Darkness Rises

Chapter 11

While Étienne inwardly cursed himself in every language he knew, Krysta swung around to gape up at him in disbelief.

“What?” Chris, Cam, and Sean spoke at the same time.

He gritted his teeth. “I said, she can hunt with me.”

It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Krysta safe, damn it. But when her brother had slapped her in the face with reality, the barriers of her mind had crumbled. He had heard every panicked thought and hadn’t been able to bear her unhappiness and dismay.

Seth and David glanced at each other, then examined Krysta and Étienne for several long moments, during which he suspected they were communicating telepathically.

If Seth and David nixed the idea . . .

Seth met Étienne’s gaze. “She’ll be a liability.”

Krysta did not like hearing that. A dozen denials immediately flooded her mind, overriding the panicked despair.

But Étienne couldn’t contradict it.

David drew Krysta’s gaze. “Though they don’t like it, immortals’ orders are very clear. If they are tranqed, they are to immediately flee the battle in order to avoid being captured and call their Seconds before they lose consciousness. When the two of you were attacked by mercenaries, Étienne put himself in a position where he would likely be captured in order to keep them from killing you.”

She lost some of her fight. “But I kept them from taking him.”

Seth acknowledged her words with a slight nod. “Had he been hunting alone, however, he would not have lingered once he saw that first dart. He would have gotten away without further injury.”

Quiet descended upon them, heavy and uncomfortable.

“Krysta,” Chris said, “you have to understand that, if you and Sean join us, your actions will affect us all. If you had been shot despite Étienne’s efforts to keep you safe, he would have been captured, tortured, and killed before we could even identify whoever the hell our new enemy is. The mercenaries would have then obtained both the virus and the DNA evidence they need to build their research and their army.”

“The fault was not entirely Krysta’s,” Étienne mentioned. “I thought the mercenary threat over. Had I not been so caught off guard by their reappearance, I would have reacted faster and likely could have gotten us both out of there before they could hit me with a second dart.”

Cam shook his head. “I could just as easily argue that you may have noticed the mercenaries’ approach and not been so caught off guard if Krysta hadn’t been distracting you.”

“I won’t make the same mistake twice,” Étienne insisted.

Another long moment passed.

Krysta fidgeted.

Sean said nothing.

Étienne didn’t have as much difficulty reading Sean as he did Krysta. The younger man was hoping the elders would forbid Krysta from hunting. Not because he feared he might die healing her, but because he feared she might be so badly injured one night that she would die before he could reach her.

He didn’t want to lose his sister.

Don’t make me regret this, Seth spoke in Étienne’s head. “I will allow it for now,” he decreed.

Much to Étienne’s surprise, Krysta didn’t smile with relief.

“Until we have eliminated the mercenary threat,” he continued. “I would like the two of you to either stay here at David’s home . . .”

“You are both welcome for as long as you wish,” David said.

“. . . or remain with Étienne at his,” Seth continued. “You have both now become targets of the mercenaries and will fare better with an immortal’s protection.”

The rest of the meeting comprised logistics. The siblings opted to stay with Étienne, who couldn’t be more pleased with the decision. Sean would have to refrain from attending classes until this was resolved, but would spend time at network headquarters working with Dr. Lipton and gaining a greater understanding of the virus in the meantime. Krysta would hunt with Étienne at night and train with him during the day.

Étienne was happier than he would’ve thought about that. Was he already so drawn to her that he would use any excuse to spend time with her? Even if it put her in danger?

Which it wouldn’t. He would keep her safe and ensure no harm befell her.

The ride home was quiet.

When Cam and Sean headed into the house, Étienne held Krysta back.

Guards still walked the perimeter, he noted, but those near the house had been dismissed.

She crossed her arms under her breasts and avoided his gaze.

Once the door closed behind the others, Étienne tilted her chin up. “What troubles you?”

For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t respond.

“Am I really a liability?” she asked, voice low.

He didn’t know how to answer that, whether he should be honest or sugarcoat it. Since he would’ve preferred to hear the truth if he were in her position, he opted for that. “Yes.”

“Then why did you agree to hunt with me?”

“Because I know how much hunting means to you. And, though the thought of you continuing to hunt terrifies me, I want you to be happy.”

At last, she met his gaze. “Why?”

“Because I care about you.”

“You barely know me.”

“I’ve been following you and learning everything I can about you since the night we met. I’ve listened to your conversations with your brother. I’ve caught occasional glimpses of your thoughts. I’ve fought beside you, both when you were awake and while you dreamed.”

“That was you in my dream?”

He nodded and tucked her hair behind one ear to expose her troubled features to the moonlight. “I know you,” he said simply.

She chewed her lower lip. “I don’t want to endanger you, Étienne.”

“You won’t.”

“I already have. I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me again.”

“At the risk of angering you, in this instance I don’t care what you want. If hunting endangers your life, I will do whatever it takes to protect you.” He rested a hand on her lower back and urged her toward the door.

He loved touching her. Even casually. And he loved that she let him.

“Now,” he said while she pondered his words, “you’ve already donned hunting clothes. And filched some of the weapons my sister left in her room. Before we embark on the night’s hunt, you may have your pick of the weapons in my armory.”

“We’re hunting tonight?”

“If you’re up to it.”

At last he won a faint smile from her. “I don’t know. What if you don’t have all of the weapons I need?”

He grinned. “I’m sure we can find something.”

A minute later his smile broadened as Krysta surveyed, with wide eyes and gaping mouth, the vast array of weaponry in his armory.

“Ho-ly crap!” she breathed.

Étienne laughed. “Think you can make do?”

“Uh . . . yeah. But it may take me several hours to choose.”

It was quite a selection. He usually kept on hand enough swords of varying lengths and styles, daggers, throwing stars, and more to outfit himself, his brother, his sister, and their three Seconds on any given night. With some left over for immortal visitors.

She strolled around the room, studying the blades displayed on the walls. “Could I just say holy crap again?”

Again he laughed. “This is only the portion of my collection that I keep in this home.”

She looked at him curiously. “You have others?”

He nodded. “In various countries. Many immortals own multiple homes. When we’ve been stationed in one place for long periods of time, it’s sometimes hard to move on and abandon what we’ve built there.”

She stopped before a pair of red-handled shoto swords. “May I?”

He smiled. “Be my guest.”

She drew one down and slid it from its gleaming sheath. “It’s beautiful.”

“My sister’s weapon of choice. Though, since the vampire population in this area has swelled, she has also begun to carry a couple of Glocks.” He closed the distance between them. “Here.” He reached for the sword. “Let me serve as your Second tonight.”

While she stood patiently before him, her eyes never leaving his face, he armed her with all of the weapons he knew she preferred to carry. Shoto swords in sheaths she could conceal beneath a coat. Daggers, in case she was disarmed.

His heartbeat picked up as he knelt and fastened sheaths to her slender thighs. Rising, he moved even closer to her (just because) and unfastened the belt that rode low on her hips and fell beneath her belly button.

Her pulse picked up, mirroring his own.

Slowly, he drew the belt from the first couple of loops on her cargo pants. Once the end was free, he slipped a gun holster onto it, then began threading the belt back through the loops. As he refastened it, he drew in a deep breath and savored her scent.

“I’m not really a gun kind of girl,” she whispered, leaning forward to nuzzle his throat.

His body hardened.

“Tonight you will be,” he murmured gruffly, fingers fumbling with the narrow buckle. “I want you to carry a tranquilizer pistol.”

She leaned back. “You want me to tranq the vampires?”

“Those I deem salvageable. I don’t suppose I could talk you into carrying a Glock as well, could I? In case we come up against more mercenaries?”

She frowned. “I’m afraid the extra holsters and weight of the ammo will restrict my movements.”

“I’ll carry it for you and toss it to you should the need arise,” he offered.

“Okay.”

He gave the belt one last tug, then hesitantly withdrew his hands. “You do know how to use it, don’t you?”

She snorted. “Of course.”

Even her confidence turned him on. “I do so love strong women.”

“Your eyes are glowing,” she commented softly.

“I want you.”

“You do?”

He nodded. Dipping his head, Étienne captured her lips with his own, pouring all of the passion he felt for her into the contact. As it had before, the brush of her lips struck him like lightning, firing his desire like no other ever had. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her up against him.

Breath catching, she rose onto her toes and slid her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest, her hips to his arousal.

He swore silently when she tore her lips from his.

“I want you, too,” she admitted.

He groaned and kissed her again, teasing her lips apart and sliding his tongue within to stroke and dance with hers.

“Whoa!” Cam blurted.

Étienne had been so distracted, he hadn’t even heard his Second approach.

“Ah, hell,” Sean said. “I knew it! I knew she was falling for him!”

Krysta dropped onto her heels, her lips abruptly leaving his.

He tightened his hold momentarily before letting her go with a sigh.

Cam stared at him as Krysta took a couple of steps back and sheepishly met her brother’s unsettled gaze.

“What?” Étienne demanded irritably.

“Nothing,” Cam responded. “Just . . . I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Krysta frowned. “We were just kissing. It’s not like you walked in on us having sex.”

Étienne fought back another groan. Don’t put that image in my head. I’ll be hard all night.

She tossed him a startled look, then grinned. Nice.

He shook his head. Not when we’re fighting vampires, it isn’t.

She laughed.

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Cam told Krysta, pointing at Étienne. “Kissing is big for this guy. He hasn’t been on a single date since I started serving as his Second.”

“Really? How long have you been his Second?”

“About as long as you’ve been hunting vampires.”

She winked at Étienne. “Cool.”

Damned if that didn’t make him want her even more.

Shaking his head, he motioned for the door. “Let’s get out of here before I do something that will embarrass you in front of your brother.”

Sean held up a hand, alarm crossing his features. “Wait. You’re just going hunting, right?”

Krysta rolled her eyes. “No, we’re going to park in Lovers’ Lane and spend the next several hours making out. Of course, we’re going hunting.” She headed past the duo and out into the hallway.

Cam raised his eyebrows as Étienne approached. “You have everything you need?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll be here if you need us.”

Étienne followed Krysta down the hallway and out the front door. “Relax,” he heard Cam say inside. “Étienne is a good guy. You can trust him.”

Cam was a good guy, too. Steady. Somber. Reliable. (Unlike Sheldon, who was still learning and could be a handful.)

Étienne’s last Second had been killed in a car accident. Étienne hadn’t been able to believe it at the time. The man had survived twenty-five years of backing up an immortal who hunted vampires for a living, then had died because some dumbass had been too busy texting to stop for a red light.

“So,” Krysta said, skipping down the front steps, “how are we going to do this? Do you pick the campus we investigate or do I and how will we get there?”

“I thought I would pick the place—I’m thinking Duke again—and drive us there.”

“Duke sounds great and, for some reason, you driving a car seems weird.”

He laughed and led the way to the Tesla Model S Cam had backed out of the garage for him while he and Krysta were in the armory. “Why? Because I can run as fast as one?”

“Yes. And that is totally cool.”

It really was.

“Speaking of cool,” she said, admiring the shiny black sedan, “this is nice. Very sleek.”

“Thank you. It’s electric.”

Her eyebrows flew up. “Are you serious? I thought all electric cars looked like a toddler’s shoe. This . . . looks like money.”

He opened the passenger door for her. “I like it, too. There are zero emissions, so my sensitive nose gets a break from exhaust fumes, and I can go up to three hundred miles on a charge.”

“Daaaaaamn. I—and my bank account—really need one of these. The price of gas has been kicking my ass.”

He smiled down at her as she sank into the comfortable seat and fastened her seat belt. “You’ll get one if you come to work for us. Every job working for the Immortal Guardians comes with a low or no emission, fuel efficient car of your choice.”

“No way!”

He nodded. “Sean will get one, too.”

“Wait. We’ll each have our own car?”

“Absolutely.” He closed the door, zipped around to the driver’s side, and sank into the seat Cam had pushed all the way back from the steering wheel.

The engine started as he buckled his seat belt.

Krysta’s eyes widened, then fastened on the touch screen.

Hell, if a cool car would entice her to join them, he’d see that she got two of them. He really didn’t want her to continue hunting. She was mortal. Vulnerable. Fragile. It was only a matter of time before tragedy struck.

And he didn’t want to think about that.

Krysta strolled through Duke’s campus, Étienne at her side. Her mind raced with everything she had learned earlier. Her heart raced at his nearness.

Oddly, it almost felt as if they were out on a date.

Maybe he was just naturally gallant, opening the car door for her, often guiding her with a hand on her lower back. Even his speech sometimes seemed old worldish.

He was from another era.

“This is so weird,” she said.

“What is?” he asked, his sharp eyes searching every shadow.

He had said he loved strong women. Well, apparently she adored strong men, because in his warrior mode he was breath-stealingly, heart-racingly appealing.

Tearing her gaze away from her gorgeous companion, Krysta kept an eye out for glowing orange auras. “Me walking and talking with a man born in the nineteenth century.”

“Actually, I was born in the eighteenth century. Seventeen eighty three, to be exact.”

Unreal. She was lusting after a man born over two hundred years before she had been born. “So, you lived through the French Revolution?”

He nodded. “The Reign of Terror.”

Honestly she had forgotten almost everything she had learned about the French Revolution and knew only the dates (roundabout) and that thousands had died under the guillotine. She wanted to ask if he had lost anyone to Madame Guillotine, but thought it too morbid. “That must have been . . .”

“Bad,” he said, his face clouding.

She shouldn’t have said anything.

Then she realized . . . “You lived during Napoleon’s reign?”

He nodded. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he smiled faintly. “Your mouth is hanging open again.”

“I’ll bet it is.” This was so crazy. “Was Napoleon really short like everyone says?”

“Oui.”

“How many languages do you speak?”

“Not many. I’m fluent in half a dozen or so and know a phrase here or there in half a dozen more.”

“That many?”

“Older immortals know far more. Seth knows them all. David, too, most likely.”

“All?”

“Even those that have long since been forgotten.”

Krysta wished she were fluent in more than one language. She had learned Spanish in high school, but had forgotten most of it. And her college career had been cut short by a vampire attack and her resulting obsession with hunting vamps.

“Say something else in French,” she requested.

A series of lilting indecipherable words flowed smoothly from his tongue.

“What did you say?” she asked curiously.

“Something I can’t repeat without you either blushing furiously or striking me.”

“Was it naughty?” she asked with a smile.

His smile turned wicked. “Very naughty.”

Now she really wanted to know what he had said.

“Does it trouble you?” he asked hesitantly.

“What? You talking dirty to me in French?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, that I’ve lived so long.”

“No.” And she wasn’t sure why. “Maybe because you don’t look your age.”

He grimaced. “I should hope not.”

Quiet fell.

A breeze ruffled their hair. His, she knew from burying her fingers in it, was thick and as soft as silk.

“This isn’t working,” he pronounced.

Crap. She shouldn’t have brought up his age. “Why? Is it because you think I’m too young for you?”

“What?” He stopped walking and faced her. “No. I was talking about our . . . outing.” Hunt, he added in her head, in case someone out of sight was listening.

“Oh. Right.”

“You aren’t too young for me.”

“Of course I’m not.”

He frowned. “Do you think you’re too young for me?”

“No.”

“We’re both adults.”

“Yes, we are.”

“There will be cultural differences, of course.”

“Could make things more interesting.”

He looked around, eyes sharp. Returning his attention to her, he tilted his head to one side. Moonlight filtered down through the trees and highlighted his handsome face. “What do you say we do this your way?”

Krysta wasn’t sure how to answer that. Were they talking about pursuing their attraction to each other or hunting? Or both? “What exactly are we talking about?” she asked, just to be sure.

His lips twitched. “I was talking about our outing. Why? What were you talking about?”

Smiling, she hit him in the shoulder. “Stop teasing me.”

He grinned. “Absolutely not. I’m enjoying it too much.” Again, he surveyed the campus around them. “As much as I love your delightful company, I think I should leave now. I’ve work to do and the night is passing quickly.”

“Really?”

He nodded and smiled again. “Go do your thing.”

Was he actually giving her the go-ahead to act as bait? She had assumed he intended to do all the hunting himself and was pretty much just letting her tag along.

“Okay.” Though she regretted having to give up his company.

I’ll monitor you from the rooftops, he added telepathically. Anytime you wish to speak to me, just direct your thoughts toward me as though I were standing before you and you were speaking them aloud and I should hear them.

Okay. Did you hear that?

He smiled. Yes.

Can you hear everything else I’m thinking?

He was silent a moment. No. Your barriers are still in place, so I can only hear what you wish me to hear.

Good.

He pursed his lips. Any naughty thoughts about me floating around up there?

Many many naughty thoughts.

He stepped closer to her. In case anyone is looking . . . Resting his hands on her waist, he drew her up against him and proceeded to kiss the stuffing out of her.

Fire licked through Krysta’s veins as she locked her arms around his neck. Her heart pounded a rapid beat as he slid his hands up her rib cage, his thumbs nearing her tingling breasts.

He murmured something in French in her mind.

Say it in English, she reminded him.

How you tempt me.

Good, because he tempted the hell out of her.

When he dragged his lips away, she was happy to discover his breathing was as ragged as hers.

“Good night,” he said, voice low and hoarse.

“Good night.”

Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips.

Krysta didn’t have to fake a stumble as she turned to walk away from him. Her knees were weak. All this time she had thought that was just corny crap found in chick flicks. She hadn’t realized passion really could weaken your knees.

She shook her head at herself. She was twenty-seven years old and no virgin. She should already know that, shouldn’t she?

As she walked up the sidewalk, exploring the quadrangles that hosted her favorite frat houses, she caught periodic glimpses of Étienne’s pretty white and purple aura leaping from roof to roof.

She wished she could do that. That would be so much fun.

Testing. Testing. Can you hear me? she asked.

He laughed. Yes.

When you said we’d be hunting together, I didn’t think you meant as we have been.

I may not like it, but you do make good bait.

She was getting used to hearing his warm, deep voice in her head. Can I drunk dial you? Her fictional drunken phone calls worked well to distract any vamps tailing her.

Anytime we aren’t hunting.

She smiled. I’m not a big drinker.

Nor am I. Alcohol has no effect on us, so there isn’t much point.

Oh. Well, I was just going to fake it anyway.

As you have before. I admit I found your rants both credible and entertaining.

That gave her a warm feeling.

But, he went on, if you were to call me, the vampires would hear your conversation both down there and through my phone up here, alerting them to my presence.

Oh. Your ears really are sensitive, aren’t they?

Yes, as are vampires’.

Bummer. I was going to talk dirty to you.

Damn. I hate to miss that.

Maybe later. I could talk dirty to you mentally, she suggested boldly.

Very tempting, but it looks like you have some nibblers.

Vampires are taking the bait? she asked, staggering a bit to one side. Already?

Definitely. Two approach from your five and three more from your eight.

Ooh. I like this. No more guessing how many I’ll face or trying to sneak a peek at them.

How did you live through six years of this?

I’m good at what I do.

Just don’t get cocky.

I won’t. Any sign of mercenaries?

Silence. No. Nothing with my eyes. Nothing with the infrared. What about you? Any human auras lurking in odd places?

She paused at a crosswalk and looked around as though trying to remember where she wanted to go. The vampires scattered like cockroaches, their auras leading the way.

No. No humans.

Good.

Half singing under her breath, she led the vamps away from the frat houses, past eating establishments that would have been packed with students only a couple of hours earlier, and toward the science buildings that would give them a little more privacy and be less likely to draw the attention of anyone out and about this late.

Adrenaline surged through her veins as she ducked into a darkened area she suspected was used for deliveries and paused. It was the closest thing to an alley nearby and would have to do. Reaching beneath her coat, she drew her borrowed shoto swords and spun around. “Hi, guys.”

Those vamps who had already bent forward in a menacing crouch, intending to taunt and frighten her, frowned. Straightening, they looked at each other, then her.

She grinned. “I believe this is where I’m supposed to say: It’s on.”

Étienne appeared behind the vamps at the mouth of the pseudo-alley, swords drawn. “Actually,” he countered. “it’s not on. Did you forget we need to talk to them first?”

The vamps spun to face Étienne, drawing weapons they had thought they wouldn’t need to slaughter a drunk sorority girl.

Krysta swore. “Yes, I did. I see now why that grumpy older guy didn’t want to do this. It kinda ruins the flow of it all.”

“What the hell?” one vamp asked, looking back and forth between them.

“An Immortal Guardian,” one sneered, his eyes flashing a bright blue as they slid to Krysta. “And his mortal Second.”

The others’ eyes flared to life in a variety of colors. Some actually hissed liked movie vampires did.

Étienne raced right through their midst and planted himself in front of Krysta.

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.