Midnight Rising

Dylan tumbled in with her abductor right behind her. Disoriented and thoroughly confused, she was too stunned to form a single word as he brought the heavy trailer door down with a hard thump and enclosed them in darkness.

The truck's engine roared to life, and with a sharp squeal of tires, the vehicle took off with its cargo.

Back in Boston, it was nearly five A.M . and the last of the Order's warriors were heading in from their night patrols. Lucan, Tegan, and Dante - the mated ones, like Gideon, with females awaiting their return to the compound - had been in for about an hour already. Sterling Chase, the ex - Darkhaven Enforcement Agent who'd joined up with the Order last year and had proven to be a formidable - enthusiastically lethal - addition to the group, was present and accounted for too.

Now, as the three remaining members of the Order filed in, Gideon wasn't surprised to find Nikolai bringing up the rear. Although he was the youngest of the warriors, Niko was also the most relentless fighter Gideon had ever seen. An adrenaline junkie and vicious combatant, the Russian-born vampire never called it a night until dawn was creeping over the horizon, forcing him off the streets.

And when it came to high-octane weaponry, Niko was an absolute demon.

Tonight, as the black-clad warrior with the golden-blond hair and glacial blue eyes sauntered in behind the two newest members of the cadre, Kade and Brock, Gideon noted that he was armed with some of his latest creations. A nasty-looking 9mm semiauto with a clip full of titanium hollowpoint rounds rode at Niko's hip, and a laser-sighted sniper rifle tricked out with the same custom ammo was slung from a strap over his shoulder.

Even from behind the glass enclosure of the compound's tech lab, Gideon could smell fresh death on the warrior. Not human, as the Breed in general tried to maintain as peaceful a cohabitation as possible with their Homo sapiens cousins. They fed from humans in order to survive, but it was rare that a vampire killed his Host. It was a matter of simple logic after all. No sense wiping out your sole food source, or, for that matter, exposing yourself as a mortal threat to that food source and encouraging them to wipe you out instead.

But there was a small, splintered percentage of the vampire nation that didn't give a damn for solid logic. Rogues - vampires who'd become addicted to blood and gone feral, living only to feed that addiction - were the ones who found themselves in the crosshairs of the Order's lethal brand of justice.

The Order had been combating the problematic minority within the Breed since the Middle Ages, a task that had given the warriors a reputation as merciless killers among the vampire nation at large. Not that Gideon or any of his brethren were looking for accolades or public adoration. They had a grim job to do, and they did it very well.

Gideon met the three returning warriors in the corridor outside the lab, wrinkling his nose at the Rogue stench that Nikolai carried in with him.

"I take it the hunting was decent tonight."

Niko grinned. "It ended on a good note at any rate. Tracked and smoked a suckhead out of the city after he attacked a woman walking her dog in Beacon Hill."

"My man here tracked the Rogue thirty-five miles - on foot," Brock added, giving a roll of his dark brown eyes. "Had the Rover gassed up and waiting on the corner. We could have run the son of a bitch to the ground in three minutes flat, but Jackie Joyner decides to hoof it instead."

Niko chuckled. "Hey, might as well make it interesting. Besides, it was a slow night up until then."

"Been a slow month," Kade replied, his tone not complaining so much as stating fact.

Things around the city had become considerably quieter since last February, when the Order had finally killed the vampire responsible for a rash of violence in and around Boston. Marek was no more, and following his death the warriors had been hunting down and eliminating all those who'd served him. As far as that went, Marek's human Minions were no problem - the blood-depleted mind slaves could not survive without their Master; wherever they were, they simply stopped breathing at the same time he did, and dropped dead of what would appear to be abrupt, yet perfectly natural, causes.

Marek's personal retinue of Rogues, on the other hand, were not as accommodating as their human counterparts. The blood-addicted vampires who'd been recruited, and sometimes forced, under Marek's command as his bodyguards and lieutenants were now left to their own misrule. Without Marek around to keep them in line and provide the victims required to slake their Bloodlust, the Rogue vampires had dispersed into the surrounding human populations to hunt like the insatiable predators they were.

Since the winter, the Order had smoked ten of the suckheads between Boston and Marek's last known headquarters in the Berkshires region two hours to the west. Eleven Rogues, counting the one Niko took out tonight.

And although what Kade had said about the current state of quiet was true, Gideon had lived long enough to know that a calm like the one they knew now wasn't meant to last. It was often just the lull preceding a hellish storm.

Given what the Order had uncovered on that Bohemian mountain last February, there was little question that a storm of epic proportions was on the rise. An ancient evil had been sleeping in the crypt on that mountain - a vampire unlike any in existence today. Now that powerful, alien creature was loose somewhere, and the Order's newest, most critical mission was to find it and destroy it before its terror was unleashed on the world.

That job was going to prove a lot harder if the secret realm of the Breed - and the escalating trouble within it - were suddenly exposed to humankind by way of a curious reporter who'd somehow wandered into the middle of all this.

"Got an interesting call from Prague tonight," Gideon said. "Rio's back on grid."

Nikolai's tawny brows crashed together. "He's not in Spain? When did he get back to Prague?"

"Doesn't sound like he ever left. He ran into some trouble there, in the form of an American reporter. She knows about the cave. She's been inside the Ancient's hibernation chamber. Took a bunch of pictures too, evidently."

"What the fuck? When did all this go down?"

"I don't have all the details yet. Rio's working on getting the situation secured. He and the woman are on their way to Reichen's place in Berlin as we speak. He's going to report in once he arrives so we can determine how to best contain this potential disaster."

"Shit." Brock exhaled, running a hand over his dark brow. "Rio's actually still breathing, eh? Gotta say, I'm surprised. Since he's been AWOL for so long, I kind of expected he wasn't coming back, you know what I'm saying? Edgy guy like that, seemed to me like a prime candidate to off himself."

"Maybe he should have," Kade put in, chuckling. "I mean, hell, we've got Chase and Niko to contend with already. Does the Order really need another raving lunatic in the ranks?"

Nikolai sprang on the other warrior like a viper. There was no warning, no hint that Niko was going to grab Kade's throat in his hand and slam the big male up against the wall of the corridor. He was seething with defensive anger as he held Kade in a near death grip.

"Jesus Christ!" Kade hissed, clearly as shocked as anyone else by the unexpected reaction. "It was just a joke, man!"

Nikolai snarled. "Do you see me laughing? Do I look like I'm fucking laughing?"

Kade's sharp silver eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything else to provoke him.

"I could give a damn what you say about me," Niko growled, "but if you know what's good for you, lay the hell off Rio."

Gideon might have guessed this wasn't about Kade unintentionally insulting Nikolai. It was about Niko's friendship with Rio. The two warriors had been as close as true brothers in the time before the warehouse explosion that left Rio scarred and broken. Afterward, it was Niko who made sure Rio fed, Niko who dragged Rio's ass out of the infirmary to train in the compound's weapons facility as soon as the wounded warrior was able to stand up.

It had been Nikolai who argued the most vehemently every time Rio announced that he was too far gone to be useful and he was pulling out of the Order. In the nearly five months that Rio had been currently off grid, not a week passed that Niko didn't ask if there had been any word from him.

"Niko, damn, buddy," Brock said. "Ease up."

The huge black warrior moved in, looking like he was about to peel him off Kade, but Gideon held him back with a look. Although Nikolai relaxed his grip, his anger was still a palpable force filling the hallway.

"You don't know dick about Rio," he told Kade. "That warrior has more honor than the both of us combined. So this is the last time I want to hear you talking shit about him. Understand?"

Kade nodded tightly. "Yeah. Like I said, it was just a damn joke. I didn't mean any offense."

Nikolai stared at him for a long moment, then stalked away in silence.

Chapter Eight

Dawn was inching up over the horizon as the delivery truck from Prague wheeled into a gated, heavily secured lakefront estate on the outskirts of Berlin.

The Darkhaven was held by a Breed vampire named Andreas Reichen, a civilian, but also a trusted ally of the Order since he'd assisted with the discovery of the mountain cave a few months ago. Rio had only met him briefly that past February, but the German greeted him like an old friend as he came around to the back of the truck and opened the trailer door.

"Welcome," he said, then sent an anxious glance up at the pinkening sky overhead. "You made excellent time."

The male was dressed in an impeccably tailored suit and a pristinely pressed white shirt that lay unbuttoned at the throat. With his thick chestnut hair loose around his shoulders, the perfect waves setting off his striking, angular features, Reichen looked like he'd just come off a photo shoot for a men's designer ad.

One dark brow lifted slightly as he took in Rio's negligent appearance, but he remained the consummate gentleman. With a nod, Reichen offered his hand in greeting as Rio climbed out of the truck. "No trouble along the way, I hope?"

"None." Rio gave a brief shake of the vampire's hand.

"We were stopped at the border into Germany, but they didn't search the truck."

"For the right price, they don't," Reichen said, smiling pleasantly. He glanced behind Rio into the darkened trailer, to where Dylan Alexander lay on the floor. She was curled up on her side and resting peacefully, her head cushioned by the lumpy edge of her backpack. "Tranced, I take it?"

Rio nodded. He'd put her out about an hour into the trip, when her endless, probing questions and the swaying motion of the truck had been too much for him to deal with. Even though he'd fed earlier that night, his body was still in need of nourishment and not yet operating on all cylinders. To say nothing of his other problems.

He had spent most of the five-plus-hour drive fighting off nausea and blackout - a weakness he wasn't about to risk exposing to the woman he'd just forcibly abducted. Better that she spend the duration of the trip in a light, psychically induced doze than have her make some desperate bid to overpower him and attempt an escape while they were in transit.

"She's attractive," Reichen said, a casual observation that didn't even begin to do the female justice. "Why don't you take her inside. I have a room prepared for her upstairs. One for you as well. Third floor, end of the hall to the right."

Reichen waved off Rio's murmured thanks. "You are welcome to stay as long as you require, of course. Anything you need, just ask. I'll be along with her things as soon as I compensate my Czech friend for doing this favor on such short notice."

As the German went around to the front of the truck to pay the driver, Rio climbed back inside to retrieve his sleeping captive. She stirred lightly as he lifted her into his arms and carried her outside. He walked briskly toward the mansion and up the short climb of steps that led into the opulent foyer.

None of the Darkhaven's residents were around, even though it wouldn't have been unusual to see some of the civilian vampires or their female mates who lived together as a community in the vast estate. Reichen had probably made sure the house would be quiet for Rio's arrival, devoid of curious eyes and ears. Not to mention, protecting those same civilians from being identified by someone like Dylan Alexander.

A goddamn reporter.

Rio's jaw clamped tight at the thought of the damage the woman in his arms could do. Just a stroke of her pen - or keyboard, as it were - and she could put this Darkhaven and the hundred or so others like it in Europe and the United States in terrible danger. Persecution, subjugation, and, ultimately, wholesale annihilation were certain outcomes if humankind were to have proof of vampires living among them. Aside from some assorted, mostly incorrect, vampire folklore widely dismissed as fiction by modern man, the Breed had kept itself hidden from discovery for thousands of years. It was the only way they'd survived this long.

But now, through his own carelessness - his weakness - Rio might have undone all of that in one reckless moment. He had to make it right, no matter what it might take to stanch the bleeding wound this woman's story could cause.

Rio carried her through the empty foyer and up the massive staircase at the center of the elegant mansion. At the third floor landing, he followed the walnut-paneled hallway to the end of the line and opened the guest room door on his right. It was dim inside; like any Darkhaven residence, the windows were outfitted with electronic, UV-blocking shades to shut out deadly sunlight. Rio brought Dylan into the room and placed her on the large four-poster bed.

She didn't look so dangerous like this, coming to rest there in the middle of the plush, silk-covered mattress. She looked innocent, almost angelic in her silence, her skin as clear as milk except for the spatter of tiny freckles that marched across her cheeks and the bridge of her small nose. Her long red hair fell around her head and shoulders like a halo of fire. Rio couldn't resist touching one of the molten strands that had fallen over her creamy cheek. The tendril rasped against his callused fingers, which looked so dark and unclean against the coppery silk.