Darkness Rises

Chapter 14

Krysta stared.

Sean’s pale face rapidly regained color.

Seth removed his hand.

“That’s . . . that’s it?” she asked incredulously. It had only lasted seconds and Seth didn’t show any signs of fatigue at all.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

Unsure whether to believe him, she leaned down and pulled up Sean’s shirt. No wounds marred his skin where hers had opened on his flesh. No bullet wounds. No gashes. No bruises. Only dried blood. “That’s amazing.”

I told you he was powerful, Étienne said.

I know, but . . . damn. “Why isn’t he waking up?” she asked.

Even though Seth had healed him, Sean didn’t stir.

“He expended all of his energy to heal you. He needs rest, so I commanded him to do so.”

“Uh-huh. And, despite the whole unconscious thing, he’s obeying you?”

“It wasn’t that kind of command. You might say I forced sleep upon him.” Seth crossed his arms over his chest. “One more time. What happened?”

Krysta and Étienne took turns telling him what had happened.

The powerful leader of the Immortal Guardians did not seem pleased.

“First,” he said, “you two need to abandon your doubts and insecurities and just get together already. You’re so perfect for each other that you’re finishing each other’s sentences.”

Krysta looked at Étienne, who seemed as taken aback as she felt. “Really?”

“We finish each other’s sentences?” Étienne asked.

She hadn’t realized it either.

“Yes. Second, you left two vampires guarding Krysta?”

Étienne nodded. “It was a risk I had to take. Their thoughts indicated they could be trusted to at least do that much. They were scared shitless and looked to me to get them out of there alive.”

Krysta held up an index finger. “I personally didn’t think I needed a guard.”

“You did,” Seth said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Have Chris outfit you with a pair of Glock 18s with thirty-round clips like Lisette. Guns may not be your weapon of choice for taking out vampires, but they are good for holding off humans. You also should consider, once more, serving as a Second until this new mercenary threat has been extinguished.”

“No, thank you.”

He raised an imperious eyebrow. “You can see vampires coming and know their movements before they make them. But the auras of humans offer you no such warning, do they?”

“No,” she muttered, reluctant to admit it.

“I know you don’t like to hear it, but you are a liability, Krysta. Étienne already has to divide his attention between fighting and reading the minds of as many opponents as he can. Keeping an eye or ear out for you, too, distracts him even more. He could have been hurt far more seriously than he was tonight as a result.”

Her stomach sank as she turned to Étienne. “You were hurt?” Krysta gave him a quick once-over, but there was no way to know how much of the blood painting him was his. And his coat had already sported several bullet holes before the night had begun because he had neither replaced nor mended it after his last encounter with mercenaries. “Where? What happened?”

He glared at Seth. “I’m fine.”

Seth shook his head, strolled around, and placed a hand on Étienne’s chest. That hand began to glow as he healed Étienne’s wounds. “He was shot multiple times by the mercenaries and suffered a few deep gashes at the hands of the vampires before they decided to join forces with you.”

She hadn’t known. She hadn’t even guessed. How many of those injuries had he incurred while he was looking out for her? While he was distracted, listening to ensure the vampires hadn’t either turned on her or abandoned her?

“Don’t,” Étienne said.

“Don’t what?” She looked from him to Sean, lying so still on the bed.

“Krysta,” Étienne said.

All she could do was stare at him, feeling sick inside.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Cam look back and forth between them and clear his throat. “I, uh, I’m going to go see what the word is on the vamps you recruited tonight.” He backed out of the room.

Seth’s hand ceased glowing as he dropped it from Étienne’s chest. “And I am going to go see if you left any mercenaries alive.”

“I did.”

“Then I have some minds to read. Hopefully, when I’m finished, we will know who we are dealing with and how they learned about our existence so we can end this.”

He vanished.

When Étienne walked toward her, Krysta held up a hand to keep him at bay.

Étienne took that hand and carried her palm to his lips for a kiss. “Don’t.”

“You already said that.”

“You’re still doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Beating yourself up. You were injured, too, you know.”

“But that wasn’t your fault,” she said, throat thick.

“Wasn’t it? How long did we walk and watch that campus? The mercenaries were likely there the whole time. But I forgot to use the damned infrared scope to check shadows too dark for my eyes to pierce.”

“Because I distracted you.”

“Because I’m accustomed to not needing it, to depending upon my own enhanced vision. Had I been more thorough, I would have known they were there, summoned aid, and captured them all alive without you suffering a single injury.”

“My being shot wasn’t your fault.”

“And my being shot wasn’t yours.”

“Sean collapsing was.”

“Sean knows his limits.”

“And I pushed him to those limits. You aren’t going to make me feel better about any of this.”

Étienne sighed. “Fine. Then make me feel better about it.” Tugging her hand, he brought her close and wrapped his arms around her.

Krysta leaned into him, locking her arms around his waist.

“I should be angry at you, but not for any of the reasons you think,” he muttered, resting his cheek on her head.

“Why?”

“You actually made me understand Bastien,” he grumbled.

“How so?” she asked, tired, lost.

“Bastien is not my favorite person. Despite what I learned about him recently, I have not been able to abandon my dislike for him entirely because he killed a friend of mine two hundred years ago. But there was a night—before I met you—when he thought the woman he loved had been killed and went berserk in the true sense of the word. He painted UNC red with blood and was coated with it himself by the time I came upon him. I thought he had gone mad. He was, for all intents and purposes, gone, wanting only to kill and punish. And, tonight, when I saw those bullets strike you, I wanted the same. I knew exactly how he felt.” His arms tightened around her. “I wanted to kill every mercenary, then kill every vampire for distracting me so much that I didn’t hear the damned mercenaries’ approach until it was too late. But I couldn’t. I had to think of the fucking greater good,” he said with such disgust that she found a laugh. “I had to take some of them alive.”

“And you did.”

“They’d better damn well yield some information.”

She hoped so. Those bastards had tried to kill her. Again.

The two of them stood that way for Krysta didn’t know how long. A minute passed. Ten? Twenty? She couldn’t tell and didn’t really care.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, unable to calm her thoughts.

Leaning back, he gazed down at her.

His handsome face wavered as moisture welled in her eyes. When a tear slipped over her lashes and trailed down one cheek, he brushed it away with his thumb.

She shook her head. “This is all I’ve known, Étienne, all I’ve done, for six years.”

“You never told me what sparked your vampire-hunting career. Not all of it anyway.”

“I was a student at UNC,” she began, reluctant to revive those memories. “My fiancé and I were walking back to the dorm one night—”

“You were engaged?” he interrupted.

Was that jealousy sharpening his tone?

She nodded. “Michael and his family moved into a house down the street when we were both in the ninth grade. We hit it off from the start, became best friends, and”—she shrugged—“fell in love. We dated throughout high school and intended to marry as soon as we finished college.” It all seemed so long ago. Another life. Another her. She had been so young and naïve and innocent then. Michael had been, too. Looking back, it sometimes felt as though decades had passed since that last night they had been together instead of a mere half dozen years.

Were Michael alive today, she doubted he would even recognize the hardened warrior she had become.

“Anyway, Michael and I were walking back to the dorm when two vampires attacked us. They tortured Michael. And made me watch.” It had been agonizing. And was still agonizing to recall. She doubted any amount of time would alter that or lessen the impact his screams of pain had had on her, though her grief had finally dulled. “Then one bit me and I lost consciousness, I think from blood loss. I don’t know what happened after that, why they let me live. But I never forgot their faces or what they were.”

“I’m surprised you remember it.”

“I don’t think the chemical that you told me is released when vampires or immortals bite someone works on me.” Apparently it acted like GHB and made victims more pliable. It also affected their memories, which explained why none of the victims she had spoken with had had any recollection of being attacked.

“Did you tell anyone?”

“The policeman who took my report at the hospital. He said I had been rufied and was confusing things. He didn’t believe the vampires were real.” Her gaze strayed to the bed. “Sean believed me, but told me I’d be committed if I didn’t stop pushing it.”

“So you decided to hunt them down yourself.”

“Yes. Hunting and destroying vampires is all that has driven me for years. How can I give that up?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. I can’t keep hurting the people I care about. I have to stop.”

“Sean is going to be fine, Krysta.”

She took a chance and met his gaze. “I wasn’t just talking about Sean.”

He stilled.

“Twice now Seth has warned me I’m a liability. By stubbornly insisting on hunting, I’m endangering you.”

“I don’t care about that. I’m immortal. I can take it.” He cupped her face in both hands and studied her intently. “Are you saying you care about me?”

Krysta didn’t think she had ever felt so vulnerable in her life. Not emotionally anyway.

“Never mind,” he said with a gentle smile. “You don’t have to answer that.”

Hell. She was too tired and heartsick to lie or evade. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” she confessed.

He sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes flashed bright amber.

Étienne thought his heart would burst from his chest. “What?” The jealousy that had infiltrated him as she had spoken of Michael fled.

She bit her lip. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“Why?’

“Because it scares the hell out of me.”

He stroked her lovely face with his thumbs. “It scares me, too.”

“Why would it scare you? You’ve probably been with hundreds of women and had dozens of relationships.”

He shook his head. “There have been fewer than you think. And I didn’t love any of them. I fell for you the first night I saw you fight vampires.”

She swallowed. “No, you didn’t.”

“Then why was I so relieved to learn you and Sean were brother and sister, rather than lovers?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m over two hundred years old, Krysta, and have never been so drawn to a woman before, so consumed by thoughts of her or longings for her. I’m falling in love for the first time in my long existence. It’s rather . . . daunting.” Confessing it was even more so.

Reaching up, she pressed her palm to his cheek.

He turned into her touch, nuzzling her soft skin.

“What are we going to do about it?” she asked softly.

“I know what I want to do about it,” he said.

“What?”

“This.” Dipping his head, he brushed his lips against hers.

Étienne hadn’t lied. He had never longed so much for a woman, her company, her touch . . . and that longing magnified a hundredfold when Krysta parted her lips and drew her tongue across his lower lip.

Flames licked his veins as he deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue with his own, eliciting a feminine moan. And, oh, what that moan did to him.

He tightened his hold, pressed her as close to him as he could get her, his body burning at every contact point.

Rising onto her toes, she locked her arms around his neck. His pulse raced as she combed her fingers through his hair and clenched them, giving a light tug, even as she rubbed her hips against his erection.

Oh, yeah.

A throaty laugh escaped her.

“What?” Urging her back against the wall, he slid one hand down over her tempting ass and ground her against him. Damn, she felt good.

“You project your thoughts when you’re turned on,” she purred.

He smiled. “So do you.”

Obeying one of those thoughts, which mirrored his own desires, he found one of her breasts with his free hand. Small and firm, it fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, just as he had known it would. He teased her nipple, hard beneath her shirt and sports bra. Stroked it. Pinched it.

She moaned and strained closer, her heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his own chest. More.

He lowered his fingers to the hem of her shirt, slipped his hand beneath it and smoothed it up her warm, satiny skin. Squeezing beneath her tight sports bra, he again palmed her breast.

She gasped. Releasing his hair, she lowered one hand to his chest.

At first, he thought she meant to stop him. She covered his hand with hers over her bra, squeezed. Then, she moved on, forging a burning path down his stomach to cup his heavy erection.

He groaned and thrust against her.

Smiling against his lips, she drew her hand back.

Étienne’s heart damned near stopped when she slid one leg up his and hooked it over his hip, opening herself to him. Urged on by her thoughts and her delicious body, he rocked against her.

Both moaned this time, loving it, needing it, equally frustrated by the cloth that separated them.

Trailing his lips across her cheek, he licked and kissed his way down to the soft skin at the base of her neck. “Wrap both legs around me,” he whispered.

Krysta’s already racing heart went wild at the hoarse request. Without hesitating, she jumped up and wrapped her other leg around his hips.

A breeze whipped her as their surroundings blurred. Then she found herself in another bedroom. Very masculine. Very posh. Very neat for the bedroom of a longtime bachelor.

She met Étienne’s glowing gaze.

“I want to make love to you,” he stated boldly.

She swallowed hard and nodded. She wanted it, too.

“Call me crazy,” he added, “but I didn’t want to do it in front of your brother.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, crap.” She had been crawling all over Étienne with Sean lying in bed just a few feet away. “How did you make me forget about him?”

He shook his head and strolled toward the bed, every movement creating lip-biting friction between their bodies. “I would have forgotten myself if my hearing weren’t acute enough to pick up his breathing and heartbeat.”

He stopped beside the bed.

Krysta lowered her legs to the floor and stood for a moment, staring up at him, her body tingling and aching for his touch.

“You can change your mind,” he murmured, so damned sweet and understanding it only made her want him more.

She shook her head. “I want this.” Again, she reached up and stroked his face, “I want you.”

For a moment, he looked so hungry for her she thought he might pounce.

Then a teasing gleam entered his luminous eyes. “Want to see a neat trick?”

Raising her eyebrows, she smiled. “Okay.”

He blurred. She felt a tug.

In a blink, they were both naked, clothing and weapons scattered around their feet.

He laughed. “I’ve never seen you so wide-eyed.”

“That is awesome!” she praised.

Grinning, he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed.

Krysta shrieked with delight as he dove after her.

“Shoes on or off?” he asked.

She laughed when she realized they both still wore their boots. “Off.”

Sitting up, he quickly doffed his own, then turned his attention to hers.

She liked this playful side of him. Liked the feel of his large, warm hands grasping her calf as he removed first one shoe, then the other.

His gaze roved her body, splayed out before him like a banquet, scorching her and making her squirm with the need to feel all of that hard, muscled flesh against her.

And, just like that, all levity was shoved aside by lust.

He peeled a sock off, kissed her ankle, lowered her foot to one side of him. Peeling the second sock off, he kissed that ankle and lowered her foot to the other side of him. He smoothed his hands up her calves, up her thighs, his thumbs coming so close to the heart of her.

Damn, she wanted him.

He growled, exciting her even more. “Now you’re the one projecting.”

Her breath caught as he rose above her and settled his big, warm body between her thighs.

Étienne wanted Krysta so badly he nearly shook with it as he palmed one of her breasts.

Lowering his head, he drew the hard tip of her other breast into his mouth, loving the feel of her writhing beneath him. His fangs descended, as they often did when he experienced strong emotion, but he was careful not to let them pierce her soft skin.

“Are you hearing my thoughts?” she asked, her small hands exploring his back and hips.

“Yes.” They fired his need as much as her touch did.

“Then you know what I want,” she gasped, burying her hands in his hair as he teased her nipple with his tongue.

Fast and hard.

The thought came through loud and clear.

Reaching down between them, he found her already wet and eager for his touch, arching up when his fingers found her clit.

Now, she insisted. Please, Étienne. I want you now.

Hell, yeah.

Positioning his cock at her entrance, he met her gaze and slowly pressed forward. An inch. Then another. And another. Slowly stretching her. Savoring the feel of her.

She groaned. “You’re killing me.”

He winked, struggling to maintain his tenuous hold on control. “But what a way to go.”

She laughed.

He plunged inside to the hilt.

Both gasped.

She was so warm and wet and tight.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

Krysta shook her head, catching the concern in his eyes as he gazed down at her. She hadn’t been with anyone in a long time and Étienne was big, but . . . “You feel so good,” she breathed.

He withdrew, almost leaving her entirely, then thrust again. Hard.

“Oh, yeah.” She slid her hands down that wide, muscled back and over his ass as he thrust again. “Yessss.”

He thrust again, sending sparks of pleasure dancing through her.

“Again,” she urged, wanting more, needing more.

And he gave her what she wanted.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking her lips in a passionate kiss. “The things I want to do to you . . .”

“Tell me,” she panted, pleasure mounting.

He did. In explicit detail. Making blood rush to her face and her body burn hotter as he explored her flesh with his hands and that wicked mouth, continuing those long, deep thrusts until an orgasm ripped through her, stealing her breath and wringing a cry from her lips.

As her body continued to ripple with sensation, he stiffened above her and cried out with his own. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to hers, those strong arms keeping the bulk of his weight off of her.

Her own chest rose and fell so fast one would think she had just run a marathon. Heart still pounding, peace sifting through her, Krysta was content to just lie quietly and enjoy the moment.

Her hands didn’t quite get the message, though. She couldn’t resist the need to slowly slide them up and down his back, loving the feel of all of that strength above her.

At last he raised his head. The amber glow in the eyes that met hers had lessened, allowing some of the brown to seep through.

He stroked her hair, both his touch and his expression tender. “Okay?”

She didn’t know if he was asking if she was okay physically—it had been a long time and he hadn’t exactly been gentle, giving her exactly what she had wanted—or if she was okay emotionally. But the answer to both was, “More than okay.”

He smiled and delivered a gentle kiss that stole her heart. Then he dipped his head and kissed her shoulder, where she had been shot.

Rolling them to their sides, he settled his head close to hers on the pillow.

His brow furrowed. “No lingering pain from your injuries?”

“No.” Which made her realize . . .

“What?” he asked, recognizing her unease.

She bit her lip. “Is it weird that we didn’t wash the blood off first?” Both had been wounded. And, though their wounds had been healed, smudges of dried blood remained where bullets and blades had marked them.

“No,” he responded, the lack of concern in his voice a relief. “The blood is ours and we’re both so accustomed to seeing it that it means little to us. And, on my part at least, I wanted you so badly that I could think of nothing else.”

She smiled. “Me, too.”

A teasing glint once more entered his light brown eyes. “If, however, it troubles you, I think there is only one thing we must do.”

“What’s that?” she asked with false gravity.

“Head in there . . .” he pointed to a door across the room that opened onto a bathroom.

“Okay.”

“Immerse ourselves in the cleansing waters of a whirlpool bath . . .”

“I’m liking it so far.”

“Bathe every inch of each other’s body . . .”

“Really liking it.”

“Then make love again, giving me a chance to do some of those things I mentioned wanting to do to you.”

Her pulse jumped. “Go get the water running,” she encouraged him in a throaty voice she barely recognized as her own.

Grinning, he stole a kiss, then leapt naked from the bed, giving her an eyeful of aroused immortal male as he headed into the bathroom.

Smiling, Krysta scooted off the bed and followed.

Seth felt his fury rise as he examined the unconscious mercenaries. There were eight of them being held in one of the holding rooms designed for vampires at network headquarters. All were chained together and lay on cots that had been hastily erected. Not to make the men more comfortable, he suspected, but so he wouldn’t have to kneel down to read their minds if touching them became necessary.

Two of the mercenaries were brain-damaged. The immortals were still having trouble determining how hard they could hit humans without killing them or rendering them useless.

He rested his palm on the forehead of a third, then a fourth, a fifth, his anger mounting.

He turned to face his companions.

Chris, Bastien, and Melanie all took a cautious step backward.

Bastien wrapped a protective arm around Melanie’s shoulders.

Seth drew in a deep breath and let some of the rage drain out of him. “There’s nothing.”

Bastien frowned. “Did Richart and Étienne hit them too hard?”

“A couple of them. But those who are merely unconscious yield no information that can aid us. They don’t know who their commander is. They don’t know the name of his operation. And they don’t know where it is located.”

Chris swore. “How the hell is that possible?”

“Each one of them was recruited from another PMC, except for that one. He’s an army veteran. Chris, I’d like to see if we can’t win him over to our side. He seems like a good man. He’s just been misled.”

Chris nodded.

“All are single—no families—and were approached by a man who claimed he worked for an elite Private Military Company that regularly received government contracts. He told them he had a highly secretive mission that involved homeland security.”

“Was he bullshitting?” Chris asked.

“We won’t know for sure until we confront their commander. Once they consented, he sedated them and took them to the compound from which they operate. They travel to and from it either blindfolded or in windowless transport vehicles. They don’t know where it is. And they don’t know who he is. He gave them a code name.”

Bastien frowned. “Are they stupid? How can they just go gunning for people based on something someone they can’t even identify told them?”

“They aren’t stupid. Just gullible. Mostly. Those three there would shoot their own grandmother for a paycheck. And they were offered a big paycheck.”

“How big?” Melanie asked.

“The equivalent of a Second’s salary.”

Chris whistled. “So whoever these guys are, they’re very well funded.”

“Which makes them even more dangerous,” Seth finished for him. More money meant more resources.

Bastien released Melanie and strolled forward to scowl down at the men. “So there’s nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you see the face of the man who recruited them?”

“Yes. I don’t recognize him.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.”

Bastien combed his fingers through his long hair. “If these men know nothing, we have no reason to believe any of the others will tell us anything.”

“Precisely.”

Quiet filled the room as brows furrowed.

They had been operating on the assumption that, if they could capture one of the mercenaries, Seth could learn the whereabouts of the group and they could swoop in and kill them.

And they did intend to kill them this time. All of them.

Chris’s face suddenly brightened. “Tracking devices.”

Seth tilted his head to one side. “What?”

“Their minds may not be able to tell us where their base is, but their bodies can. We do to them what they did to us. Plant tracking devices on them and let them lead us home.”

Seth met Bastien’s gaze. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Bastien nodded. “They think we’re monsters. I doubt they would credit us with the forethought it would take to turn the tables on them.”

Melanie didn’t look convinced. “What if they’re more paranoid than that? What if they check the men with metal detectors the way Chris checked these and the vampires you brought in?”

Bastien shrugged. “Plant the devices on their weapons. I’m sure they disarm before they’re scanned. If they’re scanned.”

Chris smiled. “You devious bastard. That would work.”

Bastien raised an eyebrow. “Is it doable?”

“Hell, yes. You saw how small the one the mercenaries used was. My tech guys can duplicate that and make it magnetic,” Chris said. “Would you and the other immortals be able to plant them on the weapons without them knowing?”

“To quote you, Hell, yes.”

Seth nodded. It was a solid plan. And it was good to see these two working together and leaving past animosities behind them. He clapped Bastien on the back and looked to Chris. “Put your men on it immediately and distribute the devices to all of the immortals in the area when you have enough. Their Seconds, too.”

“I’m on it. What do you want me to do with these guys?”

“Hold them for now. Preferably elsewhere so their complaints and shouting, once they awaken, won’t disturb the vampires.”

Chris nodded. “When Bastien started talking about recruiting vampires, I bought an abandoned missile silo and outfitted it with all of the trappings of a vampire’s prison in case the shit hit the fan. Do you want me to transfer them there?”

Once more, Chris had thought of everything. He was a damned good man to have on their side. “Sounds perfect. We’ll decide what to do with them after we discover who their commander is. Keep the veteran comfortable, though. The others are in it for the money. He’s in it to protect his country.” And he likely would be the only one Seth would let live . . . if the man joined them.

“And the vamps?” Chris asked.

“I’ll see to them next.”

Bastien took a step forward. “They seem sincere in their desire to side with us against the mercenaries.” He wanted so badly to help vampires, having seen firsthand so many fight the madness that infects them.

Seth looked to Chris. “Would adding new apartments be a problem?”

Chris glanced at Bastien. “This far underground, it would be a bit of a challenge, but it’s possible.” He met Seth’s gaze. “I’m more concerned about security. If you give all of them the okay, we’ll have seven vampires living here amongst the human employees. We’ve given Cliff and Stuart more leeway lately and let them move around more freely on this floor. We can’t do that with seven vamps. Not unless you start assigning immortals to serve as guards. Two vampires against three dozen human guards armed with automatic weapons and tranquilizer guns won’t win. Seven might.”

Seth corrected him. “Three dozen guards and one immortal. Melanie is very strong. As strong as Roland despite her youth.”

Chris swore. “I keep forgetting she’s immortal now.”

“And Bastien lingers here most nights.”

Bastien caught Seth’s gaze and tapped his temple. Can you hear me?

Yes.

Would you take the four of us somewhere private for a moment? Somewhere the vamps can’t hear us.

Seth teleported them to Chris’s home and used telekinesis to flick on the lights.

Giving their surroundings a hasty inspection, Melanie wrinkled her nose.

Bastien took in the piles of clothes, stacks of papers, discarded pizza boxes, and assorted other crap that cluttered the living room floor and furniture and frowned. “Where the hell are we?”

“My home,” Chris said, glaring at Seth, “and don’t say a word.”

Bastien wisely held his tongue. “Look, the whole purpose of recruiting vampires is to get them to help us spread the word and get other vampires to avoid the mercenaries. Or help us fight as they did tonight, if it comes to that. They can’t do that cooped up at the network.”

Seth agreed. “What do you propose?”

“I think we should see if Melanie can find a way to surgically implant tracking devices on the vampires, so we can turn them loose every night.”

Melanie regarded him with surprise.

“Richart can teleport them to my old lair each evening, so they won’t be able to disclose the location of the network. They can then roam where they will and get the word out to other vampires. When they return to my lair before dawn, Richart can then bring them back.”

Chris arched a brow. “And we’ll just go on faith that they aren’t preying upon innocents while they’re roaming where they will and getting the word out?”

“We can reduce the chances of that by keeping them supplied with blood at the network and having Lisette or Étienne read their thoughts nightly or weekly, however you want to do it. I’ll hunt while the vamps are out and about. And, when they’re not, I’ll serve as guard at the network. At least while Melanie is working.”

Chris gaped at him. “You serve as guard? Are you shitting me?”

Bastien shrugged. “It would allow me to spend more time with Melanie. Cliff and Stuart like me being around. The new vamps will likely be more comfortable with me around. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Yeah,” Chris said, “except most of the emergencies we’ve had at the network in recent years—which spawned many injuries and a hell of a lot of damage to the property—were instigated by you.”

“So?”

Chris just pointed at Bastien and looked at Seth.

Seth shrugged. “Bastien is with Melanie now. He has a vested interest in keeping things calm and safe around there. And, if he gets out of hand himself, Melanie will kick his ass.”

Melanie smiled.

Bastien grinned. “She’s strong enough to do it, too.”

Chris shook his head. “You are so fucking weird. Fine. Seth, if you want the new vampires to live at the network with the others, I’ll begin construction on the apartments as soon as you give me the go-ahead.”

“Go ahead.”

“Done. What about Bastien’s desire to let the vamps roam North Carolina freely?”

“Let’s wait on that, give the vamps some time to settle in, and see if Melanie will be able to make the tracking devices work.”

She bit her lip. “The challenge will be finding a way to keep the virus from expelling the devices the way it does bullets and other foreign objects . . . without the aid of the tranquilizer, that is. We know the tranquilizer slows down the healing process, and could probably help, but the vamps will need their wits if they’re going to be mingling with other vampires.”

“And they can’t know about them,” Chris added, “or they’ll just dig them out.”

“I’ll bury the memory of them,” Seth said.

Bastien spoke up. “If she can make it work, I’d like to take Cliff and Stuart hunting with me while the other vampires are out spreading the word.”

Chris stared at him. “Hunting? You want vampires to help you hunt and destroy other vampires?”

“Yes.”

“In violent, bloody battles, armed with weapons.”

“Yes. Both Cliff and Stuart have proven their loyalty to us.”

The two vamps had indeed proven their loyalty, but . . . “Cliff has been infected long enough to suffer the consequences,” Seth reminded him gently. He didn’t need to see the MRIs to know the damage had begun.

“I know. But he’s holding it together,” Bastien insisted. “And I think he’ll hold it together a little longer if he can get some fresh air and exercise. He’s been cooped up at the network too long without reprieve.”

Bastien loved Cliff like a brother. A quick look into his thoughts told Seth Bastien wanted the young vampire to experience a last taste of freedom before the madness claimed him. And Seth, after his own attempts to help the young vampire, held the same desire. Cliff had proven to be incredibly strong and fierce in his determination to hold off the madness. It was going to break Bastien’s heart when he finally lost the battle. Melanie’s, too.

“If Cliff broke and made a run for it, do you think you could catch him?” Seth asked.

“Yes.” And the dread in Bastien’s face and voice told them all without words that he would do what had to be done when he caught him, just as he had with Vince.

Melanie took his hand.

“Very well,” Seth decreed. “Cliff has always been loyal to you, Sebastien. You need not wait and can begin taking him hunting with you now. Stuart and the others, however, will have to wait for the tracking devices.”

“Thank you.”

The fact that Chris made no objection confirmed that even he had a soft spot for Cliff.

“Excellent. I’ll meet with the vampires now.”

“May I accompany you?” Bastien asked.

Seth grinned as Chris’s mouth fell open once more. “Melanie has been a good influence on you.”

Bastien grimaced and swore. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

“What?”

“Being nice,” he said with much disgust.

Melanie smiled.

Seth laughed. “Yes.” He teleported them back to the holding room with the mercenaries. “Shall we?” He could have just popped them into the room with the vampires, but knew the network guards liked to keep track of their movements for safety’s sake.

Bastien kissed Melanie, then led Seth out into the hallway and to the holding room next door.

Melanie returned to her office while Chris headed for the elevators.

A guard standing in front of the vampires’ holding room took a security card from his pocket.

Seth shook his head and waved a hand in front of the lock. A thunk sounded. Opening the heavy door, he stepped inside, Bastien right on his heels.

A thought closed the door behind them.

Five vampires stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes wide with trepidation, heavy titanium chains weighing down their right arms and anchoring them to the walls.

Seth said nothing as he scanned their minds.

The virus had not progressed far in these. The brain damage was minimal. They must have all been turned during the past year.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Seth, leader of the Immortal Guardians.”

They exchanged nervous looks.

One wearing a Tar Heels T-shirt swallowed. “Are you the one they call the Day Walker?”

“Yes.”

“Why do they call you that?” another asked.

Seth glanced at Bastien, who clapped a hand to his forehead. “Because I can walk in daylight,” he explained.

“Ohhhhhhh.”

Okay, so he wasn’t the smartest kid Seth had encountered. At least he wasn’t manic.