Midnight Awakening(15)

“Everything good in there, T?” Niko quipped. “You need backup or anything? Bag of marshmallows to roast over that little campfire you just started?”

“It’s handled.”

“No shit,” Niko replied, he and the other two warriors watching sparks erupt from the burning warehouse, a plume of fire reaching high into the night sky.

Tegan strode past them as cool as could be, giving neither excuse nor explanation. But then it was always that way with him. He was the ghost you never saw coming, death breathing down your neck before you even realized you were in the crosshairs.

He was never less than thorough in combat, but the annihilation he’d delivered to the Crimson lab was beyond anything Niko had ever seen the warrior do before. Based on the intel he had on this place, it was probably manned by half a dozen Rogues—all of them dead at Tegan’s hand and a building that would be nothing but smoldering rubble in a couple of hours. If Niko didn’t know better, he’d be tempted to call it personal.

“Glad we could be of assistance to you, man,” Niko called after him, exhaling a wry curse.

“Damn, that dude is cold,” Brock remarked as Tegan disappeared into the darkness and the scattering flurry of snow.

“He’s ice,” Niko said, glad as hell that the Gen One warrior was on their side. “Come on, let’s roll before the place starts swarming with humans.”





Tegan walked back into the city alone, the scream of sirens wailing in the distance behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know that a fiery glow lit the night down near the Chelsea. He smirked into the darkness. No matter how much water the Revere FD threw on the old warehouse, there would be no saving it. Tegan had made sure there would be nothing left once the smoke finally cleared. He’d wanted the place torched, with a ferocity he hadn’t felt in years.

Shit, it had been more than years since he’d known the kind of savagery that ran through his veins tonight. Centuries was more like it.

And the kicker was, it had felt damned good.

Tegan flexed his hands in the wintry bite of the evening air. He was still able to feel the pain he’d delivered on the Rogues tonight—the delicious horror that swamped the hearts of each one he had killed in the Crimson lab. He’d indulged in their anguish as the titanium sped through their blood, cooking them from the inside out.

Where he’d long ago learned to disengage his own emotions, the psychic power he possessed was beyond his control. Like all of the Breed, he had, in addition to the vampiric traits of his father, certain unique extrasensory abilities passed down from the human female who bore him. For Tegan, he had only to brush against another individual—be it human or vampire—and he knew what they were feeling. Touch someone, and he absorbed the emotions into himself, feeding from the connection like a leech to an open wound.

The gift had been both weapon and curse to him throughout his life; now it was his private vice. He used it as infrequently as possible, but when he did, it was with deliberate, sadistic relish. Better that he siphon enjoyment out of others’ pain and fear than let his own feelings rise up to rule him as they had before.

But tonight he’d felt the kindling of some inner satisfaction as he dealt death to the Rogues and the couple of Minions who’d evidently been recruited to continue the manufacture of Crimson. And after none of them were left breathing, the concrete floor of the old warehouse running red with blood and stinking with the cellular meltdown of the Rogues he’d offed with blades and bullets, Tegan had needed something more.

For reasons he had no interest in examining even now, he had stood in the center of the carnage he’d wrought, wanting nothing less than complete obliteration.

Fire and cinder, smoldering rubble. He had wanted the Crimson lab erased from existence, nothing but a scar of black ash on the empty lot where it stood.

And whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, he knew that his want for destruction had more than a passing connection to Elise. It had been her face he’d seen in his mind as he lit the place up. It had been the thought of her grief that made him savor each of the Rogue deaths he delivered tonight.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, Tegan headed against the wind and cut down a South End side alley. He wasn’t sure where he was going, although he supposed he should have known. He recognized Elise’s shitty neighborhood even before he turned onto the street that would eventually dump him onto her block.

Tegan still couldn’t fathom her living in such squalid conditions. As the widow of a high-ranking Breed government official, Elise had to be more than financially set. She could have lived in any of the Darkhavens, wanting for nothing, whether or not she chose to take a new mate. That she had chosen to leave her old life to exist topside among basic humankind was surprising. She’d seemed so sheltered and fragile when he met her some four months ago. He couldn’t have been more shocked to find her earlier tonight, awash in Minion blood and armed like one of the Order.