Darkness Rises (Immortal Guardians) (22 page)

Damn it!
She shifted to the side, far enough away not to hamper his swing.

“Kill them!” the first vampire snarled.

Étienne raised one of his swords and pointed it at them almost like a teacher singling out a student for behaving badly. “Gentlemen, I suggest you slow your roll.” Over his shoulder, he murmured, “That’s a saying, isn’t it?”

It was kind of hard to be miffed at him when he made her want to laugh. “Yes.” Was he trying to use modern slang to make himself seem younger to her after their little conversation?

He focused once more on the vampires. “We have some information that might interest you.”

They responded with a lot of posturing and spewing of epithets.

“Human mercenaries are hunting you,” Étienne went on doggedly. “They want to capture you, torture you to learn about the virus and your abilities, then kill you.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” one blurted.

“It’s bullshit is what it is,” another answered.

So clever, that one.

“Yeah, since when do immortals want to help vampires?”

Étienne sighed. “Since any information the mercenaries gain from torturing
you
can be used against
us
. These humans are enemies of both of us. If we work together . . .”

Weapons still at the ready, Krysta glanced at him when he trailed off.

The vampires shifted and exchanged confused looks. At least those who weren’t twitching with the need to attack.

“You know what?” Étienne said finally. “This is pointless. Every vampire here is so insane they’re making my head hurt.” He swung his swords with a flourish and met her gaze. “Now it’s on.”

He blurred, shooting forward with incredible speed. Blood sprayed as carotid arteries sprang leaks in the wake of his blades. Two vampires swung their weapons wildly, then sank to their knees, hands grasping their throats and trying futilely to staunch the flow of their life’s blood. A third engaged Étienne, the battling duo blurring and zipping around like the Tazmanian Devil.

The two remaining vamps faced Krysta with evil smiles. Their orange auras streaked toward her a second before their forms leapt forward. She swung her blades, scoring hits that sparked snarls of fury. And retaliation.

She began a slow trek backward as she swung where their auras directed her. Her thigh stung as one of their blades cut through her clothing and hit flesh. Then her side. Her hip. Her swings and thrusts neither ceased nor slowed.

Something large flew over her head and hit the brick wall to her right hard enough to shower them with dust. The vampire Étienne fought?

One of her opponents slowed and stumbled, dropping the bowie he had swung wildly. Blood poured from his wrist and neck.

About freaking time! It usually didn’t take her that long to find the arteries. She was off her game tonight.

The other vampire jerked backward, then hit the wall beside the other one.

Étienne was on him so fast she couldn’t see exactly what he did. But when he stilled and stepped back, the blades of his swords dripped crimson liquid and the vamp began to shrivel up.

Breathing hard, Krysta lowered her weapons.

Étienne turned to her, eyes glowing a vibrant amber. Ruby droplets speckled his face and glistened on his clothing. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and smiled. “We rock!”

Some of the tension left his shoulders. Shaking his head, he wiped his blades on his coat and sheathed them. “Where are you hurt?”

“What makes you think I’m hurt?” She didn’t want to admit it. If he knew she was injured every time she hunted, he might refuse to hunt with her again in an attempt to protect her and . . .

Well, she didn’t know what would happen next. She’d like to think she would just go back to hunting on her own, but doubted Étienne or the elder immortals would let her.

That galled a little.

Or a lot.

“I can smell your blood,” he said, closing the distance between them. “And you’re favoring one side.”

Thwarted again by his acute senses and attention to detail.

Since she couldn’t refute it, she settled for making nonsensical grumbly noises as she wiped her own blades clean and sheathed them.

“Krysta.”

“It’s just a few cuts.”

“Where?”

“My left thigh, my left side, and my right hip.”

His jaw clenched. Leaning down, he swept her into his arms. Though he was careful not to touch any of her wounds, it still hurt.

“I can walk,” she insisted between teeth gritted against the pain.

“You wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

The world around her blurred. A strong breeze whipped through her hair, tugging it across her face.

When everything came back into focus and her hair fell away, she discovered they stood on top of a building down the street.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said I couldn’t keep up. What—?”

“I didn’t want to take any chances. The mercenaries always seem to show themselves after the fight is over, as though they want to make sure they nab the immortal victor instead of the vampires.”

Alarm rose. “Did you see any closing in?”

“No. Will you watch the battle scene for me while I inspect your wounds?” He gingerly lowered her to her feet. “Are you okay to stand?”

“Yes and yes. I really don’t think the cuts are too deep. They just hurt. And stop looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’ve suffered a mortal injury or something and you want to go back and kill the vampires again.”

“Here.” He handed her his infrared scope. “I
would
go back and kill the vampires again if I could. I don’t like you getting hurt. I don’t like you being in pain.”

She raised the scope to her right eye and squeezed her left eye closed. The world appeared before her, normal black combined with weird shades of blue and purple and occasional splashes of yellow, orange, and red.

Étienne peeled her coat back and bent to check the wound at her waist. “What do you see? Any humans?”

“I see a guy driving past in a truck. A couple back near the frat—Jeeze! I think they’re having sex! Euw! In the bushes? Who
does
that?”

Was that a laugh?

She opened her left eye and checked.

Yes, she had wrung a smile from him. Good.

She grunted when he prodded the cut. “That hurts, you know.”

“It needs stitches.”

“No, it doesn’t. Just get me home. Sean will take care of it.”

“Keep looking,” he instructed and turned his attention to her thigh. “Good. They missed the artery.”

She squinted through the scope again. “Yeah. What is it with vampires and hamstrings?”

“They’re like lions trying to bring down a gazelle. They think to hobble you, then move in for the kill.”

“Bastards.”

“Yes.”

She turned in a complete circle, eliciting more French swear words from Étienne, who was still trying to examine her wounds. “I’m not seeing anything. I don’t think they came tonight.”

He waited for her to settle, then checked out her hip. “This one needs stitches, too.”

“Quit complaining.”

He straightened and took the scope from her. “I’m not complaining. I’m expressing concern.”

“Well, you’re harshing my mellow. We defeated five vampires tonight. That’s something to celebrate.”

He raised the scope to his right eye and turned in a circle. “I think if they were here they would have come out of hiding by now.”

“They certainly didn’t dawdle the last time we encountered them.”

“Wait here a moment. If you see anything, think a warning and I’ll hear it.”

“Where are you—?”

He vanished. Or moved so swiftly he seemed to. But his aura helped her trace his movements as he returned to the area in which they had fought.

Krysta raised the scope to her eye and looked around. No mercenaries.

Ooh. His aura looked really freaky through the scope as it streaked back toward her.

“Okay,” he said, stopping before her. “Let’s call it a night.”

“What did you do?”

“Confiscated the vampires’ weapons and tossed their clothing into the Dumpster.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s head for the car.”

She halted him when he bent to lift her into his arms. “I can walk, Étienne. Really. The wounds aren’t that bad.”

Brushing her hands aside, he lifted her into his arms anyway. “This is faster.
And
, if it will soothe your ego, you can tell yourself that I’m not doing this because I think your injuries have weakened you. I’m doing it because I was looking for an excuse to hold you.”

“I can do that,” she said, looping her arms around his neck. “Which one is it?”

“I’ll let you decide.”

“So, we’re really going to do this?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Hunt together?”

“That’s the plan. At least for the time being.”

Good. They made a great team. And the more time she spent with Étienne, the more time she
wanted
to spend with him.

Krysta combed her fingers through his thick locks. “Your hair is so soft.”

He smiled as the world blurred.

David reclined in his comfy chair, his feet propped on the edge of his desk, as he devoured the latest Stephen King novel.

Seth lounged in a chair on the other side of the desk, his large boots also gracing the scarred wooden surface as he studied his cell phone.

Outside, the sun was high in the sky, its rays filtering in and brightening the room naturally.

The house was quiet, save the occasional snore. Marcus and Ami were fast asleep. Bastien and Melanie were, too, having opted yet again to spend the day at David’s so Melanie could be near Ami.

Roland and Sarah had surprised them all by choosing to spend the day there as well. Seth thought Roland was beginning to pick up on Marcus’s tension. Roland may be antisocial, but he was fiercely loyal. And Marcus had been a good friend to him over the centuries.

Even Darnell slumbered.

Seth and David should be getting some rest as well. So many needed their help on a nightly basis that both often went days without sleep. But, when one’s sense of hearing was as acute as theirs, quiet was hard to come by and could often only be found during times like this.

“I think our secret is out,” Seth murmured.

David grunted and kept reading. A moment later he turned the page. “Which one?”

“I keep getting messages from immortals wanting to know why there are so many
gifted ones
in this area.”

“Tell them it’s something in the water.”

“I did. They didn’t buy it.”

“Coincidence?”

“They didn’t buy that either.”

“Too smart for their own good.”

“It doesn’t take a lot of smarts. Word gets around. First Roland found a
gifted one
, then Bastien and Richart. They all think Marcus has found one, too.”

David nodded, his eyes still on his coveted book. “This love thing is becoming an epidemic.”

“And everyone wants to be infected.”

“Can you blame them?”

Seth sighed. “No. Happily ever after, when you live as long as we do, sounds . . .”

“Phenomenal.”

“Yes.” He motioned to his phone. “You see? Another immortal requesting a transfer to North Carolina. They know something is up.”

“How long do you think it will take them to connect the unusually high
gifted one
population to the presence of a network headquarters?”

“I don’t know, but once they figure out we guide
gifted ones
to
all
areas that boast a network headquarters—”

“There will be hell to pay.”

Seth nodded. “They’ll think I’m playing matchmaker.”

“
And
playing favorites.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Exactly. Everyone knows I’m your favorite and yet I remain distressingly unattached.”

Seth grinned. “Angling for me to set you up on a blind date?”

“Hell, no.”

Laughing, Seth shook his head. “I don’t blame you. My record as a matchmaker sucks.”

“Bethany had a long, happy life.”

“And Marcus was miserable for centuries.”

“Marcus wouldn’t have found Ami if you hadn’t inadvertently denied him Bethany.”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

David smiled.

Seth swore. “I have to go. Friedrich needs me.”

David looked up from his book. “Be safe.”

“As always.”

Seth vanished.

 

 

Sean watched Krysta and Étienne arm themselves. Last night had been both informative and nerve wracking. He felt reasonably sure now that the immortals were on their side and truly
were
different from vampires. He was a little
less
sure that Étienne wasn’t messing with Krysta’s head.

The man was telepathic and clearly attracted to her. How easy would it be for him to manipulate her thoughts and plant an interest in himself?

Because she was clearly interested. Sean hadn’t seen Krysta this captivated by a man since before she had taken up vampire hunting.

Even when she had returned home from their hunt wounded last night, she had been unable to drag her gaze away from the Frenchman.

She laughed at something Étienne said.

She seemed to laugh a lot around him, too. Though it worried him, Sean had to admit it was good to see her in such high spirits.

Absently he rubbed his hip, where it still ached from healing her.

Cam had patiently answered all of Sean’s questions while they had waited for the hunting duo to return. He had encouraged Sean to get some rest, but Sean had been unwilling to turn in until he had seen for himself that Krysta was okay.

He had healed her wounds without complaint, grateful as usual that they weren’t fatal. Her eyes had sparkled with excitement as she had recounted their battle with five vampires.

She laughed again.

She really was taken with Étienne. Sean could understand her being grateful to the man for saving her life, but . . . was she really considering pursuing something romantic with him?

Hell. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. The life they had led for the past six—seven—years had been a lonely one. Krysta hadn’t been willing to give up or even cut back on her vampire hunting in order to date. And he hadn’t been able to date while he was watching her back and racing to her rescue every night. Even when he had lucked out and found a woman who hadn’t minded the weird-ass hours or the emergency calls that had interrupted their dates, he had had difficulty concocting plausible explanations for the wounds that had opened on his body when he had healed Krysta’s. So he had dated as little as Krysta.

He just wished Krysta would have fallen for Cam or one of the other Seconds instead of an immortal. That was a little hard to stomach.

Cam caught his eye. “You about ready?”

He nodded.

Krysta raised her eyebrows. “Ready for what?”

Sean straightened away from the doorjamb he had been propping up and entered. “Cam is taking me to network headquarters. I’m going to be working with Dr. Lipton tonight.”

“She’s the pretty brunet from the meeting, isn’t she? The one married to Bastien?”

Étienne nodded. “She’s as fierce a fighter as you are, but doesn’t hunt. She’s been too valuable in the lab, searching for a cure for the virus. She’s the one who developed the antidote to the tranquilizer the mercenaries use against us.” He met Sean’s gaze as he slid one last dagger into the sheaths sewn into the lining of his coat. “She’ll be able to answer all of your questions regarding the virus, immortals, and vampires.
Gifted ones
, too.”

Sean nodded. He had a lot of questions.

“I have a few questions myself,” Krysta said.

“I’ll answer them while we hunt,” Étienne promised.

He had been surprisingly amiable toward Sean, considering Sean had woken him yesterday by pressing a blade to his throat.

“She’s your sister. You’d die to protect her. I understand that,” Étienne had said.

Sean had doubted that until he had encountered Étienne’s sister Lisette. According to Cam, Lisette’s husband had been turned, but had hidden it from her until the insanity had kicked in. Then he had attacked her and transformed her against her will. Étienne and Richart had slain her husband and offered her their blood in an attempt to hide her condition from everyone else, not knowing that frequent exposure to the virus through bites would infect them as well. So for two hundred years, Lisette had been burdened with the knowledge that she had accidentally transformed her brothers.

And Étienne had never once held it against her, insisting he would have done nothing different had they known beforehand what it would cost him. Richart, too.

So Sean supposed they did have
that
in common. He would give his life to save Krysta. Étienne would give his life to save Lisette . . .
and
Krysta, which made it damned hard for Sean to continue resisting her involvement with the immortal.

“All right,” Cam said, drawing a set of keys from his back pocket and heading for the door. “We’re out. Call me if you need me.”

Étienne nodded.

Krysta waved with a smile.

The trip to the network took about forty-five minutes. Étienne lived way out in the boonies, distanced from towns and neighbors alike.

Sean studied the exterior of the building as Cam pulled into the parking lot occupied by more vehicles than Sean would’ve expected to see at this hour.

It was a little anticlimactic. Krysta had mentioned several times the power Chris Reordon, the leader of the East Coast division of the network, wielded. Sean would’ve thought the place would look a little more . . . remarkable.

Cam laughed as he shut off the engine and opened his door. “I know. Bland as hell, right?”

“Yeah.” Sean exited the car.

“That was deliberate. Chris wanted something that wouldn’t interest anyone who happened upon it because they took a wrong turn.”

Then he had succeeded. Surrounded by thick evergreens on all sides, it had been built far from strip malls, business districts, and residential neighborhoods. The one-story concrete structure looked aged and worn and reminded him of a storage facility for a package delivery service.

“Is this the front or the back?” he asked as he followed Cam to a plain wooden door.

“Back. There really isn’t much of a difference, though.”

The plain wooden door wasn’t so plain, Cam soon discovered. The inside was lined with steel and was as thick and heavy as the door of a bank vault. As Cam closed the door behind them, Sean found himself in a glass vestibule with a locked door and a view of a lobby.

Sean gave the glass an experimental rap with his knuckles. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess this is bulletproof glass.”

“The glass in the previous network headquarters building was bulletproof.
This
stuff will stop a fucking missile.”

The lobby was a modern collection of grays that comprised a U-shaped arrangement of comfortable-looking chairs. Large Peace Lilies on side tables injected what otherwise would have been a somewhat cold room with warmth and color.

Half a dozen guards manned a granite-topped security desk opposite the locked door. A good twenty more stood sentry beside elevators behind the desk. Rather than wearing traditional security guard uniforms, they all bore the standard black hunting garb of a Second.

And they were very heavily armed.

Cam waited while one of the guards at the desk rose and approached the door. He then held up an ID card.

“Hey, Cam,” the guard said, withdrawing some kind of laser scanner from a pocket on his belt.

“John. How’s the evening been?”

“Nice and quiet.” He scanned the card through the glass, then tucked away the scanner. “Clear,” he said over his shoulder.

A buzz sounded.

Cam grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

“Who’s your friend? Chris said you’d be bringing a visitor, but didn’t go into detail.”

“This is Sean Linz. Sean, John Wendleck.”

They shook hands.

Sean followed Cam and John toward the elevators.

“Sean and his sister Krysta are vampire hunters,” Cam mentioned.

John tilted his head to one side. “Don’t we all pretty much qualify as vampire hunters?”

“Yes, but they’ve been doing it on their own with no knowledge of our existence for the past six years. And by doing it on their own, I mean actively seeking out vampires, luring them into traps, and killing them.”

John’s eyebrows flew up. “You’ve been hunting vampires on your own? Damn. That’s ballsy.”

Several of the other guards nodded their agreement as the trio circled the desk.

A pair of elevator doors opened.

John reclaimed his seat behind the desk.

Sean stepped inside the elevator with Cam and looked around. “This is a one-story building. What’s the point of the elevator?”

Cam leaned forward and pressed a button marked S5. “There are five floors underground. We’re going down to the fifth, the sublevel with the tightest security.”

The doors slid closed.

“Why the tightest?”

“Vampires live there.”

Sean stared at him. “Come again?”

“Dr. Lipton’s office is on S5. Her lab is, too. She does all of her work down there and part of that includes working with two vampires who surrendered to the immortals.”

“If they’re vampires, why didn’t the immortals just kill them?” Sean demanded. What the hell? Vampires were the enemy. They were monsters.

“First, you might want to watch what you say because the vampires can hear you,” Cam cautioned. “Second, the madness hasn’t taken them yet. They’re good guys in a messed up situation and have asked for our help. Dr. Lipton is trying to do that. She’s trying to find a cure or at least to find a way to prevent or slow the brain damage they suffer as the virus progresses.”

“Are you saying vampires run around freely down here?”

“No, of course not.”

A bell dinged. The doors slid open.

Sean’s heart stopped.

Two vampires—one African American and one White—stood there, eyes glowing, fangs gleaming as their lips drew back into snarls.

“We do now,” the African-American vamp growled.

Fear shot through Sean. He hadn’t been allowed to bring any damned weapons!

The vampire threw back his head. “Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

The White vampire howled.

A tall, menacing figure garbed all in black suddenly appeared behind the vamps and popped them both on the back of the head.

“Ow!” they cried, grabbing their heads.

“Cut the crap,” the immortal ordered.

Sean recognized him from the meeting, but couldn’t remember his name.