Darkness Rises (Immortal Guardians) (16 page)

 

 

Silence fell. Krysta stared up at Étienne.

Awkward
.

He smiled. “Not really.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“You projected that one.”

“I don’t know how that works and am too tired to try to figure it out.” Fatigue clawed at her, leaving her weary enough not to put up any more of a fight if he read her thoughts.

Étienne closed the distance between them. “Let’s try to get some sleep.” Resting a hand on her lower back, he guided her into a hallway. “You can have my sister Lisette’s room. I never know when she’ll drop in, so I always keep it ready for her.”

She nodded, full of ambivalence.

On the one hand, she was relieved that he hadn’t asked her to sleep with him. She may have known him, in a manner of speaking, for a couple of weeks, but she didn’t
know
him. Not really.

Nor did she fully trust him yet.

On the other hand, it
had
been nice, falling asleep beside him earlier. And this had been a hell of a day. Or night. Or whatever. Not only had her beliefs concerning the paranormal world and its inhabitants been rocked off of its foundations, she had killed two men. And she had nearly been killed herself by a whole host of others.
Men
not vampires.

And she had lost everything. From the sounds of things, the little house she and Sean rented had been completely trashed. The contents destroyed along with it. How were they going to bounce back from this? They lived paycheck to paycheck.

And what would happen to her when she went before all those immortals at the big meeting ahead of them? What would they do to her?

Étienne paused before an open door that led down into a basement. “After you.”

“This is so surreal,” she muttered as she tromped down the stairs.

It wasn’t what she expected. She had thought it would be cold and dark and damp. Instead, the basement looked remarkably like the first floor, just without windows.

Again, Étienne placed a hand at her back and guided her to the first door on the right. “You and Lisette are of a similar size, so please feel free to delve into her closet and borrow whatever you will.”

“Thank you.” When he reached in and turned on the light, she studied the room.

It was pretty. Expensive hotel room pretty. She would have thought anyone two hundred years old would furnish their home with big, bulky antiques. But this room, and the rest of the house, was quite modern. Clean. Almost minimalist, with none of the froufrou stuff that professionally designed rooms featured in magazines all seemed to boast.

“Is it to your liking?” Étienne asked, brow furrowed. He actually seemed worried that it may not appeal to her.

“It’s the nicest place I’ve ever stayed,” she admitted.

He smiled. “I hope you’ll be comfortable. I’ll be across the hall if you should need anything.”

She nodded, suddenly feeling lost. “Thank you.”

Étienne took her hand and drew her into a hug, one she very much needed in that moment. “Don’t lie awake all day, trying to figure everything out. There will be time enough for that tonight.”

Easier said than done, but she’d try.

He drew back. Reaching up, he curled his hand into a loose fist and stroked her face with the backs of his fingers.

“Are you messing with my head, Étienne?” she asked.

“No.”

“You aren’t brainwashing me and tricking me into believing you’re a good guy?”

“I’m not powerful enough to brainwash you. I can search others’ thoughts. I can catch yours every once in awhile. But I can’t alter them. The elders can, but not I.”

“Then why do I feel like I’ve known you for a lot longer than I have?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I feel the same way.” Lowering his head, he touched his lips to hers.

Her heartbeat picked up, surely drawing his notice. It really sucked that he knew how much he affected her while
she
was left in the dark.

He captured one of her hands and pressed it to his chest.

Beneath the rubber and all of that hard muscle, his heart raced as swiftly as her own.

When he raised his head, his brown eyes bore a faint amber glow. “This has all been as much of a surprise to me as it has been to you.”

She nodded, incapable of doing anything else.

“No one has ever tempted me more.”

She swallowed.

“Right across the hall,” he murmured, backing away from her.

“Good night,” she said, surprised she could sound so normal when such upheaval teemed within her. “Or rather day.”

“Sleep well.”

Passing through the darkened doorway across the hall, he flicked on the light and closed the door.

Though he needed a good healing sleep, Étienne found rest elusive.

Chris hadn’t skimped on the security detail. A dozen men stood sentry along the house’s exterior. Three dozen more patrolled the grounds and manned the perimeter.

Étienne had made sure his home rested on enough private land that he wouldn’t be able to hear his neighbors’ thoughts and
they
wouldn’t be able to see him return home covered with bloodstains, so it was a rather large perimeter.

All the guards were very focused and spoke little, but Étienne’s sharp ears still picked up their movements, murmured comments, and periodic radio checks.

And then there was Krysta.

He hadn’t lied when he had told her no one had ever tempted him more.

He had once told Sarah that he loved strong women.

Krysta was
very
strong.

Krysta was amazing. Krysta hunted vampires and had killed two men to protect him.

Krysta set his body on fire.

It had been hard as hell to back away from her and leave her to seek sleep in Lisette’s room. But she didn’t trust him fully. Asking him if he had brainwashed her had been ample proof of that. And she had been through hell during the past twenty-four hours.

Étienne regretted that the mercenaries, whoever the hell they were, had destroyed her home, and fully intended to make them pay. But he was very happy to have her here in
his
home and to have this chance to win her trust.

Was this how Richart had felt about Jenna? Why he had pursued her even when he thought a happy ending impossible for the two of them?

The door across the hallway opened.

Étienne’s heart ceased beating for several long moments, then began to slam against his ribs.

Was Krysta coming to him?

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t hoped she would.

Alas, no. Nearly silent footsteps took her down the hallway and up the stairs.

Tossing back the covers, he rose and donned the sweatpants he’d laid out in case Krysta needed him for anything. (Somehow he didn’t think creeping up behind her naked would send the right message.) Then he opened his door and went in search of her.

He found her in the living room.

Why was it, he wondered as he paused in the doorway to admire her, that pajamas made men look geeky, yet made women look incredibly alluring?

The pajamas Krysta wore were made of some silky burgundy material. Having been raised in far different times, Lisette sometimes complained about constantly having to
dress like a man
. To compensate, she wore feminine things like this when she wasn’t hunting.

Her back to him, Krysta leaned forward over a chair to peer through the window, out into bright sunlight.

Étienne, too, had been born in a different time. He wasn’t like men today. He didn’t need to see a woman’s breasts shoved up to her neck in a push-up bra and spilling out of her blouse to take notice. He didn’t need skirts so short the women who wore them couldn’t bend over without showing their underwear or exposing their vaginas. He didn’t need pants cut so low that thongs and butt cracks peeked out at him.

If it was out there, it was out there. No surprises. No anticipation. No fun.

Étienne was more titillated by what he
couldn’t
see. He liked being kept guessing. He liked imagining what that silky material might conceal, how it would feel to peel each layer back and reveal what no one else could see. What no one else had even glimpsed.

The pajama pants covered Krysta from hips to ankles. Her feet, smaller than he had imagined, were bare. The long sleeves of the top had been rolled back almost to her elbows. Her hair was loose and rumpled.

Utterly delicious.

“What are you looking at?” he asked softly.

Gasping, she spun around. “You startled me.”

“Forgive me. I didn’t intend to.”

“I was just looking at the guards. They seem very formidable.”

“They take their job very seriously and will give their lives to protect us, should such become necessary.”

“They’re that devoted to you?”

He strolled into the room, uncomfortable with the question. It made the guards seem subservient. “I wouldn’t put it that way. It’s more that we’re brothers in arms. Soldiers all fighting a common enemy. It bonds us, even if we don’t know each other.”

She glanced back at the window. “You don’t know those guys?”

He stopped beside her and, avoiding the golden rays of sunshine that poured through the filmy curtains, peered outside.

“Careful,” she said, touching his arm and nudging him farther away from the light.

He smiled, warmed by her concern. “It’s all right. I won’t burst into flames. I’ll just sunburn in record time.”

“Will sunlight kill vampires?”

“Yes. Vampires can’t tolerate any level of sunlight. Immortals have greater tolerance to it because of our advanced DNA, but younger ones like me are still vulnerable.”

“Oh.”

He studied the faces of as many guards as he could see from this perspective. “I believe I’ve seen one or two of these men before, but have never spoken with them.”

“And yet they would die for you.”

He nodded. “It isn’t a one-way street. They know we risk our lives every night, hunting and destroying vampires who would prey upon them. There was a night not long ago when Richart, Lisette, and I, along with the other immortals you will meet later, risked our lives battling not vampires, but humans who would have killed or tortured every man you see out there.” He drew back from the window. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

She shook her head. “I always have trouble sleeping in a new place.”

“And the past few hours have been difficult.”

“Yes. So much has happened.” She shrugged. “I’m still having trouble processing it all. My mind is racing. And I keep obsessing over the stupidest things. Like how Sean and I are going to explain the crater in the living room floor and the bullet holes Sheldon said riddled every wall to our landlord.”

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll take care of it. We’re very good at cleaning up our messes.” He touched her shoulder, the silky material cool beneath his fingers, and guided her toward the sofa. “What you need right now is something that will take your mind off of everything so you can relax.” She sat down at his urging, the V-neck of her shirt giving him the briefest glimpse of shadowy cleavage. “And what
I
need is something to take my mind off of you in those pajamas.”

She smiled and fingered the neckline. “They really aren’t my style. I’m more of a sleep-shirt kind of girl.”

He groaned and sank onto his haunches to examine the DVDs lining the shelves beneath the large flat-screen TV. “Don’t put that image in my head.”

 

 

Krysta stared at his broad, muscled back and narrow waist, bare and totally drool-worthy, as was his chest when he faced her. “Tit for tat. I lost my ability to concentrate as soon as I turned and saw you wearing nothing but those sweatpants.”

Surely, he had heard her heart’s crazy antics.

He laughed.

She liked his laugh. Smooth and deep.

He chose a DVD and slipped it into the player. Rising, he grabbed the remote and joined her on the sofa.

And he didn’t leave any space between them. His hip pressed against hers as he draped his arm across the back cushion. “I keep telling myself to keep my distance, but . . .”

She nodded, leaning into his side. “I’m too tired to worry about it right now.” She smiled at the television.
Monk
?

He nodded. “It’s smart. It’s funny. And it advocates true love.”

“It’s a tragic love, though. His wife is dead.”

“Don’t most love affairs end tragically?” he asked, frowning at the screen.

“I don’t know. Your brother seems pretty happy.”

His face lightened. “Yes, he does. I didn’t see that coming.”

“If you tell me you’re psychic, too—”

He laughed. “I’m not.” Still smiling, he glanced down at her. “I didn’t see you coming either.”

Manic butterflies invaded her stomach as she licked lips suddenly gone dry.

The amber glow returned to his eyes as he followed the motion with his gaze.

The TV brightened with the menu for
Monk
.

He looked toward it.

Krysta sighed. She had been sure he was going to kiss her.

“I thought I would be pushing my luck if I did,” he murmured.

“Oh.” She didn’t even care that he was reading her thoughts again.

“I also thought you might need a little distance.”

She fought the urge to laugh. Their sides were glued together and his arm now rested across her shoulders, his fingers toying with her hair.

His lips twitched as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Note I said I thought
you
needed some distance. Tonight I find myself needing the opposite, so this was my compromise.”

She smiled. “I’ll take it.”

The show began.

“You didn’t say why
you
were up,” she mentioned. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

“No. Too many bodies nearby, moving and murmuring. I’m used to it only being Cam and I and sometimes my siblings.”

“Ah.”

A moment passed.

“And,” he continued, “I found myself obsessing over a thought.”

“What thought?”

“That, had I not arrived when I did last night, you likely would have died.”

“At Duke?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t refute it. He was right. Even had the mercenaries not shown up with guns blazing, she couldn’t have defeated that many vampires on her own.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked.

“That I could have died?” she countered. “Of course. A
lot
. But I know every time I go out hunting that my death is a possible outcome.”

“Then why the hell do you do it?”

She thought a moment. “Because it needs to be done. Because it’s worth the risk. Because I promised myself a long time ago that I would kill every vampire on the planet or die trying.”

“It’s personal.”

“Yes.”

He said nothing, just returned his gaze to the screen.

“You aren’t going to call me a fool or demand I stop?”

“You aren’t a fool. I understand a need for vengeance.”

“And the other?” she asked.

“I believe I already tried to convince you to stop hunting. I don’t have the energy tonight to bang my head against a brick wall.”

She laughed. “To be continued, then?”

He smiled. “To be continued.”

She tore her gaze away from his handsome profile and stared at the screen. “Have you seen this episode?”

He nodded. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“I saw it once a few years ago, but can’t remember how the husband did it. Don’t tell me.”

He curled his hand over her shoulder and drew her a little closer. “I won’t.”

Resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, she drew her legs up onto the sofa and relaxed against him.

 

 

Étienne heard the front door open and close and didn’t bother to open his eyes. Cam had been coming and going throughout the afternoon, as quietly as a mortal could, so as not to disturb the duo slumbering on the sofa.

Krysta would have to watch the
Monk
episode they had begun another time. She had fallen asleep only fifteen minutes into it.

Unwinding at last himself, Étienne had lain back on the sofa, drawn his legs up, and managed to spoon his body around her without landing them both on the floor.

Damn, it felt good. Even better than holding her hand had as they had slept beside each other at her house.

He had really needed this. The more he thought about what had happened at Duke, the more panicked he felt. That many vampires would have defeated her and ended her reign as North Carolina’s—if not the world’s—most successful mortal vampire hunter. And, if by some miracle they hadn’t, the mercenaries who had come later would have likely thought her an immortal and tranqed her with a dose that would’ve been lethal to her.

Either way, she would have died.

Tightening his hold, he buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent.

Something sharp pricked his neck just beneath his chin.

He stilled, opened his eyes.

Sean stood over them, his face set in stone, with one of Étienne’s own daggers in his hand, angled to slit Étienne’s throat.

Easy
, Étienne spoke into his mind.

Sean’s eyes widened. “How did you do that?”

“And you thought feeling her up would help?”

He sighed.
If we’re going to do the keep-your-hands-off-my-sister thing, let me put her to bed first.
Her
bed
, he stressed before Sean could suggest otherwise.

Sean withdrew the blade.

In one fluid motion, Etienne rose with Krysta in his arms. She stirred, but didn’t awaken.

Sean frowned. “What did you do to her? She’s usually a light sleeper.”

“Nothing. She’s just exhausted. Too little sleep and too many adrenaline rushes.”

Frowning, Sean followed him down to Lisette’s room, where Étienne laid Krysta on the bed and drew the covers up to her chin.

He turned to her brother and abandoned all hopes of getting any sleep today. “Let’s return to the living room, and I’ll bring you up to speed.”

 

 

Krysta was a nervous wreck on the ride to the meeting.

Cam drove while Sean sat in the passenger seat, scowling out the window.