Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [906]
“I do not have a weapon,” the voice growled back in reply. “I am a civilian.”
Tegan scoffed. “Not today. Show yourself.”
Dragos’s associate came out of the darkness as instructed, but only barely. Dressed in tailored gray pants and a black cashmere sweater, he looked to be more of a boardroom strategist than a military tactician. Then again, from what the Order had seen in the past of Dragos’s handpicked associates, he seemed to recruit his lieutenants based on pedigree and aptitude for corruption more than anything else.
Hands held up in surrender, Dragos’s man hung back near the shadows of the mine shaft. He moved with slow deliberation, his carefully cultured expression not quite able to mask his fear as his eyes took stock of the five Breed warriors holding him in their killing sights.
“Who are you?” Tegan demanded. “What’s your name?”
He said nothing, but his gaze seemed to slide almost in-discernibly to his side.
“Is there anyone else left inside?” Tegan asked. “Where is the Ancient? Where is Dragos?”
The male took a hesitant step forward. “I would need some kind of assurances from the Order,” he hedged. And there went that quick, telling dart of his eyes again. “I would require sanctuar—”
A gunshot exploded out of the darkness, cutting short his words as it blew away a sizable chunk of the vampire’s head.
“Assassin,” Hunter snarled at the same sharp instant, but his warning was eclipsed by more gunfire blasting out of the shadows.
Dragos’s lieutenant—the vampire who might have given the Order their best lead on their enemy—was collapsed on the floor in a pulpy, boneless heap. Kade and the four other warriors opened fire on the black maw of the mine shaft, peppering the area with rounds as they dodged the gunfire coming back at them.
“Take cover!” Tegan shouted as the incoming bullets showed no sign of stopping.
Kade and Brock dived into the nearest chamber in the corridor of the shaft, Tegan right behind them. Chase and Hunter took posts farther up on the other side of the passageway, returning fire on the relentless hail of bullets that ripped out of the darkness.
“Brock,” Tegan said, his fangs gleaming in the darkness. “Throw some boom down the corridor. We’ll shoot it from here and set it off.”
Brock put down his gun and grabbed a pack of C-4 from his satchel. Working quickly, he stuffed a blasting cap and a small detonator into the pale cake. When it was done, he gave Tegan a nod. “Gotta hit this shit pretty square. If we miss the embedded detonator, we get no spark.”
Kade caught the warrior’s dark gaze. “No spark, no boom.”
“Right.”
“Toss it,” Tegan said.
Brock moved to the opening of the door. He threw the C-4 in a high arc, and as it disappeared into the shadows of the mine shaft, the three of them opened fire. It was hard to tell if they’d hit the cake, until a spark cracked brightly in the darkness. Then the material exploded with a shuddering blast.
A billowing cloud of smoke and pulverized rubble pushed forward like a tsunami, blowing bits of concrete and choking dust into the room where Kade, Brock, and Tegan had taken cover.
And then, charging through the blinding wave of debris, came the Gen One assassin.
He was nothing more than a blur of motion and momentum, all of it crashing forward like a cannonball. Tegan leapt out to intercept him, and soon both Gen One males were engulfed in a deadly fight. The darkness and the churning cloud of debris swallowed them up as the struggle intensified, weapons clanging against the stone floor, fists crunching against flesh and bone.
The sudden, pungent scent of blood rose up from the confusion of movement.
A roar of fury—Tegan’s low bellow of rage … then silence.
Someone found a light switch and flicked it on. Fluorescent tubes lit the corridor in a hazy fog of bluish-white light.
And there was Tegan, his thigh bloodied from a deep wound, his serrated titanium knife slipped between the assassin’s thick neck and the black polymer collar that ringed it. “Slowly, now,” he cautioned Dragos