s death that had left a vacancy on Nathan’s team. Darion eagerly stepped in to fill it, despite hating the reason he was given the opportunity. He was determined not to let down his teammates--or his father, the Order’s founder and leader, Lucan Thorne.
Darion had waited for a chance to serve as a warrior from the time he was a boy. He’d trained and prepared for it, even when it seemed he’d never be given the chance.
“I’m close to the area,” he said, his long blade in hand and his feet already moving swiftly in the direction of the trouble. “I’m on my way now.”
He didn’t wait for confirmation. Summoning the full velocity of his Breed genetics, he flashed across the distance in a matter of seconds.
Just as Nathan described, the scene outside the jewelry store was going from bad to worse. The big window in front was smashed, jagged glass framing an opening that looked barely large enough to fit any of the five kids cowered and screaming inside, never mind the trio of hulking Rogues looking for a way to get in.
To the human youths’ credit, they’d been quick-thinking enough to create a barricade between themselves and the broken
Not even another second, in fact.
One of the big males lowered his shoulder and slammed into the makeshift barricade. The display case exploded inward from the impact, splintered wood and twisted metal flying in all directions inside the small store.
The Rogue pushed forward, his two companions crowding behind him.
“Fuck.” Darion rushed across the darkened street, his long blade gripped in one hand and ready for combat, his other hand moving for the pistol holstered on his weapons belt.
He wasted no time.
With the humans shrieking and stumbling over one another in their haste to get out of the first Rogue’s swinging reach, Darion rammed his blade between the shoulders of the other one currently blocking a clear path inside. The male dropped to his knees on a howl. Darion stopped the third with a titanium hollowpoint up-close-and-personal to the side of the Rogue’s skull.
Both large males went down, convulsing on the pavement as the titanium began its work.
Darion shoved inside the opening in the smashed window. The five humans were hysterical, scrambling in all directions. The Rogue grabbed for one of them, latching on to the loose jacket of a lanky preteen whose torn sleeve was sticky and dark with blood. The kid who’d injured himself breaking into the store.
The coppery tang of fresh human red cells made Darion’s own gaze ignite with amber sparks. His fangs sliced out of his gums, an instinctual response he shook off with a low snarl.
The kid spotted him behind the attacking Rogue, Darion’s face wild with combat rage and his bloodied blade gleaming. The human let out an even higher-pitched scream.
The Rogue paused, his big head swiveling toward his shoulder to see who might be coming after his prey.
Darion struck, shoving his blade under the Rogue’s jaw. The fist holding on to the hollering human went lax. The kid just stood there, gaping as his attacker dropped to the floor in a heap of melting flesh and bone.
Darion scowled at the group of shell-shocked young humans. “I need to get you out of here. Now.”
But it was already too late for that.
All of the ruckus--not to mention the pungent scent of the skinny kid’s bleeding wound--was drawing more interest from other predators in the area.
Darion wheeled around, the group of humans behind him. Outside the wrecked storefront, low, animalistic grunts and growls drew closer. Several pairs of glowing eyes pierced the darkness as a new pack of Rogues seemed to materialize out of the darkness.
Five of them, fangs bared, gazes wild with the madness of Bloodlust.
In addition to the long blade Darion held in his right hand, he also had his semiautomatic full of titanium rounds in the other. He held his fire. A blast of gun shots would likely only bring reinforcements for the group of Rogues surrounding the open storefront. No doubt the single shot he’d fired a few moments ago had helped to alert these males to the area.
Stowing the pistol behind his back, he skewered the first Rogue that charged at him. The big male stopped short, but his four other companions surged forward as one.
Darion’s blade was a blur of motion. Slicing and stabbing, he hacked down two of the Rogues but a third raked thick, jagged nails into his shoulder. Enormous fangs snapped in his face, blood and foul-smelling drool dripping off the Rogue’s chin.
Darion avoided the bite and drove his blade deep, kicking the deadweight to the floor as still another Rogue tried to go through him to get to the defenseless human prey at his back.
He brought his blade up for another strike, only to see the remaining Rogue in front of him freeze in mid-lunge. The huge body tipped forward, blood oozing like acid from its nostrils and gaping mouth.
The dying Rogue fell away and there was Rafe, grinning as he cleaned off his curved dagger and sheathed it on his weapons belt. The handsome face that turned heads everywhere the warrior went was smudged with ash and grime and drying blood.
“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”
Darion smirked at his friend and comrade. “I had everything under control.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Guess I shouldn’t have wondered if you might need backup.” Rafe glanced at the seven mounds of sizzling remains Darion had created before his wry gaze swung back. “Showoff.”
Darion let the brotherly jab go unanswered. He was still in combat mode, all too aware that they likely had only moments before more Rogues came sniffing around. “We need to get the humans somewhere safe. The bleeder’s going to need a ride to a hospital if the Rogues don’t get him first.”
The five youths had gone silent now, their faces ashen, eyes unblinking as they huddled together in the back of the sacked jewelry store.
Rafe nodded. “I’ve already called in for an evac.”
As he spoke, an engine roared outside as a black SUV screeched to a hard stop on the pavement. The driver’s side window slid down, revealing Rafe’s beautiful mate, Devony.
The Breed female’s long dark hair was scraped back into a sleek ponytail. Like Rafe and Darion, she wore black combat gear and her face bore evidence of the battles she’d fought tonight as an active member of the patrol team. As one of a handful of daywalkers in existence--and a skilled warrior in her own right--Devony had quickly proven to be a valuable asset to the Order.
She also had Rafe wrapped around her finger, something that amused Darion to no end.
“You two going to stand around shooting the shit all night?” Devony called from inside the vehicle. “Round up the civilians and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Rafe grinned. “Damn, I love it when she’s bossy. Gets me hot every time.”
Darion grunted, shaking his head. “That’s a mental picture I could’ve lived without.”
“Says the one who’s got a hard-on for nothing less than an actual fucking immortal queen,” Rafe shot back, chuckling now. “Don’t even try to say you haven’t noticed how jaw-droppingly gorgeous Selene is--assuming you can look past her icy personality and homicidal leanings. Not to mention a ten-thousand-year age gap, give or take.”
Darion felt his scowl darken. “The Atlantean queen is our enemy. She’s made that clear on numerous occasions.” In fact, in a contest between Selene, Opus Nostrum, and the newer threat that had exploded out of the Deadlands several nights ago, Darion wasn’t sure which posed the greater risk to the entire planet and its inhabitants. To say nothing of himself and every member of the Order. “It doesn’t matter how beautiful Selene is. If anything, that only makes her more dangerous.”
“So, you have noticed, then.”
As much as he may want to deny it, yeah, he’d noticed how attractive she was. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous and then some. He had only seen Selene once, and not even in person. Ever since she’d overridden the Order’s command center technology to deliver an impromptu, drive-by threat to their existence, Darion had thought of little else.
He’d also spent an inappropriate amount of time wondering if the icy platinum blonde immortal had ever met a man she couldn’t freeze out with that temper of hers.
Darion glowered at his friend. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping to round up the humans? Or are you waiting for Devony to snap your slack ass to attention?”
“Looks like I’ve hit a nerve.” Rafe winked, cuffing him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s evac these stupid kids before more Rogues start to swarm the place.”
They hustled the young humans out to the SUV and situated them inside. Rafe held the open passenger door, ready to jump in beside Devony at the wheel.
“You coming, Dare?”
He shook his head. The mention of the Atlanteans and their beautiful, volatile queen, paired with the reminder of all the chaos and violence that Opus Nostrum had dealt the Order in recent years, lit a fire in Darion’s already simmering veins. He wanted the madness to stop--no matter the price.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice, to make that happen.
All around him now, distant howls, screams, and sirens filled the night.
