Darkness Rises (Immortal Guardians) (24 page)

“No one has approached my parents? No mercenaries? No suspicious characters?”

“No one.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“We don’t know. None of us have encountered any mercenaries since they hit your house. We don’t know if that means they’re regrouping, or have given up, or what. We don’t know who these mercenaries are, how large their PMC is, who leads them . . .”

“What’s a PMC?”

“Private Military Company.”

“Oh.”

“If they’re a small group, perhaps we did enough damage to make them rethink things. If they aren’t, they’re probably plotting something.”

“Hmm.”

More quiet, comfortable, soothing.

“This sandwich is
really
good.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

“There are definite perks to hunting with you.”

And there were perks to hunting with her. Like spending hours and hours together every night. Getting to brush up against her and steal kisses and—

Think about something else. Something guaranteed to keep you from getting turned on.
“Your parents,” he blurted.

Raising her eyebrows, she finished the last bite and tucked the empty tea bottle into their dinner bag. “What about them?”

“Which one of them is a
gifted one?
”

“Both.”

“Really?” That was pretty rare in this century. “That must be why your gifts and your brother’s are stronger than that of other
gifted ones
in your generation.”

She nodded. “My mom can feel other people’s emotions and my dad can sometimes see the future.”

“Bastien can feel other people’s emotions.”

“The immortal everyone hates?”

“Yes.”

“Sean likes him.”

Étienne sighed. “Bastien has his moments.”

Several minutes passed.

Krysta looked at her watch. “We still have a few hours of hunting left and nothing much is happening. You want to make out a little?”

He laughed in surprised delight. “You’re a saucy wench, aren’t you?”

“Hey, when I want something, I go for it.”

His body hardened. “And you want me?”

“Yes.” She studied him intently. “Your eyes are glowing.”

“I want you, too.”

A breeze ruffled her hair, bringing with it the scent of blood.

He swore. “But, yet again, it looks like it’s time to go to work.”

“What is it?”

“Vampires, heading this way from the north.”

He stood, brushed the crumbs from his lap, then held his hand out to her.

She curled her small fingers around his and stood, hastily moving away from the roof’s edge. “Thank you.”

He brought her hand to his lips for a kiss.

She smiled. “You are so hot.”

“Don’t distract me, minx.”

She laughed. “Are we going to do this your way or my way?”

They had alternated between using Krysta as bait and hunting Étienne-style, which pretty much just entailed patrolling this campus or that and pouncing on any vampires they found.

Both got the job done. Unfortunately, neither reduced the danger to Krysta. No matter how many vamps they fought or how the battles began, she ended up wounded and in need of her brother’s healing hands. Both siblings seemed pleased, insisting she suffered far fewer wounds when she fought with Étienne. But it frustrated him that he couldn’t prevent the injuries entirely.

Étienne breathed deeply, collecting and sorting through the scents riding the wind. Tilting his head slightly, he caught snippets of conversation.

“There could be as many as a dozen. Three are fresh from a kill and boasting of it to the others.” He shook his head. “They relished every scream they elicited from their victim. Those three are beyond help. The others aren’t as vocal, so we’ll have to see if any are salvable enough to be swayed to our side.”

She grimaced. “It seems so useless, asking them to join us. Not one we’ve encountered so far has responded with anything other than disbelief and psychotic rage.”

“I know. But Seth and David want us to keep trying.”

“It still feels weird to take orders from someone else.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he said. They all had. And it helped that the ones giving the orders were exceedingly wise and fair.

He refocused on the smells and sounds of the vampire troupe. “With numbers that large, herding them into an alley might be tricky, restricting our movements.”

“True.”

“Let’s do this my way and just confront them head-on.”

“Will that give you enough time to read their minds and gauge their levels of madness?”

“Not as much as using you as bait would. But I want you by my side when the battle begins so I can watch your back.”

“Just don’t endanger yourself by trying to keep an eye on me constantly, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He refused to make that promise.
Think your thoughts to me from this point on. They’re getting close enough to hear us.

I said you could hunt with me. I didn’t say you could tell me what to do or that I wouldn’t watch over you in battle.
He scooped her up into his arms.

She looped her arms around his neck.

She nodded.
As I’ll ever be.

Bending his head, he touched his lips to hers.
Hold on tight.
Étienne stepped off the roof.

Her silky hair whipped his face as they dropped eight stories. He landed smoothly on the balls of his feet, the impact pulling her lips from his.

That is so cool
.

Smiling, he lowered her feet to the grass.
Fun, too. I admit, when I was younger, I went through a phase in which I repeatedly tested the limits of my abilities by jumping off higher and higher buildings.

She stepped back.
What happened?

I found out it isn’t fun to reach one’s limits.
He had broken a lot of bones that night.
And that doing stupid shit pisses Seth off.

She smiled.

Silently, they wound their way up sidewalks and between buildings. Étienne used his senses to estimate the vampires’ route, then decided to confront them where Bastien had once ended a bloody rampage: in the narrow parking alley—empty this time of night—between Peabody and Sitterson Hall.

Here they come
, he warned.

Krysta stood beside Étienne, nerves jumping.
Anything more from their thoughts?

You mean we might actually recruit some vampires tonight?
Unbelievable.
Only
you
could make me recruit instead of kill.

His lips twitched.
Why?

His eyes flashed amber.

Her pulse picked up.
Were you there? As
you
, I mean? You said you could do that.

Disappointing. She had been sleeping in Lisette’s room each night, but that dream had almost driven her to cross the hall.
Well, I only thought it fair that you share a little of the pain.

He lowered his gaze to her lips.
So you were serious when you suggested we make out on the roof?

Pretty much
.

Her gaze dropped to his groin. Wow. He wasn’t kidding.

Oops. She must have been broadcasting again.
I thought you guys had tremendous control over your bodies. Can’t you just . . . think it away?
What a waste. Damned vampires.

Lips twitching, he closed his eyes.
I’ll try
.

Since his eyes were closed, she didn’t bother to avert her own. That was quite a bulge. Even more impressive than the one he had sported in her dream as he had torn off her shirt and tongued her breasts.

Oh. Sorry
. What was the opposite of sexy and seductive? What was so
not
sexy that, if she pictured it, it would be the equivalent of a bucket of ice water dousing him?

Hmm. Sean’s nasty-ass meat loaf might do it.

Or the girl from
The Exorcist
projectile vomiting.

A skinny, saggy, one-hundred-year-old man dancing around naked.

He grimaced.
Where the hell did you see a one-hundred-year-old man naked?

She grinned.

He shuddered.
Okay, sober up. They’re about to come around the corner.

She could hear the vampires herself now. They weren’t exactly trying to keep their movements or boasts unobtrusive. As Étienne had said, three of the vamps seemed to be doing most of the talking.

The group strutted into view.

Krysta did a quick head count and came up with eleven.

They halted at the sight of her and Étienne.

“Gentlemen,” Étienne greeted them.

“Well, well, well,” one vampire said, his glowing blue eyes fastening on Krysta. Blood soaked his shirt and pants down to the knees.

What the hell had he done to his victim?

Another stepped up beside him, a sleazy smile shaping his thin lips. “Looks like tonight’s fun isn’t over.”

Étienne snapped his fingers. “Over here, gentlemen.”

They frowned at him.

“Apparently it has escaped your notice that I’m an Immortal Guardian.”

The eyes of all the vampires lit like lamps, glowing in varying shades of blue and green and amber. Almost as one, they drew weapons. Mostly bowie knives and machetes.

Krysta drew her shoto swords.

Étienne’s weapons remained sheathed. “I have a proposition for you.”

“I have a proposition for you, too,” one of the other vamps sneered. “I propose we kick your ass.”

“Yeah,” another said. “An Immortal Guardian killed Mac and Keith.”

“And Eddie.”

Étienne shrugged. “I suppose it could have been me, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“Fu—”

“A new enemy has arisen. One that poses a threat to both vampires
and
immortals.”

“Horseshit!”

“Humans are hunting us,” Étienne continued, unperturbed by the swears and slurs and shifting movements of the vamps. “More specifically,
mercenaries
are hunting us. They want to catch one of us, dissect us, and use the virus for economic gain.”

“Then I say we hand you over to them,” the first vampire jeered.

“That would be monumentally stupid.”

“
You’re
stupid!” a vamp in the back shouted.

“Great comeback,” Krysta muttered.

They turned their attention to her.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Étienne reprimanded. “Over here.”

They looked to him once more.

“As I was saying, turning me over to the mercenaries would be monumentally stupid. Whatever they learn about the virus and our physiology from dissecting
me
could be used against
you
. And vice versa. Which, by the way, is the only reason any of you are still standing.”

“We’re still standing because we outnumber you, jackwad.”

“I’m two hundred years older than you. Two hundred years stronger than you. Were your numbers twice what they are now, I could still defeat you.”

Really?
Krysta asked mentally. That was damned impressive.

More curses and denials and posturing. The blood-covered vamps and a few of the others were getting pretty amped up.

Krysta tightened her grip on the shoto swords, watching their auras carefully for any hint of impending attack.

“Though they’re human,” Étienne stubbornly persevered, “the mercenaries pose a serious threat. They’ve developed a new weapon to use against us. A tranquilizer—”

“Drugs don’t work on us,” a vamp snorted.

“This one does. It takes several darts to incapacitate an immortal. But a single dart will drop one of
you
in your tracks instantly and land you on the dissection table.”

Krysta nodded. “I’ve seen the darts in action. He isn’t bullshitting you. These guys could take out every one of you without even getting near you.”

“They’re just fucking with us!” a bloody vamp snapped.

“No, we’re not,” Étienne said, never raising his voice. “We’re proposing an alliance.”

“Vampires working with immortals?” another scoffed. “My ass!”

Étienne raised an eyebrow. “Your ass will be tortured if you’re caught. I suggest you work with us and—”

“Fuck this shit! Fuck him up!” the vamp with the saturated shirt shouted.

His orange aura shot toward Étienne a second before the vamp did. Half a dozen more did the same. The others darted toward Krysta.

She swung her swords, striking flesh as they closed in on her. Two fell back with howls of rage and pain. Then a third.

A blade cut across her hamstring.

Hissing in pain, she spun and sliced.

The vamp behind her bent forward, clutching his middle.

Yelps and hisses and gurgles of pain filled the night as Étienne tore into his opponents and Krysta continued to hold her own.

The tip of a blade pierced her side.

Gritting her teeth, Krysta swiveled and stabbed the vamp attacking on her left.

Pain exploded in her head.

She staggered.
Shit!
A vamp must have punched her. Her knees weakened as little sparkly bits of glitter flirted with her vision.

Brilliant purple and white swept in a circle around her, laying out all of the vampires swarming around her as he had once before.

Étienne paused in front of her, his face close to hers. “Are you all right?”

A vamp came at his back.

“Behind you!”

He spun around, swinging his sword, and swept the vampire’s head from his body.

The vampire beside him gaped and lowered his weapon, wide eyes latching onto Étienne. “Oh, shit!” He took a step back, then jerked and danced as holes opened in his chest and blood sprayed.

Two more vampires fell, their torsos peppered with bullets.

Krysta jerked as a bullet pierced her shoulder. Another filled her arm with fire.

Her hand went numb. Her sword fell to the ground.

Swearing, Étienne dropped a katana and swept Krysta behind him, holding her there with one arm as he backed up against the nearest wall.

A dart pierced a vampire’s neck. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Another vamp fell to a dart.

The remaining vampires froze, then raced for the opposite building, flattening themselves against the wall. There were only . . . five vampires left, those not killed by mercenaries having been taken out by Étienne or Krysta.

A vampire directly across from them stared at Étienne with wide eyes. “That shit was true?” he cried, voice high with fear. “What do we do?”

The others all waited in fearful silence.

She sheathed her other shoto sword and yanked out her cell phone. As soon as he answered, she whispered, “Mercenaries are attacking us!”

While she gave their location, Étienne ordered two vamps to cross the alley and join them.

They must have been too afraid to do anything but obey, because they only hesitated a second before they streaked across and hit the wall beside them.

A flurry of bullets whizzed past, missing them and ricocheting off the pavement with little sprays of asphalt and dirt.

“Protect the woman,” Étienne commanded.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Krysta demanded shrilly, stuffing the phone back in her pocket.

I’m going to sweep around and come up behind the soldiers
, he said.

Before Krysta could ask him what he meant, he continued.
The mercenaries are on foot.

The vamps all gasped and gaped at Étienne.

Was he talking to them telepathically, too?

“Dude,” the vampire beside her said, “how’d you do that?” A former Tar Heel hunting his old stomping grounds, according to his T-shirt.

“Let’s just run,” the second vamp hissed.

All of them swore.

The Tar Heel looked at his fellows and nodded.

One by one they all nodded back.

He turned to Étienne and gave him a thumbs-up.

Smart man. You stay here with André the Giant
, he said, indicating the huge, hulking vamp on the Tar Heel’s other side,
and guard the woman.

I can’t believe this shit,
Krysta muttered to him.

Étienne glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
I’ve read their thoughts. Any intention they had of harming you is gone
. He nodded to the three vamps across the alley.
I’m going to meet the larger group head-on. You three meet those who are circling around to the south. Keep moving. They can’t tranq or shoot what they can’t see. Stay between them if you can and maybe you’ll luck out and trick them into killing each other. Go. Now.

Étienne blurred and shot away.

When the three vamps hesitated, Tar Heel scowled and indicated with a furious wave that they should get their asses moving.

They blurred and shot away, too.

Krysta, drew the tranquilizer gun Étienne had insisted she carry. One dose, he had told her, would either kill a human or sedate a vamp.

She eyed the vamps nervously.

They shifted from foot to foot, hands clenching and unclenching on their weapons, gazes shifting back and forth from one end of the alley to the other.

Étienne had better be right about them.

 

 

Until he had met Krysta, Étienne had not felt real fear in . . . almost two centuries. He had had some scary moments in the first years following his transformation, but nothing like this.

Krysta was wounded and bleeding and he had just entrusted her care to two vampires. He continued to monitor those vampires’ thoughts. But, if they changed their mind and either attacked her or left her to fend for herself, he may not be able to get back to her in time to save her.

The notion terrified him.

Sticking to the shadows, Étienne headed first for the building from which he knew a mercenary was playing sniper and guiding the others. He leapt up to the roof, not bothering to soften his landing.

The mercenary swung around. Eyes wide, he raised a tranquilizer gun. This was probably the bastard who had shot Krysta.

Étienne closed the distance between them and knocked the gun aside before the man could squeeze the trigger.