Darkness Rises

Chapter 19

Krysta stood with Étienne and her immortal brethren (it felt so weird to think of them that way) in the shadows of tall, fragrant evergreens. The moon was new, something that should work to their advantage. Unless the compound bore ultrabright stadium lights, there should be plenty of shadows from which immortals could strike.

Étienne tightened his grip on her hand. Keep your mind open to me.

You look nervous, she said, peering up at him. She was a little nervous herself. Are you planning to propose to me again? she teased.

He smiled. Not if your answer will change.

Krysta shook her head. It will always be yes.

He stole a quick kiss.

Feel better? she asked.

Yes.

You were worrying about me getting hurt, weren’t you?

You know me well.

She liked to think she did. We’ve fought mercenaries and won before.

There were far fewer to fight and you still ended up getting shot.

I’m immortal now. Bullets won’t kill me.

But they hurt like hell and, as I’ve said before, I don’t like seeing you hurt.

I am so in love with you, she professed.

I love you, too, he said, eyes acquiring an amber glow.

I know. Don’t let that distract you tonight. I don’t want you worrying about me. I can kick ass like the rest of them.

He raised her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. As you wish.

You’re totally lying and are going to worry about me anyway, aren’t you?

Again, you know me well.

Seth appeared in their midst. Chris and the Seconds are in place. Time to go to work.

Stay sharp, David advised.

All nodded and drew their weapons.

Seth and David vanished. Krysta thought at first that they had teleported, then realized as sounds of their flight reached her ears that they were just so freaking fast that they had only appeared to.

Roland, Sarah, and Marcus shot off after them.

Melanie and Bastien followed.

Richart teleported.

Krysta, Étienne, and Lisette raced forward.

Ethan, Edward, Yuri, and Stanislov brought up the rear.

Anxiety filled Étienne as they whipped through the trees, feet barely touching the ground, making no sound that would alert the guards to their approach.

Krysta was a fantastic fighter and lacked nothing in the confidence department. But she wouldn’t be fighting vampires this time. Her ability to see auras would not aid her as they did with vampires and . . .

He just wasn’t sure how she would react to killing humans.

We’re at war, she thought, and lives are at stake. Immortal. Vampire. Gifted one. And human, if these people succeed in creating their army of supersoldiers. I’ll feel the same way killing them as I would if I were in the army fighting to defend my country.

How did you do that? he asked, nonplussed.

Do what?

Read my thoughts?

You were . . . what is it you call it? . . . projecting or broadcasting them.

Big-time, Lisette added.

And still he worried.

An explosion rocked the night.

The forest they navigated parted and a twenty-foot fence entwined with razor wire loomed.

Étienne leaped it easily and held his breath until he saw Krysta do the same.

An alarm sounded, wonk wonk wonking at deafening decibels.

Gunfire erupted as guards swung around to face the threat and fired blindly at the blurred figures racing through the yard.

Several soldiers cried out as Richart, Ethan, and Edward went to work eradicating them.

Bullets whizzed past and filled the air like swarms of mosquitoes. Étienne dodged as many as he could as he and Krysta followed Bastien and Melanie to the wooden structures beside the main building.

Étienne didn’t know how Seth and David had gained entrance to the main building, but the brick facade looked as though a wrecking ball had hit it several times.

Screams rent the air. The scent of blood thickened on the breeze.

Étienne saw crimson liquid spurt from Krysta’s shoulder and clenched his teeth.

I’m fine, she said. Stop worrying about me.

Easier said than done.

Ahead of him, Bastien swore foully as Melanie burst through the door of one of the barracks without waiting for him.

Étienne headed into another, Krysta right on his heels.

Merde. This must be one the damned day guards used because the fucker was full. Men in T-shirts and boxer shorts were already leaping out of bed and grabbing weapons, having been given a few seconds’ warning by the damned alarm that continued to blare outside.

Étienne never slowed. Swinging his katanas, he barreled through them like the bulls of Pamplona. Howls of pain ensued.

At the opposite end of the room, he stopped and spun around.

Krysta remained in constant motion, zigzagging from side to side as she cut down the soldiers and herded those still standing toward Étienne’s deadly blades.

Two more bullets hit her. Pain erupted in her side and her thigh.

Gritting her teeth, she powered forward, glad she had chosen to wield katanas tonight rather than the shorter shoto swords. The longer blades worked well against humans with guns and seemed to scare the hell out of them at the same time.

The humans’ auras took on a dark, muddied red as anger and fear seized them.

Krysta wished their auras would warn her when and where they intended to shoot, because those damned bullets stung!

She was so glad Étienne had transformed her. Had he not done so, she would be down on the floor, bleeding to death.

Étienne started working his way back toward her.

The scent of fear mingled with the strengthening odors of blood and death.

A tranquilizer dart whipped past, narrowly missing her ear.

Crap!

She singled out the shooter and . . .

Oh. She had meant to knock the weapon from his hand with a katana, but overextended herself and severed his hand.

Screaming, the soldier gripped his wrist and sank to the floor.

A bullet struck her in the shoulder.

She faltered.

Krysta! Étienne shouted mentally.

Right. She swung at the next soldier. And the next. And the next. Stepping over bodies as she methodically made her way toward Étienne.

Something stung her neck like a bee . . . and the world went black.

Étienne took out two soldiers with one swing and glanced through the shifting bodies that still fought to check on Krysta.

A dart hit her in the neck.

Her knees instantly buckled and she hit the floor hard.

“Krysta!”

One tranquilizer dart shouldn’t have felled her like that. It should have only made her woozy. And he didn’t see any other darts sticking out of her.

Krysta!

She didn’t move. Didn’t respond to his shout. Just lay there like a corpse.

Étienne? Lisette said. What is it?

Krysta’s down!

He plowed through the soldiers, cutting as he went.

How could there still be so many?

Melanie burst through the door, zipped over, and knelt beside Krysta.

Either she had heard his mental shout or Lisette had told her Krysta needed help.

Étienne kept one eye on them as he battled the damned mercenaries.

Melanie yanked out the dart. “Listen to my thoughts,” she called over the racket. Can you hear me? she asked as she pressed two fingers to Krysta’s neck.

Yes. Something’s wrong. She was just hit with the one dart. She lost consciousness instantly.

Okay. Don’t panic. She’s alive.

That relieved him a little. Seeing Krysta drop like that had scared the hell out of him.

Melanie delved into a pocket, withdrew an autoinjector full of the antidote, flipped the lid, and jammed it against Krysta’s neck.

Nothing happened.

Bullets peppered Étienne’s chest.

Focus! David rebuked him. He and Seth must be listening in and monitoring the situation.

Étienne impaled the shooter. Dropping a sword, he grabbed the man’s automatic weapon and opened fire on the soldiers rushing toward Melanie and Krysta, still swinging his other sword at the soldiers closest to him.

More bodies sank to the floor.

Krysta’s eyelids fluttered, then lifted.

“Can you hear me?” Melanie asked her, leaning in close to draw eye contact and to be heard over the alarm and screams and sounds of battle.

Krysta nodded. Even from where he was, Étienne could see how sluggishly she responded.

“Can you move?”

Her hands twitched. Her feet, too. Slowly, she dragged her arms closer to her body. “Weak,” she whispered.

Melanie delved into her pocket again and took out another autoinjector.

Wait, Étienne said. He remembered Richart telling him Melanie had freaked out when Bastien had tested the antidote on himself because it was so strong it could kill an elephant. She had feared it might make his heart beat so fast that it would merely flutter instead of beating and cease pumping blood through his body.

Melanie ignored him, jamming the pen into Krysta’s arm.

Krysta gasped. Eyes widening, she jackknifed into a seated position, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“Are you okay?” Melanie asked, taking her by the wrist.

Krysta nodded. “My heart is racing.”

“Any chest pain?”

“No.”

“Difficulty breathing?”

“I’m breathing kind of fast, but . . . I think I’m okay.”

“Let me know immediately if that changes for the worse.”

Krysta nodded and scrambled to her feet, picking up the swords she had dropped.

Melanie caught Étienne’s gaze. Tell the others the mercenaries have upped the dose. One dart will fell them so swiftly they won’t have time to use the antidote. Any immortal felled should be given the antidote twice. “You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked Krysta.

Nodding, Krysta leaped into the fray again, a big grin lighting her face. “I’m fine. Thank you!”

Melanie darted out the door.

Seth warned the others before Étienne had a chance.

Étienne jerked his head to the side just in time to avoid a dart.

Moments later, the last mercenary fell and Étienne raced forward to yank Krysta into his arms.

“I’m okay,” she muttered into his shirt.

He could feel how swiftly her chest rose and fell, heard her racing heart, and wasn’t so sure about that. “You’re practically panting.”

“What can I say? You turn me on,” she retorted.

“Don’t joke about this!” he snapped, tightening his hold on her.

“I’m sorry,” she said and leaned back. “I’m okay. Really. I think double the antidote is a little too strong, but I don’t feel like I’m dying or anything.”

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“I know, honey. I really am okay. I actually feel . . . great.” And damned near danced in place, seeming unable to remain still. “Really juiced. Like I could . . . I don’t know . . . take out a helicopter or something.” Laughing, she tugged him toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go. We still have lots of ass to kick.”

Étienne steadied her when she nearly tripped over a body in her haste, then followed her outside.

Bastien and Melanie raced past toward the third and last barracks.

“We’ve got the last one,” Bastien called and plunged inside, Melanie right behind him.

Richart appeared in front of Étienne and gave Krysta a quick once-over. “Are you all right?” he asked, face full of concern.

“I’m awesome!” she declared with worrisome enthusiasm.

Richart cast Étienne a dubious glance.

“You heard Seth?” Etienne asked.

His brother nodded. “Stay safe.” He vanished.

You, too, Étienne thought.

Ethan and Edward, along with Richart, steadily reduced the numbers of the guards outside.

All hell had broken loose in the hangars, judging by the sounds of it, so Yuri and Stanislov appeared to have things under control there.

Or not.

Three mercenaries fled one hangar and scrambled into a helicopter. The blades began to rotate as the engine hummed to life.

Krysta gave Étienne a huge grin, her face lighting with excitement. “I’m doing it!” she blurted, sheathing her swords and drawing two daggers.

“What?”

“I’m taking out that helicopter!” Whooping, she dashed away.

“Wait!” He took off after Krysta. Melanie!

Yes?

Can a double dose of the antidote cause erratic behavior?

That’s definitely a possibility. It’s a stimulant and frighteningly strong. Why?

The helicopter lifted off the ground.

Krysta picked up speed, running damned near as fast as an elder.

Because I think Krysta has lost her damned mind!

The helicopter began to move away, strafing the yard with machine gun fire.

Krysta veered toward a Humvee, jumped onto the hood and, without slowing, leaped into the air.

Étienne nearly dropped dead of a fucking heart attack as he watched her fly through the air and dive through a side door, tackling one of the door gunners.

Fuck!

Jumping onto the Humvee, he leaped after her.

The helicopter wobbled and began to spin away.

Étienne brushed the landing gear with his fingers and latched on, pulling himself up and through a side door.

One door gunner was dead. A second soldier fell out the other side. The pilot . . .

Krysta buried a dagger in his heart as he spun toward her with a 9mm.

The helicopter tilted and spun as the pilot abandoned the controls and slumped over dead.

“Now what?” Étienne demanded incredulously as she turned a triumphant smile on him. He sure as hell couldn’t fly this thing. And they couldn’t jump without being caught in the rotors.

Her face fell. “Oh, shit. I didn’t think of that.”

Seth!

The ground rushed toward them.

Seth appeared in the helicopter and promptly bumped his head. “Ah! Shit!” Reaching out with both hands, he grabbed their shoulders.

Étienne breathed a sigh of relief when they teleported to the tarmac in front of one of the hangars.

Fire reached toward the sky as the helicopter crashed and exploded. Pieces of the rotor blades tore off and shot through the night, taking out several more mercenaries for them.

“You!” Seth said, pointing an authoritative finger at Krysta. “Calm the fuck down!”

Eyes wide, she nodded hastily. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what—”

“It’s the drug. I know. Étienne, keep her in check.” He vanished.

Krysta stared up at Étienne, eyes wide. “I can’t believe I just did that. I’m so sorry. Are you hurt? You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine. You just scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. She hadn’t thought. Energy had poured through her, demanding an immediate outlet. She had seen the helicopter and . . .

She hadn’t thought. She had just acted.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing one of her Glocks and firing over her shoulder at some threat behind her.

“Yes.”

“No chest pains?”

“No. My breathing is even beginning to slow.” And rational thought was returning.

He nodded.

“I really am sorry,” she said. They could have died in that helicopter. One of the rotor blades could have decapitated them when it crashed. Or they could have burned to death in the fire.

Could fire kill immortals?

“It’s all right. Let’s go help Yuri and Stanislov—”

Eyes rolling back in his head, he dropped to the pavement.

“Étienne!”

A dart stuck out of his shoulder.

Looking past him, she jerked to the side to avoid a dart aimed at her, then flung a dagger at the mercenary aiming his tranquilizer gun at them.

It sank to the hilt in the man’s chest, felling him as quickly as the dart had dropped Étienne.

Kneeling, Krysta rolled Étienne onto his back and drew out two autoinjectors with shaking fingers. “Étienne?” She flipped the lids open and jabbed them into his neck.

A few seconds later he gasped. Eyes flying open, he sat up so swiftly he rammed his head into hers.

“Ow! Shit, your head is hard!” she complained, rubbing her throbbing forehead.

“What happened?”

“Seriously, you didn’t feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Never mind. You were tranqed. Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I’m great!” He leapt to his feet, a wide smile splitting his blood-painted face. “Let’s go kick some ass!”

Krysta scrambled to her feet as he sped into the nearest hangar. “Wait!”

Something exploded inside.

“Oh, crap.” She took off after him.

As Seth swung his katanas with deadly precision, he heard David laugh on the other side of the building.

Seth smiled wryly, confusing his opponents. I think we may have a new problem on our hands.

It would seem so.

Have you been hit with a dart yet?

No. Strike that. Yes.

Do you need me?

No. It’s a great deal stronger than the darts used against us in the past. I had to use the antidote.

Two doses?

No. One sufficed for me. The young ones must be more susceptible.

The closer Seth came to the back of the building, the thicker the soldiers grew. They were definitely protecting something.

Or someone.

A dart hit him in the chest.

Seth yanked it out.

Another hit him in the neck.

Again he yanked it out and cursed the damned hallway that allowed so little maneuvering. All the humans had to do was fire blindly in his direction and sooner or later they’d hit him.

He worried anew about David.

I’m fine.

Warn me if you need to use another dose of the antidote. If it juiced David up as it had Krysta and Étienne . . .

Hell, with his power, there was no telling what havoc he could wreak.

David laughed. Don’t worry. I won’t risk it. And shouldn’t have to. I’ve nearly eliminated all of the soldiers over here.

Any sign of the commander?

No. And the soldiers’ minds are too chaotic and plentiful to read.

I suspect I’m on his trail.

Bullets continually peppered Seth’s large form.

The soldiers’ panic multiplied as they watched with wide eyes as every bullet that pierced him, within seconds, reemerged from his body and fell to the floor at his feet.

“What the hell are you?” one shouted.

The childish “wouldn’t you like to know” taunt floated through his head, wringing another smile from him.

A smile that seemed to terrify the soldiers even more.

A mercenary ducked out of a doorway farther down and aimed a shoulder-fire missile at him. “Fire in the hole!”

The remaining soldiers all hit the ground as fire and smoke accompanied the missile’s launch.

Seth waved a hand, directed the missile up through the ceiling, the roof, and detonated it in the night sky.

The soldier gaped.

Seth arched a brow. “Care to try again?”

The soldier swallowed as his comrades regained their feet.

“That’s what I thought. Now why don’t you show me what—or whom—you’re hiding?”

Weapons raised and resumed fire.

Through the hole in the roof, Seth saw Chris’s Black Hawk helicopters swoop past. A rumbling sound, wafting through the gaping maw he and David had left in the front of the building, told him the armored personnel carriers and Humvees full of network guards had also arrived.

Enough. He needed to end this, if he could, before the humans fully entered the fray.

Ignoring the injuries constantly opening on his flesh, he cut down the remaining soldiers and eyed the door they had been defending.

Waving a hand, he slid the bodies away from it and took a step toward it.

Wait, David said.

Seth paused.

David streaked up the hallway and stopped beside him. “The building’s clear. Roland, Sarah, Marcus, and Lisette took out everyone in the basement levels and are outside lending aid wherever it’s needed, so whoever is behind this door is all that’s left.”

There was an electronic palm pad with keys requiring a code to open the door. Seth waved a hand. Sparks shot from the gadget and a loud clunk sounded. He pushed the door inward.

Automatic gunfire resounded as bullets bombarded him.

Three men, wielding the weapons, backed away to the far side of the room.

Seth recognized two of them.

Donald and Nelson, David said, yanking the weapons from their hands with a thought and flinging them out of reach.

Nelson drew a grenade from his pocket, pulled the pin, and threw it.

David again used telekinesis to send it out into the hallway and up through the hole in the roof Seth had created with the missile.

Show-off, Seth remonstrated as it exploded. Hold them still while I find out what we missed.

The men froze, the only movements David allowed them the rising and falling of their chests and the blinking of their eyes.

Seth delved into their minds. Was it a hard drive? A laptop? A hidden backup server? An e-mail? What had they missed? How had Donald and Nelson rediscovered vampires and immortals and begun the hunt anew?

When Seth found the answer, shock seized him.

“What is it?” David asked, brow crinkling with concern.

“It isn’t possible,” he whispered.

“What isn’t?”

Seth met his gaze. “Their memories have been restored.”

David stared at him, the same disbelief Seth felt writing itself upon his face. “That’s not possible.”

“It shouldn’t be. We buried them ourselves.” So deeply the memories could never have surfaced again on their own. Nor with drugs. Nor with hypnosis. Not even manifested in dreams.

“Humans lack the ability to accomplish such a task on their own,” David said.

“Yes.” Rage began to simmer within him.

“Such could only be accomplished . . .”

“With the help of an immortal,” Seth finished for him, speaking the unimaginable.

Had one of their own turned against them?

David looked at the mercenaries in question. “Can you see who did it?”

The mercenaries’ faces contorted with pain as Seth ruthlessly tore through their memories.

“No.”

“We can’t let them live.”

Seth agreed. They had only let the mercenaries live before because their PMC was elite enough that Chris had feared the deaths of both men might draw too much scrutiny. But they had no choice now. No human with any memory of this operation could be allowed to live.

Seth stopped the men’s hearts.

David let them fall to the floor.

An immortal had aided the enemy.

The building around them began to tremble as Seth’s control slipped, succumbing to the fury and, yes, hurt, swelling within him.

A clap of thunder split the night. Then another. Cracks opened in the walls. Sheetrock fell from the ceiling.

David reached out and rested a hand on Seth’s shoulder.

They stared at each other.

Calm seeped into him from David’s touch, dampening some of the fury.

Seth took several deep breaths.

The building stilled.

Utter silence reigned outside for several long minutes.

Gradually, work and conversation resumed.

David shook his head. How could any immortal betray you like this?

Betray us, Seth corrected, feeling sick. Whoever it is has betrayed us all, put us all in danger.

After you helped him adjust to his new way of life and did a thousand other things to improve his existence and foster happiness and contentment.

Or her.

David looked as ill as Seth felt.

Boots struck linoleum, carrying someone up the hallway toward them.

They faced the doorway just as Chris stopped in it, garbed in black and carrying an automatic weapon. “Everything okay?” he asked tentatively. Only he would have the balls to approach them now.

Seth nodded as David dropped his hand.

Wise man that he was, Chris said nothing of the thunder and tremors that had resulted from Seth’s slip. “All is secure. The compound is ours and we’ve already begun the cleanup.” As his gaze strayed to the three dead men, he swore. “So it was them. How the hell did they regain the information? What did we miss?”

“Nothing,” Seth said, unable to tell him yet that they had been betrayed by one of their own.

Chris scowled. “What do you—?”

“Later,” David said with a shake of his head.

Chris looked from David to Seth and gave a slow nod. “Sure.”

The walkie on his shoulder squawked. Chris mumbled something into it as he left and retraced his steps up the hallway.

Silent, Seth and David followed and stepped through the hole in the front of the building.

The air outside was heavy with the scents of smoke and death. The helicopter Krysta had crashed still burned. Network guards carted bodies to the hangars. More walked the fence and manned the gated entryway. The immortals . . .

The immortals clustered together about twenty yards away, smiling and laughing as Krysta recounted Étienne’s antics in the hangar. Some partook of the blood Chris had brought them. None were sorely wounded. All gave the appearance of being relaxed and pleased with the victory they had achieved.

Normally, Seth would join them, slapping backs and congratulating them on a job well done.

Tonight, however . . .

Tonight he knew that one of them had betrayed him.

How could any of them be working against us? David murmured mentally.

I don’t know, Seth said, already dreading the punishment he would have to deliver.