Darkness Rises

Chapter 3

Étienne glanced at his twin as they arrived in David’s large living room. “Are you the smart-ass who changed my ringtone?”

“Someone changed your ringtone?” Richart asked. “To what?”

“Never mind.”

Darnell approached, a tiny kitten in each hand. “Okay, which one do you want?”

Étienne reached for the little gray and white one. “We’re really doing this?”

“Yes.”

A faint, high-pitched scream came from Étienne’s pocket, accompanied by a drumbeat. “There are squirrels in my pants!” a girl cried as Phineas and Ferb’s “Squirrels in My Pants” song began blaring from his phone.

Every immortal in the room turned to look at him.

Étienne scowled at his brother.

Laughing, Richart closed his cell phone and put it away. “I didn’t change it. I just wanted to know what it was.”

“Asshole.” He took the ridiculously small bottle of milk Darnell handed him. “As I was saying, we’re really doing this?”

“Every two hours.”

He groaned. He could still be chatting up Krysta if he didn’t have to play feline nursemaid.

“How much has David done for you over the centuries?” Darnell retorted, his shaved, brown head gleaming in the overhead light.

“A hell of a lot,” Étienne answered without hesitation. David was like Seth. He gave everything he had to the Immortal Guardians and those who aided them.

“And what has he asked in return?” Darnell continued.

“Not a damned thing.”

“Exactly. So feed the kitten.”

Étienne cuddled the mewling little bundle of fur to his chest. “Done.”

Richart took the orange and white kitten and did the same.

“Every two hours, guys,” Darnell reminded them again as they crossed the room and sank down beside Lisette on one of the sofas.

Roland and Sarah fed two kittens on another sofa.

Roland was quite possibly the most aggravating, antisocial immortal on the planet. Seeing him cuddle and nurture a black and white kitten that could fit in the palm of his hand was nothing short of bizarre.

Grunts and thumps floated up from downstairs, where Seconds sparred in the training room.

Ami entered, carrying Slim. That scrawny little feline didn’t look fully grown either, though it had long since reached adulthood. It also bore several bare patches, scars, and cuts from its most recent fights with whatever woodland creature it had felt ventured too close to Slim’s new territory: David’s property.

“Hi, Ami,” Sarah called with a smile.

“Hi.”

The men all echoed the greeting.

Every male Immortal Guardian in North Carolina adored the two women. They loved Sarah for being the first gifted one in history to ask to be infected so she could spend eternity with Roland’s antisocial ass. They loved Ami for . . . well . . . being Ami.

She was so sweet and shy. And fucking ferocious on the battlefield. A mere week after being named Marcus’s Second, she had helped him stand against and defeat thirty-four vampires. Thirty-four. No mortal had ever attempted such a feat. Hell, no immortal had either until then. Except, perhaps, for Seth or David. Those two had lived thousands of years. Étienne didn’t know half of what they had done.

“Where’s Marcus?” Sarah asked.

“Out hunting.”

“How did he get out of kitten duty?” Roland asked dourly, even though everyone here could clearly see he had a soft spot for animals.

Ami stroked Slim’s fur. “Slim doesn’t like smelling other cats on him.”

Étienne suspected there was more to it than that, but didn’t say anything. Marcus had been giving off all kinds of stress vibes lately.

“In fact, I’m going to take Slim out for a jaunt until you’re finished in here. I think he needs a break.”

Slim chose that moment to emit a peculiar howl.

Chuckles circled the room as she passed through the kitchen, then exited through the back door.

Stepping out into the brisk wind, Ami set Slim down on the back deck and gave his skinny little butt a pat. “All right, you crazy kitty. Have fun.”

Perking up, he meowed and trotted down the steps into the darkened yard.

Ami stood still for a moment, enjoying the night.

Quiet engulfed her. Since she didn’t have the superior hearing of immortals, the conversations of those within couldn’t reach her out here. Only the rustling of leaves that fluttered in the breeze broke the silence.

Retrieving the lightweight aluminum ladder kept on the deck, she descended the porch steps and walked around to the side of the house. The ladder was just tall enough to reach the roof. Ami leaned it up against the gutters and gave it a shake to ensure it was steady before she placed her foot on the first rung and began to climb.

At the top, she peered over the edge of the roof, already knowing whom she would find seated upon it.

As usual, he wore black leather pants and nothing else. A pair of beautiful wings, as tan as his skin at their base and darkening to black at their tips, were folded against his back. His shoulder-length, wavy, black hair danced in the wind.

Hi, she greeted him mentally.

He shook his head. How do you always know I’m here? Rising, he strode silently across the roof, took her hand, and helped her the rest of the way up.

I know your energy signature now.

His brow furrowed. I’m glad Seth can’t detect me so easily. I doubt he’d respond well to learning I’ve been . . . visiting.

She thought he might be right on that one. Her husband Marcus wouldn’t either, if he knew.

Seating herself, Ami waited for Zach to reclaim his spot, then withdrew two lollipops from her jacket.

His lips tilted up in a faint smile. Which one do I want tonight?

She offered him a green one. Apple.

The smell of fresh fruit—Granny Smith apples and ripe strawberries—filled the air as they unwrapped their treats and let the flavors coat their tongues.

This was the sixth or seventh time she had met him up here. She alone seemed capable of detecting his presence.

She still didn’t know who he was, but sensed he posed no threat to her.

He rarely spoke. That didn’t bother her though. She hadn’t been much of a talker either after Seth and David had rescued her from her torturers. And the first time she had met Zach he had been riddled with wounds and trembling with pain.

Ami understood pain.

She also understood a reluctance to trust.

Wind buffeted her, rocking her on her perch.

Zach unfurled his wings to shield her from the breeze.

So, he drawled, surprising her, how are you?

She turned her head and found him studying her intently. You know? she asked.

About your pregnancy? Yes.

Only a handful of people had been told, so either he had overheard it or he had detected the baby’s heartbeat and, unlike the others, knew it didn’t belong to one of the kittens.

Dr. Lipton said the baby has a strong, healthy heartbeat.

I didn’t ask about the baby. I asked about you. How are you doing?

Shrugging, she lowered her gaze to the lollipop wrapper and began to fold and unfold it. The nausea is pretty bad. Lollipops are the only sweet things I can stand to smell or eat. Anything else makes me throw up. As did most foods. Marcus was worried that she wasn’t getting enough nutrition, because almost everything she put in her stomach came right back up again.

Are you afraid? he asked softly.

Ami’s throat thickened. Her vision grew hazy as tears welled in her eyes. Raising her head, she met his gentle gaze. Terrified.

Zach’s chest constricted when tears spilled over her lashes and trailed down her cheeks. Ami was the kindest, gentlest mortal he had encountered in his long existence. Ironically, she was also one of the fiercest, most determined fighters. To see her so vulnerable made his heart hurt.

And Zach hadn’t even realized he had a heart.

I wish I could see the future, he said, so I could tell you how this will turn out.

She smiled and brushed at her cheeks. At least you didn’t tell me everything will be all right.

Is that what your husband does? he asked curiously.

She shook her head. Marcus never lies to me. A sad smile tilted her lips. So he says very little. He asks how I feel and does everything he can to make me happy, help me feel better, keep me from stressing over what might happen, all the things that could go wrong. More tears welled. And tries to carry all of the burden himself.

Zach swallowed. There really wasn’t anything he could say to ease her mind and steal away her despair. It surprised him that he even wished to try.

Did you know, she asked, sniffling, that before I came here I had never seen a pregnant woman?

No. He couldn’t imagine it, and sometimes forgot that she was from another planet.

She smiled. The first one I saw had a belly so huge I thought something was seriously wrong with her.

She must have wondered what the hell was in that belly. How is that possible? he asked. Don’t people on your planet reproduce the same way we do?

She nodded. Visitors came to us from another solar system under the guise of friendship and used a virus as a bioweapon against us. No one died from it, so we thought it was an accident, that they hadn’t known they were carriers, and didn’t think much of it until we realized that almost every woman on our planet had been rendered infertile by it. Those who weren’t usually miscarried. Successful pregnancies that go to term are practically nonexistent now. And female children are just as likely to be infertile. It’s one of the reasons I came here. I hoped to find some Earth women who might like to either serve as surrogate mothers or marry our men and help us repopulate.

And the other?

She shook her head. To warn you that the beings who tried to eradicate us are on their way to eradicate you.

Lovely. And for that you were ruthlessly tortured for six months.

Yes. She was quiet for a long moment. I never thought I would be a mother. Another minute passed. Marcus never thought he would be a father.

The odds of either were . . .

Well, hell, he would have thought it impossible even without knowing her people’s history.

Congratulations.

She stared at him. Moisture once more welled in her eyes.

Again Zach’s chest tightened. He cupped his knees in his palms, slid his hands over the soft leather anxiously. Should I not have—?

She shook her head, lips curling into a trembling smile, and brushed the tears from her cheeks. I’m sorry. It’s just . . . you’re the first person who has congratulated me. Everyone else . . .

Is concerned.

She nodded.

He looked at her stomach, hidden beneath one of Marcus’s large sweatshirts. May I?

She nodded.

Zach leaned close. Placing a hand on her stomach, which was rounder than he had expected beneath the soft material, he concentrated on the life it sheltered. The babe seems healthy. Maybe a little large.

She smiled, her face lighting a bit. That’s what Seth said. Marcus is large, too, though, so that’s the one thing that doesn’t concern me.

He hoped that was the explanation. A mixture of gifted one and alien DNA with the vampiric virus thrown in . . .

No one knew what the hell to expect.

And all feared the worst. Those who knew, anyway.

You know what I think you should do? he said, drawing back.

What?

Enjoy the moment. Live like there is no tomorrow. You have a healthy babe in your belly and a husband who loves you. Let the others worry about the what-ifs. Stressing over what might happen isn’t good for the baby.

She nodded. I’ll try.

The front door opened and closed below them.

“Bon soir!” Lisette called, stepping into view as she donned a motorcycle helmet.

“Good night,” Sarah responded cheerfully.

“Good hunting,” Roland added.

A moment later, the French immortal sped away on the back of her motorcycle.

“Want to run home?” Roland asked as he and his wife strolled into view.

“Do you mean literally run?”

He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her body against his. “I know how exhilarating you find it. And I love anything that lights your beautiful eyes with excitement.” He kissed her.

Her eyes began to glow as she sank into him. “We’ll be all sweaty when we get home.”

He kissed her again. “We’re going to get sweaty once we’re home anyway.”

She emitted a throaty laugh. “Shall we make it interesting then and race?”

“How about we race naked? If I catch you, we make love wherever I tackle you.”

“And risk having vampires catch us in flagrante delicto? I don’t think so.”

He laughed. “Perhaps another night then.”

She stepped back. “On three?”

“On three.”

“Okay. One. Two.” She took off, her slender form blurring as she sped off into the night. “Three!” she called from half a mile away, laughter trailing after her.

Roland’s usually dour face broke into a wide grin as he took off after her.

Zack looked at Ami and found her smiling.

What’s it like? he asked, curious.

What?

He started to say love. Affection. Friendship. Nothing. Never mind.

She grimaced. Ech. My stomach is starting to churn again. I’d better go. I doubt David would appreciate it if I vomited all over his solar panels.

Zach thought David wouldn’t care if Ami puked all over his dreadlocks. The elder immortal just wanted her to be happy and healthy and safe.

Rising, he walked with her over to the ladder and steadied her as she found the rungs with her feet. She didn’t need his aid. She was as sure-footed as a cat. Her condition just made him feel protective.

He frowned.

Would you like to come with me? she asked.

No, thank you.

She smiled and descended the ladder.

Zach retook his position in the center of the roof. Tucking his wings in close, he listened as she returned the ladder to its hangers and went inside.

Quiet enfolded him, broken only by the occasional conversation filtering up from the house.

What the hell are you doing, Zach? he asked himself. Why was he so drawn to this place? To these people? What had changed?

Was Seth right? Had he changed?

He heard Darnell greet Ami inside as he collected kittens from immortals and returned them to whatever basket or box they kept them in. “I’m heading downstairs to challenge the Seconds that are training tonight. How much you wanna bet I beat them?”

Had Ami been the one to make the challenge, Zach knew every dollar would be placed on her. But she hadn’t sparred with the others since she’d learned she was pregnant.

“All at once?” Richart asked before Ami could respond.

“Nah. One or two at a time.”

“I’ll bet a thousand on you,” the Frenchman declared.

“No way,” Étienne said. “There are too many. They’ll tire him out. A thousand on the other Seconds.”

“You’re on.”

“Can I get in on this?” another asked.

“Me, too.”

“Where are you going to get a thousand dollars?”

“Bite me.”

They all moved down to the basement, where loud cheering and taunting erupted as the first match began.

They really did seem like one big family. How had Seth accomplished that?

Something stung Zach’s neck. Reaching up, he felt around and found three darts sticking out of it.

Yanking them out, he stared down at them. These weren’t mercenary darts. They were the darts Dr. Lipton had fashioned for the immortals to use against vampires.

He scanned the dark scenery around him, looking for the culprit, and belatedly heard the heartbeat behind him that his thoughts had drowned out.

Casually, he turned. His own heart gave a weird little skip. Lisette, the French immortal, crouched there, her lovely face expressionless.

And her face truly was lovely. He had never been this close to her before. Her skin was pale perfection, her raven hair pulled back from her face in a braid that fell to her waist. Her slender body was clad in a formfitting T-shirt and cargo pants accentuated with holstered Glock 18s. The handles of two sheathed shoto swords peeked at him over her shoulders.

She reminded him of that woman in the Tomb Raider games he had seen Darnell and Ami playing.

And her scent . . .

He drew in a deep breath. She smelled even better than Ami. And Ami smelled better than the lollipops she brought him.

A long minute passed during which Lisette stared at him, waiting for the tranquilizer to take effect. Little did she know the drug would have no more effect on him than it would on Seth.

Zach raised an eyebrow.

Her forehead crinkled in a frown. Quick as lightning, she drew three more darts from her pocket and stuck them in his neck.

With slow, deliberate movements, Zach reached up and removed them.

She bit her lip.

“That hurts, you know,” he said softly enough that he hoped those down in the house wouldn’t hear it over the sparring noises and boisterous cheers.

A thin wire slipped over his head from behind and jerked across his neck, shutting off air.

“Not as much as this will, asshole,” a male voice growled in his ear.

It carried a British accent, so it wasn’t one of her brothers.

What exactly was going on here?

Before Zach could ponder further, a figure appeared on the roof beside him. Sarah met Zach’s gaze, took in the piano wire choking him, glanced at Lisette—who looked guilty as hell—then turned her attention to the man behind Zach.

“Hi,” Sarah said.

“You followed me?” that one growled.

Ah. Roland.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Curiosity. You wouldn’t say why you were coming back and told me not to follow you, which left me no choice but to do so.”

Both spoke as softly as Zach had.

Roland grunted.

“So,” she said.

“So?” Roland parroted.

“Watcha doin’?”

“Lisette has some questions for this one.”

“Uh-huh. And . . . you thought this was the best way to elicit answers?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. You don’t think . . . maybe . . . this sort of thing might be why everyone calls you antisocial?”

“Considering the questions, I thought he would likely be uncooperative.”

“Oh.” She studied Zach, then looked at Lisette. “Ohhhhhh.” Her brows drew together. “Is this a lover’s quarrel kind of thing? Did he do something to piss you off?”

Lisette looked uncomfortable.

“He didn’t cheat on you, did he?” Sarah asked, all concern. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”

Zach watched Lisette, ignoring the pain in his throat and the burn beginning to fill his lungs.

Lisette visually consulted Roland over Zach’s shoulder. “It isn’t about me.”

“Then who is it about?” Sarah asked.

Roland must have mouthed a name, because—though Zach heard nothing—Sarah’s eyes blazed a bright luminescent green, very rare amongst immortals. “Really.” She moved, silently circling around to stand with her husband at Zach’s back. “Let me give you a little help with that, sweetie.”

In all of his thousands of years of existence, Zach didn’t think anything so peculiar had ever happened to him.

Or so intriguing.

Or entertaining.

As the husband-and-wife team slowly choked him toward unconsciousness, he pondered what to do. He could make enough noise to draw David’s attention. But David wouldn’t appreciate his presence here any more than Seth would.

He could teleport away. But anyone touching him would go with him. So he would only escape Lisette, and she was the most interesting person here. She was the reason he hadn’t yet attempted to secure his freedom.

Roland planted a boot in Zach’s back and pulled harder.

Roland had said Lisette wanted to talk to him. That she had some questions for Zach.

What kind of questions?

How did she even know about him?

How had she detected his presence when Seth and David hadn’t?

His heartbeat sounded loudly in his ears as his lungs hungered for oxygen.

Zach couldn’t seem to find the will to fight them. He wanted to know what Lisette wanted from him. Had Roland and Sarah stopped trying to suffocate him and stepped back, he didn’t think he would have left.

Hmm. He could just go with it.

The idea appealed to him far more than it should. He wasn’t supposed to care about this. Any of it. Or these people.

But his damned curiosity wouldn’t leave him be.

And Seth hadn’t been far from the truth when they had spoken in South Korea. The numbness was wearing off. Boredom had set in. Zach was drowning in it. And he would do just about anything, including allow the odd couple behind him to force him into unconsciousness, to swim his way back to the surface and leave it behind him.

A very dangerous mind-set that had already gotten him into trouble once.

His eyes locked on Lisette’s face.

Fuck it. He wanted to know.

The smile he gave her as darkness enfolded him must have puzzled the hell out of her.

Lisette stared down at the unconscious male Roland dumped onto the floor of the safe house they had claimed for the day.

He was incredibly handsome. Dark, wavy hair fell below his shoulders. A muscled chest devoid of hair tapered to a narrow waist and slim hips encased in black leather.

Her gaze went to his wings.

They were beautiful. The same tan as his skin at their base, the nearly translucent wings darkened to black at their tips and would span twelve or fourteen feet when fully extended.

The man himself was taller than Seth, who stood a good six foot eight or thereabouts.

“Do you know him?” she asked Roland as he left the room.

“No.” He returned, carrying titanium chains thicker than her biceps that humans would probably have to use a forklift to move. Dumping the lot on the floor, he crouched next to their prisoner.

“Is he an immortal?” Sarah asked as she took a position beside her husband, weapons drawn.

“He must be,” Roland mumbled, taking the man by the throat and dragging him upright. “Vampires don’t have wings.”

“Wait.” Lisette halted him before he could start wrapping the man in chains. Hurrying to the only bedroom in the small house, she yanked the covers off the bed and took them into the living room.

“What’s that for?” Roland asked with a scowl.

She knelt beside him. “If he’s immortal, Seth won’t respond well to him being damaged.” Dropping the bedding, she leaned forward and tentatively touched one of his wings.

So soft. Like the delicate strands of hair on a newborn baby’s head.

Her heart began to pound as she gently took both wings and folded them in close to his back. Holding them in place with one hand, she wrapped the sheet and blanket around him.

“What’s wrong?” Roland asked with a scowl. “Your heart is beating faster.”

That part of being an Immortal Guardian sucked. There really were very few secrets among their ranks because of their damned heightened senses. “Are you sure he’s an immortal? I can’t smell the virus on him.”

“Can you smell it on me?”

“Barely.”

“What about David and Seth?”

“No.”

“Then there’s your answer. He’s an immortal. He just must be old as hell.” Once she finished and sat back, he started wrapping the chains around and around the stranger.

“If he’s that old,” Sarah murmured, “wouldn’t you know him, honey?”

Lisette snorted. “As antisocial as Roland is, he wouldn’t even know me if I hadn’t made myself a nuisance.”

The dour immortal’s face actually lightened with a smile. “You weren’t the nuisance. Your brothers were.”

She grinned. He may be curt and surly with the others, but he had always been kind to her.

Soon the winged mystery immortal was swathed tightly in chains from his neck to his feet. Why did seeing him like that bother her so? She didn’t know him. Had never met him. And had good reason to dislike him.

“What now?” she asked as the three of them stood in a semicircle and stared down at him.

“We wait until he wakes up, then extract information.”

She glanced at the window. “Dawn is approaching.”

Roland followed her gaze. “Go home. We’ll take first watch.”

“I want to be here when you question him.”

“If he wakes before sunset, we’ll await your return.”

She nodded, strangely reluctant to leave. Giving their prisoner one last look, she said her good-byes, then headed out into the night.

Étienne paced outside Krysta’s home, listening to her shoot the breeze with her brother while they prepared for the night’s hunt.

This was ridiculous. He had awoken this afternoon, full of anticipation, eager to see Krysta again, and hadn’t wasted a second getting here once the sun had set. Even Cameron, his Second, had noticed something was amiss. He hadn’t said anything, but Étienne had caught the What’s up with you? looks Cam had shot him while doling out weapons.

A slender shadow crossed the curtains. Étienne glimpsed Krysta in the living room. She was arming herself with more weapons than he had realized she carried. Damned near as many as he carried.

Why did that turn him on?

He sighed.

Was this what he had come to? Stalking her like one of those freaks on the Internet you heard about on the news?

Yes, he imagined Cam telling him.

Had he really sunk so low?

He had even been tempted to circle around to the other side of the house, peer through her bedroom window, and watch her dress, but that had just seemed too sleazy. Besides, if he ever saw Krysta naked, he wanted it to be on her terms with—

Wait. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t going to see Krysta naked. He couldn’t see Krysta naked. She bore what was obviously a deep-seated hatred for vampires, from which she didn’t differentiate him, and would destroy him in an instant if given the opportunity.

Even if he managed to lessen her desire to decapitate him, there was still the whole mortal-immortal thing. He wasn’t sure she was a gifted one. If her brother was her half brother, she may not possess the advanced DNA needed to transform without becoming vampire. Not that she would want to anyway because of the whole I hate vampires roadblock.

Étienne straightened.

Was he really trying to think his way into a relationship with a woman who wanted him dead? Was he that lonely?

Or was she just that irresistible?

Don’t answer that, he warned himself and blamed all of the happy pappy lovestruck crap that had surrounded him of late for his current confusion. First Roland had fallen in love with Sarah, who clearly was delusional for thinking him sweet.

Then Marcus had found Ami. The jury was still out on whether or not their relationship was going to have a happy ending because Ami had not yet asked Marcus to transform her.

Richart had fallen hard for Jenna, who—Étienne was very pleased to note—made his brother very happy.

Even that bastard Bastien had fallen in love with and married Dr. Lipton.

The jangling of keys shook Étienne from his musings. He ducked out of sight as the front door swung open.

Krysta exited first, her shoto swords clutched in one hand, her coat in the other.

Étienne silently cursed as his pulse picked up its pace.

Sean exited next, carrying a pile of heavy books, and tromped down the stairs.

Étienne had learned from his shameless eavesdropping sessions (there had been more of those than he cared to admit in the two weeks he had been following her) that Sean was in medical school and usually studied in the car while she hunted.

Krysta’s eyes scanned the area as they crossed the yard to their crappy car.

Both doors groaned when pried open. And the damned engine barely turned over.

Though Krysta worked days and Sean weekends, freeing up the nights for hunting, they barely made ends meet.

Étienne had been tempted to call in the network to make all the repairs the car needed, but that would bring the sibling vampire hunters to Chris Reordon’s attention.

Not a good idea.

Étienne raced through the countryside, following the shabby vehicle and making sure forest, field, or structures always hid him from view.

Looked like they were heading for Duke tonight.

The hunt was on.

That’s right, dullards, Krysta thought, mentally smiling as she used Étienne’s term, come along, follow the poor, unsuspecting undergrad who doesn’t know you’re there because she’s busy drunk dialing her ex.

That one was always popular. There were times, in fact, when she could actually hear some of the vampires laugh over the crazy-ass things she said or shouted into the phone while staggering up the path. Perhaps, in another life, she could have been an actress.

There had been no vamp action around the frat houses tonight. Rather she had found them lingering in Research Park, waiting for an egghead to stumble out after working on whatever it was he or she researched until the wee hours.

Along the sidewalk, Krysta led them between two buildings, and into a darker area near the loading dock. She thought there had been lights back here the last time she had passed by. The vamps must have broken them, intending to feed on their victim where none would see.

Perfect.

Her heart began to pound, not with fear as she prepared to spin around and fight, but with anticipation. Étienne was nearby. She knew it. She could feel it. And she wasn’t going to let him snatch away her prize this time. She was going to confront the vamps before he had the chance.

Drawing her shoto swords, she spun around at the same moment Étienne appeared behind the vamps.

Ooh. Six vampires. Good thing he had come.

Étienne’s brows drew down in a frown as he met her gaze. “Damn it! You’re early!”

She grinned. “Nope. You’re late.”

The vampires’ faces went blank with surprise. Their gazes zigzagged between the two of them.

“Oh shit,” one said, his face filling with fear as he stared at Étienne. “An Immortal Guardian.”

Gasps from his vampire cohorts.

A what?

Another vampire looked at Krysta. “She’s human. She must be his Second.”

“Bastien has a mortal Second,” another said.

Who had a what now?

Krysta was given no time to ask.

Their faces contorted with fury. “Bastien the Deceiver!”

“Death to Bastien!”

“Kick their fucking asses!”

The vampires drew weapons and attacked.

Krysta inched backward and swung her swords as multiple orange auras shot toward her.

The vampires must think they would have an easier time killing her than they would Étienne.

Smart vamps.

Sucked for her, though.

Even as she struck lethal blows with her blades, slicing the throat of the first vampire to reach her, pain streaked through her thigh as another vamp’s blade cut into her flesh.

Krysta gritted her teeth and swung at the orange aura leaping away from her.

Score! Tit for tat. She’d cut his femoral artery, the bastard!

Limping backward, she kept her swords in constant motion. Glowing orange auras swirled around her, so numerous that fear threatened to paralyze her.

She struck more blows, aiming at auras and hitting the flesh they preceded.

The vampires struck blows as well. Cuts stung her arms, back, legs. Just as she was silently celebrating a particularly good blow, one of the vamps circled around behind her and hit her in the head, landing a simple punch with his fist, backed by preternatural strength, that felt like a freaking anvil.

The world around her lit up with sparkly things that had nothing to do with auras. All strength left her limbs as agony pounded her head.

Krysta staggered. Her thoughts scattered.

Somewhere a lion roared.

The glowing orange auras surrounding her fell away as shining purple and white rolled through them like a bowling ball felling pins.

Krysta’s weapons clattered to the ground, her fingers unable to grasp anything but her aching head.

She sank to her knees.

“Krysta!”