Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [77]
Lucan had torn open that guy’s throat.
With his teeth.
He’d put his mouth to the wound and drank the blood that gushed out over his face.
He was a monster, like something out of a nightmare. Like those same fiends who attacked and killed the punker outside the nightclub—something that seemed so far in her past now that she could hardly believe it happened.
But it had, just as tonight’s slaying had happened, too: this time with Lucan at the center of it.
Gabrielle had gone to Megan’s out of desperation, needing to be somewhere familiar, yet too afraid to go to her own apartment in case Lucan’s friend might be waiting for her there. She had told Megan and her boyfriend, Ray, how she’d been accosted on the street by the psycho from the police station. She’d relayed the facts that he’d also been spying on her a few days earlier, and when he’d confronted her tonight, he did so with a gun in his hand.
She wasn’t sure why she’d left Lucan entirely out of the story, crucial as his presence was. She supposed it was partly because regardless of his methods, he had killed tonight in order to protect her, and she felt a need to offer some of the same consideration to him.
Even if he was a vampire.
God, it sounded ridiculous even to think it.
“Gab, honey. You need to report what happened. The guy sounds seriously unhinged. The police need to hear about this, they need to get him off the street. Ray and I can take you. We’ll go downtown and find your detective friend—”
“No.” Gabrielle shook her head, setting her cold tea onto the sofa table with only the slightest quiver in her hands. “I don’t want to go anywhere tonight. Please, Megan? I just need to rest for a little while. I’m so tired.”
Megan took Gabrielle’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Okay. I’ll get you a pillow and another blanket. You don’t have to go anywhere until you’re ready, sweetie. I’m just so glad you’re all right.”
“You were fortunate to get away,” Ray interjected as Megan picked up Gabrielle’s cup and carried it into the kitchen before heading to a linen closet down the hall. “Someone else might not be so lucky. Now, I’m off duty, and you’re Meg’s friend, so I’m not gonna force the issue, but you have a responsibility not to let this guy get away with what he did tonight.”
“He’s not going to hurt anyone else,” Gabrielle whispered. And even though they were all talking about the man who’d pulled a gun on her, she couldn’t help thinking that they could have been saying the same things about Lucan.
He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten back to the compound, or even how long he’d been there. Based on the sweat he’d worked up in the weapons room of the training facility, he had to guess it to be hours.
Lucan hadn’t bothered with the lights. His eyes were killing him enough in the dark, anyway. All he needed was the burn of his muscles as he forced them to work, to regain control of his body as his system slowly came down from a high that had been perilously close to Bloodlust.
Lucan reached for one of the daggers on the counter beside him, his fingers testing the razor-sharp edge as he turned back toward the alleylike corridor of the practice range. He could sense, more than see, the target at the end, and when he let the blade loose into the dark, he knew the hard thump meant a dead-center hit.
“Hell, yeah,” he murmured, his voice still rough, his fangs not yet receded.
His aim had much improved. He hadn’t been a hair off a killing strike in the past several tries with the blades. He wasn’t about to quit until he had shaken off the last of the effects of his feeding. That could take a while yet, he thought, still feeling ill from the near overdose of blood he’d consumed.
Lucan strode down the length of the practice range to retrieve his weapon from the target. He pulled the dagger free, noting with satisfaction the deep set of the wound he would have delivered had the target been a Rogue or Minion, and not a practice dummy.
As he turned to start back for another round,