Darkness Rises
Page 7
After talking with him, she had assumed he had just jumped down from the roof. Had he instead teleported?
Was that even what it was called? Teleporting? It sounded so sci-fi. Not vampirish at all.
Sighing, she took out her cell phone and called Sean.
A moment later, their battered Dodge Shadow halted before her and the passenger door sprang open.
Her brother’s curious gaze pierced her as she sank into the bucket seat and slammed the door.
“No luck tonight?” he asked.
Kinda hard to miss the lack of blood splatter.
She shook her head.
He sent her an encouraging smile. “Maybe you killed them all.”
She laughed. “I wish.”
He began the journey home. “You must have scared them off. You haven’t gone this long without fighting one in a few years.”
She made some noncommittal sound as guilt consumed her. She should tell him about Etienne. She actually opened her mouth to do so three or four times as the engine stuttered and struggled to get them home. But what could she say? I’m being stalked by that gorgeous vampire you saw me with two weeks ago. No, he doesn’t fight me. He claims he’s protecting me. Yes, the vampire. Yes, by all appearances, he is protecting me. He keeps killing all of the vampires I hunt. No, I don’t know what his game is. And, yes, I’m attracted to him. That’s right—attracted. As in I would love to see him naked. It’s sick. I get it. He’s a bloodsucking vampire. But I can’t help it. My freaking heart pounds every time he comes near me and it isn’t from fear that he’ll kill me.
She gazed into the blackness beyond the passenger window.
There was just something about him. Something mesmerizing.
Her reflection’s brow furrowed.
Was she losing it? Was the strain of six years of battling vampire after insane vampire beginning to get to her? Or . . .
A chill skittered through her.
Was the vampires’ madness rubbing off on her? Was it contagious?
She had been bitten that one time seven years ago. She had assumed, because she hadn’t turned into a vampire overnight, that there had been no long-term damage. What if she were wrong? What if the madness that crippled vampires had slowly but surely been finding and securing a home in her?
Fear cut through her veins like diamonds.
Could it be true? Could that be it?
Even if one bite couldn’t do it, she had been exposed to their blood countless times over the years in battle. How many times did it take?
“You okay?” her brother asked.
“Just tired,” she lied.
“Are you sure?” He took his eyes off the road momentarily to study her. “Are you worried about the vampire who helped you?”
She sent him a sharp glance. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “It’s just weird that he helped you. You’ve never encountered a vampire who didn’t try to kill or turn you. I’ve been worried that he might . . . I don’t know . . . come back and finish what he didn’t have a chance to start.”
“If he had wanted to kill me, he had ample opportunity to do so.”
A scowl creased his brow. “How can you be so sure? Maybe he’s screwing with you? He didn’t get into your head, did he?”
Relief and anger overwhelmed her as she realized her brother might have just hit the proverbial nail on the head.
A slew of silent epithets drowned out whatever Sean said next.
That’s it! It has to be! Etienne has literally gotten into my head. I mean, if he can freaking teleport, a little mind control really isn’t that hard to believe.
Other vampires could do it. The reason no one knew vampires existed was because victims of vampire attacks who lived could never recall having been bitten or give any description of their attacker. They even laughed outright at the notion that Krysta had saved them from a vampire who had been eagerly draining their blood.
Not one vampire victim with whom she had spoken had retained any memory of being attacked. If that wasn’t mind control, what was?
Anger simmered within her. “I am so going to kick his ass,” she growled.
Sean’s eyebrows rose. “The purple and white vamp?”
She had told him about Etienne’s aura. “Yes.”
“What makes you think you’ll see him again?”
“Oh, I’ll see him again. He left me alive for a reason. And I’m going to kick his ass until he tells me what it is.”
His frown returned. “Just don’t go looking for him, Krys. Seriously. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I won’t,” she was able to say with complete honesty.
If he stayed true to his recent pattern, Etienne would come looking for her. And when he did . . .
She smiled grimly.
He was going to regret messing with her head.
Chapter 3
Etienne 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?”
Etienne reached for the little gray and white one. “We’re really doing this?”
“Yes.”
A faint, high-pitched scream came from Etienne’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.
Etienne 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,” Etienne 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.”
Etienne 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. Etienne 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.”
Etienne 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.
Was that even what it was called? Teleporting? It sounded so sci-fi. Not vampirish at all.
Sighing, she took out her cell phone and called Sean.
A moment later, their battered Dodge Shadow halted before her and the passenger door sprang open.
Her brother’s curious gaze pierced her as she sank into the bucket seat and slammed the door.
“No luck tonight?” he asked.
Kinda hard to miss the lack of blood splatter.
She shook her head.
He sent her an encouraging smile. “Maybe you killed them all.”
She laughed. “I wish.”
He began the journey home. “You must have scared them off. You haven’t gone this long without fighting one in a few years.”
She made some noncommittal sound as guilt consumed her. She should tell him about Etienne. She actually opened her mouth to do so three or four times as the engine stuttered and struggled to get them home. But what could she say? I’m being stalked by that gorgeous vampire you saw me with two weeks ago. No, he doesn’t fight me. He claims he’s protecting me. Yes, the vampire. Yes, by all appearances, he is protecting me. He keeps killing all of the vampires I hunt. No, I don’t know what his game is. And, yes, I’m attracted to him. That’s right—attracted. As in I would love to see him naked. It’s sick. I get it. He’s a bloodsucking vampire. But I can’t help it. My freaking heart pounds every time he comes near me and it isn’t from fear that he’ll kill me.
She gazed into the blackness beyond the passenger window.
There was just something about him. Something mesmerizing.
Her reflection’s brow furrowed.
Was she losing it? Was the strain of six years of battling vampire after insane vampire beginning to get to her? Or . . .
A chill skittered through her.
Was the vampires’ madness rubbing off on her? Was it contagious?
She had been bitten that one time seven years ago. She had assumed, because she hadn’t turned into a vampire overnight, that there had been no long-term damage. What if she were wrong? What if the madness that crippled vampires had slowly but surely been finding and securing a home in her?
Fear cut through her veins like diamonds.
Could it be true? Could that be it?
Even if one bite couldn’t do it, she had been exposed to their blood countless times over the years in battle. How many times did it take?
“You okay?” her brother asked.
“Just tired,” she lied.
“Are you sure?” He took his eyes off the road momentarily to study her. “Are you worried about the vampire who helped you?”
She sent him a sharp glance. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “It’s just weird that he helped you. You’ve never encountered a vampire who didn’t try to kill or turn you. I’ve been worried that he might . . . I don’t know . . . come back and finish what he didn’t have a chance to start.”
“If he had wanted to kill me, he had ample opportunity to do so.”
A scowl creased his brow. “How can you be so sure? Maybe he’s screwing with you? He didn’t get into your head, did he?”
Relief and anger overwhelmed her as she realized her brother might have just hit the proverbial nail on the head.
A slew of silent epithets drowned out whatever Sean said next.
That’s it! It has to be! Etienne has literally gotten into my head. I mean, if he can freaking teleport, a little mind control really isn’t that hard to believe.
Other vampires could do it. The reason no one knew vampires existed was because victims of vampire attacks who lived could never recall having been bitten or give any description of their attacker. They even laughed outright at the notion that Krysta had saved them from a vampire who had been eagerly draining their blood.
Not one vampire victim with whom she had spoken had retained any memory of being attacked. If that wasn’t mind control, what was?
Anger simmered within her. “I am so going to kick his ass,” she growled.
Sean’s eyebrows rose. “The purple and white vamp?”
She had told him about Etienne’s aura. “Yes.”
“What makes you think you’ll see him again?”
“Oh, I’ll see him again. He left me alive for a reason. And I’m going to kick his ass until he tells me what it is.”
His frown returned. “Just don’t go looking for him, Krys. Seriously. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I won’t,” she was able to say with complete honesty.
If he stayed true to his recent pattern, Etienne would come looking for her. And when he did . . .
She smiled grimly.
He was going to regret messing with her head.
Chapter 3
Etienne 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?”
Etienne reached for the little gray and white one. “We’re really doing this?”
“Yes.”
A faint, high-pitched scream came from Etienne’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.
Etienne 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,” Etienne 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.”
Etienne 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. Etienne 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.”
Etienne 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.
