Darkness Rises

Chapter 12

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.

“Aw, come on, Bastien,” the African-American vampire complained. “We were just razzing the new guy.”

“You’re lucky the new guy isn’t carrying. Get back to the lab.”

The White vampire grumbled something and dashed away. The other vampire grinned at Sean and shrugged. “Things were getting boring around here. No hard feelings?”

Before Sean could answer, he, too, darted away.

Sean stepped off the elevator with Cam. Just outside, a dozen men stood at the ready, faces tense, fingers on the triggers of their automatic weapons.

“Relax,” Bastien told Sean. “Those two are harmless.”

Sean tilted his head in the direction of the guards. “If the vampires are harmless, why are these guys so tense?”

He smirked. “They aren’t worried about the vampires. They’re worried about me.” He blurred, zipping down the hallway after the vamps.

Cam cleared his throat. “Would you like to meet Dr. Lipton now?”

“Um. Okay. Sure.”

This shit was weird.

More guards lined the hallway.

They nodded as Cam and Sean passed, boots clomping on the industrial-grade linoleum floor.

“Is security always this tight?” Sean marveled.

“Only when Bastien visits.”

A sardonic laugh floated through an open doorway coming up on their right.

Cam led the way inside what ended up being a large lab with every kind of medical testing equipment a doctor could wish for. The vampire practical jokers appeared to be doing everything they could to burn out the motors on two treadmills placed side by side. A brunet in a lab coat leaned over a desk, writing something in a file while Bastien lounged in a chair nearby, admiring her.

“Dr. Lipton?” Cam said.

Straightening, she turned around. Her furrowed brow cleared as her face brightened with a smile. “Hi, Cam.” Setting her pen down, she crossed to them and offered Sean her hand. “We weren’t formally introduced last night. I’m Melanie. You’re Sean, right?”

He smiled and shook her hand. “Yes.”

“So nice to meet you.” She motioned to the vampires. “Those two are Cliff and Stuart. Cliff’s on the left,” she said, indicating the grinning African American. “Stuart’s on the right.” Both vampires’ legs moved so quickly that they blurred, while their upper bodies remained almost stationary. It was a bizarre effect. “And this is my husband Bastien,” she finished.

Sean nodded to Bastien and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Face darkening, Bastien rose. “What—are you fucking with me?”

Melanie’s eyes widened. Reaching out, she patted Bastien’s arm. “No, honey. I think he hasn’t heard the rumors yet.”

“What rumors?” Sean asked, wondering what was going on.

Bastien’s face cleared. “Oh. Well. Good to meet you, too.” He belatedly shook Sean’s hand.

Cam rolled his eyes. “I’m out. Sean, you have my number. Call me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll come pick you up.”

Sean thanked him, even though the fact that he couldn’t come and go as he pleased grated. He had no idea what the network had done with his car, but he wasn’t allowed to use it anymore because it could be traced. When he had suggested borrowing or renting a car, Chris had rejected the idea, saying, “I know it’s an annoyance, but until we get to the bottom of this latest mercenary threat, we need to restrict your movements and ensure you have a guard with you at all times. It’s for both your safety and ours.”

Annoyance didn’t quite cover it.

Cam left.

Sean looked at the vampires. “What exactly will this tell you? Are you testing their endurance?” he asked, curious to know what such activity would indicate.

Melanie snorted. “No. They’re just fooling around. Cliff bet Stuart he could go faster on a treadmill.”

The vampires grinned.

“Okay.”

Bastien smiled. “They aren’t allowed to leave the premises, so things can get pretty boring around here for them.”

“They’re really vampires and not immortals just messing with me?” Sean asked. The pair didn’t seem at all crazy.

Bastien shook his head. “They’re vampires. And, since you’ll hear it sooner or later . . .”

Melanie shook her head violently and repeatedly drew her hand across her throat in a slicing motion. When she noticed Sean watching her, she smiled and pretended she was scratching her neck.

“Until a couple of years ago,” Bastien continued, “I thought I was a vampire myself, raised an army of a hundred or so vampires, and waged war with the Immortal Guardians, intending to kill every last one of them.”

Sean stared at him. No wonder the other immortals had seemed rather hostile toward Bastien at the meeting.

“Damn it, Bastien,” Melanie complained. “We could have finally had someone on our side, but, nooooo. You had to go and open your mouth.”

He shrugged. “May as well be honest. It sounds a lot less damaging coming from me.” He looked at Sean again. “Oh, and I once killed an immortal.”

Melanie hit him on the arm. “Stop talking!”

Sean laughed. As did the vampires.

She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. He really is a good guy. But I’m having trouble convincing the others of that.”

“Well, you won’t be getting any grief from me,” Sean assured her. When Bastien looked doubtful, Sean shrugged. “I’m new to this world and not invested in its past. As long as you don’t screw with me or my sister, I’m fine with you.”

Bastien raised his eyebrows. “I think I like you.”

“Gay!” Stuart called breathlessly. A loud clunk sounded as the motor of his treadmill let out a burst of smoke and stopped turning. Still running at top speed, Stuart slammed into the front of the treadmill, bounced off, and hit the wall behind him hard enough to crack the Sheetrock.

Cliff burst into laughter and slowed to a halt.

Melanie sighed. “I told you not to break anything!”

Stuart groaned and picked himself up off the floor, staggering a little. “Laugh it up, asswipe,” he told Cliff. “I won.”

“Dude, I totally let you win because I knew that would happen.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. It happened to me the first time Dr. Lipton put me on a treadmill.”

Melanie winced. “I still feel bad about that.”

Cliff didn’t seem to hold it against her.

Bastien smiled. “Cliff was a member of my army. Stuart is a new recruit.”

This was not at all what Sean had expected.

Melanie smiled. “You look a little shell-shocked.”

He watched Cliff taunt Stuart while Stuart brushed the dust off his clothes and shook it out of his hair. “I’ve never encountered sane vampires before.”

“Well, hopefully our research will pay off and the era of psychotic vampires will end soon,” she said.

“I’d love to hear about the work you’re doing. I’m a medical student at Duke and Chris mentioned recruiting me. He said, if I did, we’d be working together and you’d mentor me.”

She nodded. “Are you considering it?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent!” Grinning, she started toward him.

Bastien scowled. “Hug him and I’ll have to kill him.”

She stopped and blew him a raspberry. “Spoilsport.”

“A jealous spoilsport.” Bastien drew her into his arms. “It’s time for me to hunt.”

“Okay. Do you have the antidote on you?”

“Yes.”

She bussed his lips. “Be safe.”

“Always.” He claimed her lips in a kiss that lingered. “I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you.” Crossing to a coat stand just inside the door, he removed a long, black coat. The interior was lined with as many weapons as Étienne’s was.

Delving into an outer pocket, Bastien returned to Melanie and held out several small packages.

Melanie took one and turned it over. “No way! Organic chocolate turtles?”

He nodded and smiled.

Whooping with excitement, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist for a tight hug.

Bastien laughed and hugged her back.

As soon as she dropped her feet to the floor, she tore into the first package and popped the whole candy into her mouth. Her eyes closed in ecstasy. “Oh man,” she said around a mouthful of chocolate. “This is so good.”

Sean raised his eyebrows.

Meeting his gaze, she covered her mouth and laughed.

Bastien shook his head with a smile and crossed his arms over his chest.

She chewed and swallowed. “I haven’t been immortal that long and had to give up all of my favorite foods, so I’ve been craving them like crazy.”

“Why did you have to give up all of your favorite foods?”

“Because none of them were organic. Our stupid sense of taste is just as heightened as our vision and our sense of smell. And, trust me when I say, foods that contain artificial flavoring and other synthetic chemicals do not taste the same as the real deal. As Bastien once warned me, vanilla and synthetic vanillin taste as different to us as turkey and tofurky do to you.” She stuffed another chocolate turtle in her mouth and endeavored to speak around it. “Bastien’s been looking for organic alternatives to some of my favorites and I love turtles.”

Laughing, Bastien cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “You are too adorable.” He kissed her again, longer and deeper. “You taste good, too.”

Her cheeks flushed as he released her.

Bastien nodded at Sean. “Have fun.” He pointed to the vampires. “You two . . . behave. And leave Melanie’s candy alone. She can kick your ass without a thought now.”

Cliff and Stuart clicked their heels together and saluted.

Shaking his head, Bastien left.

Melanie wadded up the empty packages and tossed them into a wastebasket on the other side of the room.

“Nice,” Sean praised with a smile.

“Thanks. I imagine you have some questions.”

“About a hundred of them.”

Smiling, she motioned to a couple of chairs over by a desk. “What would you like to know first?”

He waited for her to sit, then seated himself beside her. “Well, I’ve always wanted to know why I can heal with my hands.”

She dropped the rest of the candy packages on the desk and leaned forward, her face lighting with interest. “You can heal with your hands?”

He nodded.

“That’s wonderful. Two gifted ones who are descendants of a powerful healer just came to our attention recently, but neither can heal with their hands.”

Cliff dragged a chair over to join them. “So, you can just lay hands on a wound and heal it?” He sat down. “That’s so cool. I wish I could do that.”

Stuart nodded as he pulled up another chair. “Me, too.” Seating himself, he surreptitiously reached toward the candy on the desk.

“Touch it and die,” Melanie warned without looking at him.

He snatched his hand back.

“Now,” she said. “You can heal with your hands because your DNA is very unique. Every human has forty-six DNA memo groups that provide the blueprint for his or her existence.”

“Okay,” Sean said.

“Gifted ones have seven thousand.”

“Awesome!” Stuart said. “I don’t know what that means.”

Sean wasn’t sure he did either. “Why?”

She shook her head. “We aren’t sure.”

Fascinated by the information he proceeded to acquire, Sean spent the next several hours alone in a room, conversing with a beautiful immortal and two curious, genial vampires with a fondness for practical jokes.

It was the strangest night of his life.

Étienne smiled faintly. He and Krysta sat on the edge of Davis Library’s roof at UNC Chapel Hill. It had taken some coaxing to get her to do it, and then to relax. Like many humans, she had a fear of heights.

It isn’t so much a fear of heights, she had said, as a fear of plunging to my death.

I won’t let you fall, he had vowed.

It meant a great deal to him that she had believed him, sitting down, then shakily scooting to the edge and dangling her legs over the side.

Tranquility embraced them, broken by a dog bark here, a cat yowl there, or the occasional vehicle passing on the street.

They had been hunting and training together for almost two weeks now while Sean studied with Dr. Lipton. Étienne had not enjoyed anything so much in decades.

Moments like this were his favorites.

Her shoulder pressed against his arm. Her scent enveloped him, mingling with the chicken sandwiches Cam had made them. Her mere presence provided a balm he hadn’t realized he had needed. Calming. Comforting. Dispelling the emptiness inside him.

“I love hunting with you,” she said, reaching for the bottle of tea on her other side.

His pulse leapt.

“I haven’t eaten this much or this well since I lived with my parents,” she continued with a wry smile.

He laughed. For a moment, he had thought—

Her eyes widened as alarm rippled across her moonlit features. “Oh, crap. My parents!”

“What about them?”

“What if the mercenaries go after them to get to me. Or to get to you through me?”

He waved a hand. “Chris took care of that when you and Sean moved in with me. Your parents are heavily guarded at all times.”

“Really?” Frowning, she took another bite and chewed it thoughtfully. “I’m surprised they haven’t called. What did they say about it? I haven’t talked to them in almost three weeks. Mom has a knack for sensing when something is wrong and I didn’t know what to say to her when she asked what was up.”

“They don’t know about the network guards. Chris’s men are in stealth mode.”

She took another bite.

He liked that she had a strong appetite. He didn’t know why he enjoyed watching her eat so much, but he did. Perhaps because he knew she and Sean had had some lean times.

“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.

Okay. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you failed to agree.

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.

Stubborn.

And you aren’t?

She looped her arms around his neck.

Ready?

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.