Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [355]
And yet…
She stood on the wide marble steps that led up to safety, and her hand refused to reach for the door. The fear she’d felt moments ago in the boathouse had muted into something else—something that still unsettled her in many ways, but the sharp edge of it was gone.
She’d felt anxious, apprehensive in those passionate few minutes with Tegan. All too aware of his hunger for her, and stunned to realize how his hunger enflamed her. Now, having fled him like a coward, she felt…empty.
Elise backed away from the elegant manor house.
This wasn’t what she wanted.
As soon as her soles hit the cold grass, she lifted her damp skirt and dashed back around the corner of the mansion. She cut across the long yard and gardens, breathless as she reached the dark brick-and-timber building near the water. She threw open the door and ran up the stairs to the loft, ready to let Tegan take whatever he wanted from her.
But the boathouse was empty.
He was already gone.
Tegan hoofed it back into the city, moving with the preternatural speed that made the Breed all but invisible to human eyes. He was glad for the long run from Reichen’s lakeshore Darkhaven. He was glad for the chill snap in the air that helped clear his head after the near catastrophe with Elise.
But he was glad most of all for the thick clot of humanity that was prowling the darkened streets of Lichtenberg in Berlin’s depressed Eastern District. Row upon row of twenty-story concrete high-rise eyesores towered over this former East Berlin sector, which only added to the general malaise of the place. There were few tourists here at this hour of night. Only grim-faced locals hurrying from late-shift jobs or the grimy brewhauses that catered to the working-class poor—folks who weren’t leaving the GDR in this lifetime, wall or no wall.
Tegan scanned his surroundings with a hunter’s eye. He was hardwired to look for Rogues, but he could tell at a glance there were no suckheads in the vicinity. While Boston had been practically overrun with the Bloodlusting bastards courtesy of Marek’s recent reappearance, Berlin and most other major cities had been reporting only minimal Rogue activity for years.
And damn if that didn’t suck ass.
Because right now, Tegan would have welcomed a good hard fight with his enemies—several, if he had his choice about it.
He had to force his aggression to heel as he stalked down one of the desolate streets that would lead him deeper into the district. He watched for his night’s prey, ignoring a pair of human women who gave him the once-over as they stumbled out of a bar and into his path. He walked around them with an annoyed snarl.
He wouldn’t feed from a female.
He hadn’t in all this time…not since Sorcha’s death.
It was his choice, something he’d adopted as self-imposed punishment for failing the innocent girl who had been so wrong in trusting him to keep her safe from his enemies. But somewhere along the way, Tegan’s aversion to drinking from females, let alone binding himself to another Breedmate, had become an act of desperation.
It had become an act of plain survival.
His hungers ran too deep. And he knew from experience how easy it was to lose control. He’d tasted Bloodlust once before, and he could never allow himself to get close to it again.
That he’d been so tempted by Elise tonight had rattled him hard. He’d never wanted to take a female—to his mouth or to his bed—in a long span of time that had somehow become centuries. He’d been alone by his own will, bonded to nothing but his mission to wipe out the Rogues.
But now…?
“Fuck,” he ground out savagely from between clamped teeth and fangs.
Now he was about two seconds away from hauling