Break the Day Read online

  She smiled wistfully, picturing him in the room that was filled with so many of his cherished treasures. His books and collectibles, his chessboard where he used to patiently teach her and her brother about logic and strategy and the patience required to win a war. Across from the big desk hung a painted portrait of her beautiful, dark-haired mother, a piece he’d had commissioned especially for that very spot on his study wall so he could see his beloved mate even when their work kept them apart.

  Devony’s gaze sought out another picture, the framed family photograph on the edge of her father’s old desk. It greeted her in this room each morning, a reminder of those better times.

  Devony pressed her fingertip to her lips, then touched each of the three smiling Breed faces that surrounded her in the photo. Her handsome, ginger-haired father, Roland Winters. Her daywalker mother, Camilla. And her older brother, Harrison, who’d also been born a daywalker, just like Devony.

  They were all the family she’d had. She let her fingers rest on the cold glass that covered them.

  “I love you,” she whispered in the emptiness of the room.

  Then she slid her hand beneath the edge of the desk and pushed the button that was concealed on the underside.

  One of the enormous built-in bookcases opened silently on its hinges. Behind it was a room her father had designed as a security feature of the large home. The hidden space had been constructed during the time not long after the Breed’s existence had been revealed to mankind. Back when wars between the races had been a terrifying new normal.

  Daytime raids on Breed households by humans afraid of their night-dwelling neighbors were epidemic. Retaliations were brutal and blood-soaked.

  Those wars that followed First Dawn had been mostly extinguished in the twenty years that passed since then, thanks in no small part to the work of the Order. The law enforcement officers of the Joint Urban Security Taskforce Initiative Squad around the world had helped too.

  But hatred was a difficult disease to wipe out completely. It festered in silence, invading wherever it found the slightest purchase.

  It waited for the opportunity to spread.

  Waited for a new carrier to come along and give it fresh life.

  And now it had found one in the terrorist group calling themselves Opus Nostrum.

  Devony walked inside the former panic room and let her gaze travel over the maps and photos and dossiers that covered each of the four walls. Red strings attached to pins connected some of those individuals to others on the wall. Drug dealers, gangbangers, petty criminals. Corporation heads, politicians, community leaders. A few weeks ago, she’d added photos of Ricardo Cruz, Wayne Fishbaugh, Vincent Axelrod, and Eugene “Ocho” Snyder.

  Many of the faces she’d added to the walls now had a large “X” drawn on them.

  Before this was over, she expected to eliminate numerous more.

  Because this room served a new purpose now.

  No longer a place for panic, but one for cold and steady justice.

  It was aiding in a new war—a very personal one.

  Devony took a sip of her tea as her gaze moved along the images and connecting lines she’d established between groups and individuals. Eventually, she would find the link that led her to Opus. One day, she would pay them back for what they had taken from her.

  Until then, she had to have patience.

  And she was not about to let the former warrior from the Order knock her off that course.

  CHAPTER 5

  Devony rode her Triumph into the parking lot behind Snyder’s Exotic Auto in Roxbury.

  At 10 PM on a weekend, Ocho’s garage had been closed for several hours but a dim light glowed from the small windows above the two bays out front. Cruz’s dark gray Lambo was sitting in the nearly empty lot next to the rest of the group’s vehicles.

  They were all here ahead of her. That didn’t exactly ease the niggle of anxiety that had been troubling her from the moment she’d received Cruz’s text, instructing her to come for a meeting at the gang’s unofficial headquarters.

  All day, she’d been plagued with paranoia about her standing in the group.

  It was bad enough that she nearly revealed herself to them at Asylum. Then, at Judah LaSalle’s party, she had practically bolted from the place after her unnerving run-in with Rafe on the terrace.

  Had anyone noticed her extreme discomfiture around the Breed male?

  Had she given them any reason to suspect why he made her so nervous?

  Or, worse, had he voiced his suspicions about her to Fish or the others after she was gone?

  “Get a grip,” she muttered to herself under her breath. If she had been compromised, she would just have to deal with that swiftly and on her own terms.

  She hadn’t yet found solid evidence that Cruz and his friends were in league with Opus Nostrum, but they were far from choir boys. If things went south with them here tonight, she had no problem counting them as collateral damage in her quest for answers . . . and for retribution.

  Devony killed the Triumph’s growling engine and swung off the seat. With her helmet secured on the back of the bike, she headed for the rear entrance of the garage and went inside.

  The door was unlocked, the low rumble of conversation and intermittent chuckles leading her to the manager’s office where Cruz, Ocho, Axel, and Fish were seated.

  She met their inquisitive stares with cool, measured confidence. “Looks like I’m late.”

  Fish carefully shook his shaggy head. He was wearing sunglasses and looked to be nursing a protracted hangover. “I just rolled in five minutes ago. What happened to you last night, Brinks? One second you were chatting it up with Rafe, the next you were gone.”

  “Gone?” Devony shrugged as if she hardly recalled. “No, I hung around for a while. Not that any of you would’ve noticed the way you three were sucking down the drinks and drooling over the women.”

  Axel chortled. “You jealous, Brinks?”

  “Excuse me?”

  From behind his metal desk, Ocho smirked. “If you prefer chicks, that’s cool. It’d be even cooler if you let us watch sometime.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender and it took all she had not to reach out and snap off the three fingers he had left on his right hand.

  Fish snickered. “Rafe told us what happened between you two last night.”

  Oh, shit. The statement made some of the blood drain from her face. She had no fear of these human men, but confusion and dread had her pulse hammering in her temples. “He told you what, exactly?”

  “Said he made a move on you,” Axel said. “He told us you shut him down hard.”

  Fish grinned. “Actually, what he said was that he thought you were gonna try to kick his ass, and that’s about the time I walked up. I saw you were pissed at him, but damn, girl. Are you suicidal too? You couldn’t touch him if you tried. He’s a fucking Breed.”

  So, they didn’t know anything. Thank God.

  They didn’t know, because Rafe kept their conversation to himself.

  She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or even more deeply concerned. Why would he lie for her? And what did he think he could demand in return? All she knew was, she didn’t want to find out.

  Devony kept her silence as the three men continued making jokes and laughing.

  Cruz didn’t seem to share their amusement. His text to her had seemed all business, and his sober attitude now only confirmed it. “You three boneheads about done? I didn’t bring you all here for shits and giggles.”

  “What’s going on?” Devony asked him.

  “We’ve got a gig on the docket for tonight. A big one.” He pulled a brochure out of the pocket of his leather jacket and held it out to her.

  She stared at the advertisement for an upcoming Impressionist art exhibit on loan to one of the city’s museums. Nearly a dozen masterpieces soon to be on public display, each one easily worth millions. But
not in the hands of a bunch of thieves like Cruz and his gang.

  She glanced up at him. “You can’t be serious. Even if you get your hands on them, they’ll be worthless to you. You’ll never be able to fence them.”

  His mouth quirked in the center of his goatee. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”

  “What about security? We’ll never even make it inside, let alone get close to the art.” She shook her head, not wanting to be a party to this at all. “There’ll be guards posted around the clock. Alarms on the doors and windows, even on the exhibits.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said. “Got all that covered too.”

  “Covered how?”

  “Rafe,” Fish said, looking at her over the tops of his dark sunglasses. “Turns out, he’s looking for work. Lucky for us.”

  “Lucky?” She gaped at Fish, then swung her disbelief in Cruz’s direction. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  But he wasn’t. His face was pure resolve. “You said it yourself, we’ll never get inside unless we can take care of the guards and the security systems. We need the vampire to get it done.”

  No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

  Her stomach sank, cold and leaden. All her hopes of keeping Rafe at a safe distance—not only for her personal goals, but for her state of mind—were evaporating by the second.

  “He’s a Breed warrior, Cruz. Are you forgetting that until recently he was part of the Order?”

  “I haven’t forgotten that for a minute.”

  She pushed the brochure back at him. “I don’t like any of this. Have any of you even stopped to ask yourself why he’s hanging around? He just shows up in the right place at the right time, and now you open the door and invite him in?”

  “Ain’t that what we did with you, Brinks?” Ocho asked, a note of challenge in his voice.

  She sank her teeth into her tongue to keep from letting him goad her. That’s all she needed right now, to lose a grip on her emotions and show them her fangs or the heat of her Breed irises.

  Cruz got up from his chair to face her. “You don’t make the rules around here. I do. And before you go thinking I’m stupid, think again. I’m not about to trust a goddamn vampire without testing him first.”

  There was a threat in his airless voice, in the way he practically spat the word ‘vampire.’ Devony knew Cruz was dangerous. Right now, the menace rolling off him was lethal.

  “What do you mean, you’re going to test him?”

  He merely smiled. “Go get your toolbox, Brinks. You’re gonna need it. I’m putting you to work tonight too.”

  It was a dismissal without so many words. A reminder that she was not yet part of them, only an asset they intended to use just as long as it suited them. When she was no longer needed, she would be out. She knew that before, but tonight the message was loud and clear. Which meant she needed to ramp up her efforts to find out what, if any, their connection was to Opus.

  She wouldn’t be able to do that once Rafe was in the picture.

  A selfish part of her hoped that he would fail whatever test Cruz had in mind for him. It was the only way she could continue her work on the inside without discovery.

  Devony left Cruz and the others behind in Ocho’s office and went out to the parking lot to get her safecracking tools from the lockbox on her bike.

  Being Breed, she didn’t need drills or magnets or other implements in order to break into a safe. All she needed was the power of her mind. But they could never know that, so she’d faked her way through her first job with the gang several weeks ago and never looked back.

  Overhead in the moonlit parking lot, storm clouds bunched sooty against the black night sky. In the distance, she heard the low rumble of thunder. Except it wasn’t the weather vibrating all the way into her boots now.

  It was him.

  Rafe, roaring up on his BMW like a shadow in the darkness.

  He was the last thing she needed to deal with right now.

  She tried to hurry collecting her kit from her bike but there was no avoiding him. As he entered the gravel lot, she felt his intense eyes on her like warm hands moving over her body. A shiver that had nothing to do with the autumn nip in the air shuddered through her as she glanced his way and their gazes collided.

  Heat arrowed through her, uninvited.

  Ocho and the guys thought she had no use for men. She only wished that were true as she watched Rafe roll toward her now.

  It didn’t help that he was as handsome as Adonis. His dark blond hair was a wild tangle from the ride, the lack of helmet only making his thick mane look even more untamed and luxurious as it danced around his impossibly broad shoulders. Irrationally, her fingers itched with the urge to find out if the tousled waves were as soft as they looked.

  His hair wasn’t even his best feature. Every inch of him was powerful and immense, pure male perfection that was barely contained beneath his black shirt and leather jacket. Dark denim clung to his muscular legs, which were spread wide to accommodate the bulky body of his motorcycle. Desire coiled inside her and a sudden vision of him, naked and magnificent, invaded her senses before she could stop it.

  Bloody hell. What had gotten into her?

  Devony pivoted away from him as he slowed to a stop next to her. Her fingers were usually nimble and unerring. With awareness of him sending a dangerous arousal through her senses, she was all thumbs, fumbling to retrieve the compact pack that held her tools.

  Behind her, the BMW’s motor quieted, then stopped. The leather seat creaked softly as Rafe got off it and his heavy boots hit the gravel as light as a cat.

  “Looks like a storm’s on the way.”

  She nearly groaned in agreement. Doing her best to tamp down her body’s reaction to this male, she determinedly left him at her back as she continued struggling to unfasten the snaps and bungee on her toolkit.

  “Need some help with that?”

  He reached around her and the heat of the near-contact felt like an open flame to her heightened senses. “Leave it,” she bit off without looking at him. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

  Amber sparks tinged her vision. Not good. The spike of her irritation was too sharp. She had to contain herself around him.

  She’d already given him enough cause to suspect she was hiding her true nature. She couldn’t afford to confirm it to him now. Not when Cruz was practically rolling out the red carpet for him to be part of the gang.

  “I see you’re still upset with me from last night,” he murmured. “I want you to know, I didn’t tell them your secret.”

  Even though she already knew that, hearing him say the words was jolting. She continued working furiously on her gear. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Really?” He scoffed under his breath. “That’s how you want to play this?”

  He was standing too close, crowding her against her bike. Finally, her impatience hit its limit. With a pulse of mental power, she freed the last cord holding her pack of tools and yanked the kit free. She held it against her like a shield as she pivoted around to face Rafe.

  “We done here?”

  “No,” he said grimly. “I think you and I are just getting started.”

  “Like hell we are.” She stepped past him but didn’t get far. His hand wrapped firmly around her arm, the same way he’d taken hold of her at the party last night. “Let go of me. Now.”

  He shook his head. “Not until we talk. We can either do it here right now, or inside, in front of everyone else.”

  She glared. “Are you trying to threaten me?”

  “Just trying to get to the truth. You’re not what you’re pretending to be.”

  “I don’t think you are, either.”

  His handsome face remained impassive, but he didn’t deny her accusation. And his grasp on her arm went a bit tighter. She tested his hold, confident she could break free if she really wanted to, but not without proving his point.

  His eyes searched her
face before moving lower. “What are you hiding under your long-sleeved turtlenecks and barbed-wire attitude?”

  Devony’s pulse raced. She braced herself for fury or violence, but instead his deep voice was gentling, almost soothing. So was the dark-lashed gaze that lifted back up to her face.

  “I know you’re not human, no matter how much you want to pretend you are. I’ll bet anything that underneath all these concealing clothes, your soft skin is covered in Breed dermaglyphs. Am I right?”

  A strangled sound escaped her throat. “You’re crazy.”

  If he had snarled at her or treated her with even a trace of brutality, she would have fought him with everything she had. Instead, his low, quiet tone and penetrating eyes called to something deep inside her.

  A preternatural connection.

  A longing to have someone she could trust.

  A yearning to feel that she wasn’t all alone in the world.

  Things she often dreamed could be hers one day . . . before everything she had was ripped away from her.

  She shook her head, reminded of where she’d come from and how far she still had to go.

  “Take your hands off me.”

  He held her gaze. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “Okay. You’re wrong.”

  A scoff curled his lip and those incredible aquamarine eyes flashed with a crackle of amber heat. He moved closer, leaving less than an inch to separate them. The pointed tips of his fangs gleamed in the moonlight. “Now, try to tell me I’m wrong without lying about it.”

  “Damn you, vampire. I said you’re wro—”

  His mouth came down on hers without any warning. Firm, forceful, a total shock to her system. But his lips were infinitely soft, his kiss moving from power to possession.

  Devony melted under the tender assault. She wanted to pull away. She wanted to fight him.

  God knew, she wanted to deny everything she was feeling.

  Desire.

  Hunger.

  A marrow-deep need that rocked her to her core.

  That need ignited her blood like flame to tinder. She couldn’t hold it back. Every cell in her body lit up, sending fire into her veins. Her fangs erupted from her gums. Underneath her clothes, her glyphs came to life, pulsing like living tattoos on her skin.