Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [403]
It was fear of that last individual that set the director to pacing his office now. Somehow, against everything he knew to be right, he’d let himself be recruited into a collusion that had ended with Petrov Odolf ’s hideous suffering and eventual death. Kuhn had been promised a similar personal experience if he didn’t prove useful to his new, lethal acquaintance.
Maybe he would be wise to slip out before the situation escalated any further. It was perilously close to dawn, after all, and he really had no wish to sit around waiting for more trouble to land on his doorstep.
Too late, he thought, not a second later.
Kuhn wasn’t sure precisely when he felt the first stir of the air around him, but as he turned to face the closed doors of his office, he found himself staring into cold, deadly green eyes.
“Guten morgen, Herr Kuhn.” The warrior’s smile was chilling. “I hear we’ve had a few problems here in your little Bedlam.”
Kuhn inched back behind his desk. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”
In a fluid, instant motion, the warrior leaped across the room and landed in a crouch on top of the desk. “Petrov Odolf is dead. That slip your mind?”
“No,” Kuhn replied, realizing he had just as much to fear from this male as he did the one who killed Odolf. “It was unfortunate, but he was very ill. Worse than I suspected.”
The director carefully slid his hand along under the edge of his desk, searching for the button that would sound a silent alarm. He’d hardly had the thought before a sharp blade lifted his chin.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to see the body.”
“What for?”
“So I will know whether or not you need to die.”
“Oh, God!” Kuhn wailed. “Please don’t hurt me! I had no choice—I swear to you!”
“You swear.”
The answering scoff was crisp with contempt. The dagger at Kuhn’s throat eased up, only to be replaced by the clamp of hard fingers. There was a heat that traveled through him from that punishing connection—a draining sense of invasion that buzzed like gnats in his brain.
The cold green eyes boring into his wide gaze went narrow. “You lying son of a bitch. You and Marek—”
The crack of Kuhn’s office door being smashed off its hinges split the air. There was a sudden report of gunfire, staccato blasts that came from no less than four armed security guards as they poured inside and opened fire on Kuhn’s assailant.
The warrior roared as the guards hit their mark all at once. As soon as the grip on Kuhn’s throat began to ease, he backed away—as far as he could get out of the massive vampire’s reach. He watched in stricken relief as the warrior slumped, then rolled off the desk onto the floor.
A wordless snarl curled out of the slack mouth, the ruthless eyes rolling back into the warrior’s skull. Kuhn gathered his courage now and approached the fallen beast. He stared down at the collection of tranquilizer darts that protruded from his body.
“Are you all right, sir?” one of the guards asked.
“Yes,” Kuhn replied, even though he was still trembling from the altercation. “That will be all for now. I don’t want this incident recorded in any way, do you understand? As far as anyone here is concerned, it didn’t happen. I will see that the intruder is removed from the premises.”
When the guards had gone, Heinrich Kuhn took out the cell phone he’d been given and dialed the sole number that was programmed into the device. When the low voice answered on the other end, Kuhn told him, “Something interesting just arrived. Where would you like me to deliver it?”
Lucan knew something was wrong even before the night gave way to dawn. Now, a couple of hours toward noon,