Night Unbound

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Night Unbound Page 3

by Dianne Duvall


  How stupid would she be to make the same damned mistake twice?

  “You look pissed,” Tracy commented.

  Lisette tried to erase her frown as she took the weapons her Second offered and prepared for the night’s hunt. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  A moment of silence passed.

  “Do you want me to stay at David’s for a couple of days?” Tracy asked.

  Lisette smiled. “No. It isn’t you. Or your dreams. It’s . . .” She shook her head. If she told Tracy she was pining for a man who appeared to be Seth’s enemy, Tracy would be unable to keep the knowledge from Étienne, David, and Seth should they read her thoughts. “It’s nothing.”

  “Bullshit. You’ve been restless and moody for weeks. Months, actually.”

  Lisette hadn’t realized Tracy was that attuned to her.

  “Is it time to move on?” her Second asked.

  “Move on?”

  “Ask Seth for a transfer? Things have quieted down around here. I don’t think he’d refuse, if you told him you were homesick and wanted to spend some time in France or that you needed a change and wanted to go . . . I don’t know . . . anywhere but here.”

  “You’d be okay with that?” Lisette asked curiously.

  “Sure. You know I’d follow you anywhere. And, when you weren’t hunting vampires, you could introduce me to some hot European men.”

  She smiled. “I believe your true motivation has come to light.”

  “You know it.” Though Tracy grinned, her eyes remained watchful. She handed Lisette a pair of shoto swords. “Just think about it. And, if the wild and wicked dreams I keep having about the guy with all the tattoos at the home-improvement store get to be too much for you, don’t hesitate to boot me out.” She winked. “If I dream about him at David’s, maybe I’ll accidentally suck Étienne into the dream and give him an eyeful.”

  Lisette laughed.

  Maybe it was time for a change, she thought later as she walked the pathways of a quiet UNCG campus. Perhaps she only obsessed over Zach because she was lonely.

  She snorted.

  Hell, she had been lonely for decades. She was used to it. Resigned to it. Had thought it simply the way it would always be and accepted it . . . until her brother Richart had fallen in love with Jenna. And Étienne had fallen in love with Krysta.

  Both brothers’ finding happiness after so many years of the solitary, violent existence to which she had surrendered them had lifted a weight from her shoulders. Finally, the recriminations to which she had subjected herself nightly had faded to whispers.

  But their marriages had rendered her the fifth wheel, enhancing the emptiness within her.

  Kidneythieves’ “Before I’m Dead” broke the night’s silence.

  Pulling her cell phone from her back pocket, Lisette glanced down to see who was calling and shook her head. Speak of the devil.

  Or rather one of them.

  “Oui?” she answered.

  Richart appeared beside her.

  Six foot one with broad shoulders, a leanly muscled body, short dark hair, and piercing brown eyes, he had always been a handsome rascal. Mortal women had never ceased fawning over him and striving to gain his favor. The fact that he had an identical twin had only titillated them more. But now . . .

  Lisette had to admit happiness agreed with him. He looked good; his lips often curled up in a smile. She envied him. And felt petty and small for doing so.

  He smiled down at her and raised his eyebrows.

  Grinning, she shook her head. “You look just like you used to when you were a boy about to embark upon some mischief or other that would end with Étienne’s being punished for your misdeed.”

  He laughed. “I’m very fortunate to have such a forgiving brother.”

  “Yes, you are,” she agreed wryly. “So what has led you to grace me with your presence tonight? Shouldn’t you be home, begging Jenna to make love with you or something?”

  His eyes sparkled with amusement. “I don’t have to beg. And she’s with Ami tonight.”

  Lisette frowned. “Is Ami all right?”

  Her brother nodded. “There was a brief scare this afternoon. Ami began to have contractions, but Melanie and Dr. Kimiko said the baby’s lungs aren’t developed enough yet for her to be safely born, so Seth and David had to stop Ami’s labor.”

  “Are you sure she’s all right?”

  “Seth, David, and Melanie all insist she is.”

  “And Marcus?”

  “He’s fine whenever he’s around Ami and a wreck otherwise.”

  She nodded, knowing there was nothing they could do for him.

  “And you?” Richart asked suddenly.

  She arched a brow. “Me?”

  “You haven’t been visiting David’s very often of late. You used to haunt it nearly nightly. Now . . . pfft . . . we almost never see you. Even Seth and David have remarked upon it.”

  An unnerving thought, the last. She offered a nonchalant shrug. “The place is packed. It makes it difficult to sleep.” Not a lie. Just not the reason she had been spending more time at home.

  Thinking of Zach.

  Inwardly, she sighed. Which was why she couldn’t be around Seth and David. They’d read it in her thoughts. And if they believed even for a moment that Zach had come to her in a dream . . .

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?” he asked.

  “What else would it be?”

  Richart shrugged and perused the campus around them in a blatant attempt to avoid her gaze.

  Lisette rolled her eyes. She had known him for almost two and a half centuries. Did he really think he could hide something from her?

  In true sibling form, she didn’t bother to ask his permission before she mentally barged in and listened to his thoughts, but all she could hear was him singing a nineteenth-century tavern song.

  “You’re hiding something from me,” she said.

  He snorted. “C’est ridicule!”

  “You always sing drinking songs when you don’t want me to read your thoughts. What are you hiding?”

  “Nothing. By the way, Jenna asked me to invite you to breakfast.”

  “You’re changing the subject. And thank you, but no. You’re newlyweds. You need your privacy.”

  He laughed. “The world’s most mischievous Second resides beneath our roof, along with Jenna’s son. Privacy isn’t a possibility. And we aren’t newlyweds any longer.”

  “Pish posh. You’re immortal. The two of you will be newlyweds for at least a century.”

  His brow furrowed. “You aren’t avoiding us because—”

  She held up a hand and turned her head, listening.

  Richart glanced around, face alert. His mental singing ceased. What is it? Though he wasn’t telepathic himself and couldn’t speak directly into others’ minds the way she could, he knew she would pick up on his thoughts.

  She shook her head. Vampires. But . . . something is off.

  What?

  Four are your typical vampire fare, thoughts a maelstrom of violence and glee over their most recent kills.

  And the fifth?

  Both could smell them now.

  The fifth vamp feigns insanity, but is lucid.

  Did he band together with the others for safety’s sake?

  She shook her head. He wants something from them.

  What?

  I don’t know. But he intends to kill the others once he obtains it.

  The vampires were almost upon them now.

  Keep listening, Richart said. See what you can learn from the poser.

  Should we try to recruit him?

  Let’s see what his game is first. For all we know, he may be another Bastien or Dennis, looking to raise a damned vampire army to eradicate us.

  Just what we need.

  This late on a weeknight, few moved about UNCG. Campus security performed occasional sweeps. But professors had long since left. Every once in a while a stray student, driven by either
insomnia or stress, walked the campus grounds. But those were few and far between.

  Nevertheless, Lisette and Richart waited to confront the vampires until they were in a relatively isolated area, distanced from student housing, in order to reduce the chances of mortals getting caught in the crossfire . . . or witnessing the battle and posting video on the Internet.

  I see what you mean, Richart thought. It’s the large one who’s built like a lumberjack, right?

  Yes.

  The other vampires were a slovenly mess, no longer concerned with personal hygiene. Garbed in jeans and T-shirts with various and assorted smart-ass quips splashed across the fronts, the vampires could easily pass for students if one disregarded the bloodstains on their clothing, as well as the fangs and glowing eyes. The latter gave away the vamps’ recent kill as much as the stains and their thoughts did.

  Any heightened emotion—anger, excitement, lust, jealousy—made the eyes of both vampires and immortals glow. Which was one of the many reasons immortals had to be careful when they took mortal lovers. Glowing eyes weren’t easy to hide.

  Of course, that wouldn’t be a problem with Zach. His own eyes glowed a beautiful gold, so if she took him as a—

  She swore.

  Why the hell couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

  What about the others? Richart queried mentally. Do we take time to chat, or shall we simply attack?

  Attack. They aren’t worth saving. The thoughts of those turned her stomach, the screams of their victims still echoing through their minds like a favorite tune.

  The lost causes walked in pairs. Two swaggered in front, wondering aloud if they should seek new victims to torment. The other two scuffed along behind them and agreed, eager for another kill. The fifth brought up the rear.

  The gaze that one directed at the others whenever they weren’t looking held contempt. He thought them beneath him. Lesser creatures to be used and discarded.

  Richart might be right. This might be the next vampire who intended to declare himself king. (Thank you, Bastien, for putting the idea of such uprisings into their heads.) Perhaps, like Dennis, this one intended to make lowlives like these his whipping boys.

  While Bastien had ruled his vampire army with an iron thumb, he had only used violence to keep the maddest of them in line when they’d strayed and had earned the devotion of his followers by giving them hope. Dennis, Bastien’s successor of sorts, had used violence . . . just because. The vampires who had followed him had done so not because they thought he could help them and cure them, but because they had feared he would rip them to shreds if they didn’t.

  Again Lisette’s gaze went to the fifth vampire.

  Yes, this one reminded her strongly of Dennis. Already, he imagined tearing his companions apart.

  She nodded to her brother.

  Richart vanished and reappeared directly behind the first two vamps.

  How she envied him his ability to teleport.

  With a flash of his long daggers, he decapitated the vamps in front before those behind him could even utter yelps of surprise.

  Lisette darted forward at preternatural speed, arriving just as Richart spun around and severed the carotid arteries of the next two.

  They stumbled back, grasping their throats as blood spurted and they began to bleed out faster than the virus could save them.

  Only the fifth remained.

  Just as Lisette arrived, that one delivered a roundhouse kick to her brother’s chest. Richart flew backward, hitting the side of a nearby building hard enough to crack the bricks. Dust and mortar exploded around him as he fell to the ground.

  Merde! Lisette ducked the right hook the vamp aimed at her, dodged the upper cut that followed half a second later, and swung her shoto swords. He was so fast!

  The lumberjack vamp spun out of reach of her weapons and drew his own: two sais, as long and sleek and well cared for as those Roland carried. And, unlike most vampires, the lumberjack vamp knew how to wield them.

  He swung the sais.

  Shock rippled through Lisette as she met his every strike. This vampire had been trained. And the bastard was tall, with arms that seemed as long as a gorilla’s. But her longer shoto swords made up for her shorter reach.

  She swore as one of his blades caught her across the cheek.

  Richart? she called mentally, unable to take her gaze from her opponent long enough to check on him. Are you all right?

  A slew of French expletives filled her mind, grumbled in her brother’s familiar voice.

  Relief made her smile. So did scoring a deep cut across the vamp’s right arm.

  Fury mottled his rough-hewn features. His moves grew more careless. His thoughts filled with such hate and violence that it was hard to read any one thought in particular, but she did manage to discern that he had believed he would easily overpower her because she was a girl.

  Dumb ass.

  She swept the sai from his right hand.

  He curled his empty fingers into a fist and slammed it into her jaw.

  Pain exploded through her head as bone cracked. Her fingers tightened around the grips of her swords as her feet left the ground and she flew backward the way her brother had. She didn’t know what she hit, but stars burst into being around her, lighting up her vision and muddying it at the same time.

  Richart roared over the ringing in her ears. Lisette! he shouted mentally as the sounds of fighting resumed.

  I’m fine.

  Dragging herself to her feet, she staggered a couple of steps until she could regain her balance. Bastard had punched her! When was the last time a vampire had caught her off guard or gotten close enough to strike her with his bare hands?

  She didn’t wait for her fuzzy vision to clear, just dove back into the battle. Racing to her brother’s side, she added her blades to his. This vampire might be far more skilled with weapons than those they normally fought, but he couldn’t best two of them at once.

  They defeated him in short order, cutting his carotid, brachial, and femoral arteries.

  Richart looked at her as the vamp fell over onto his side. “What the hell was that?”

  She shook her head. Some dumb ass must have turned a martial arts expert, she told him telepathically. Speaking hurt her cracked jaw too much.

  “Brilliant,” her brother complained.

  Too bad he wasn’t a gifted one, she told him with a shake of her head. With those skills, he would’ve made an excellent immortal.

  Richart’s look turned uneasy. “You don’t think . . . He wasn’t immortal, was he?”

  Nausea took her. Bastien had been immortal, but had lived as a vampire for two centuries. Hastily sheathing her weapons, she removed her cell phone from a back pocket and knelt to snap several pictures of the vamp’s face before he could deteriorate beyond recognition.

  When she rose, Richart was dialing his own.

  “Yes?” the Immortal Guardians’ leader said over the line.

  “Seth,” Richart said. “We need you. Now. It’s important.”

  Seth appeared beside them.

  Before he could speak a word, Richart pointed to the fifth vamp. “Do you know him?”

  Seth frowned down at the vamp. “No.”

  “Are you sure?” Lisette pressed without moving her jaw.

  He cut her a glance, then knelt beside the vamp and rolled him onto his back. A few seconds passed. “I’m sure.”

  Both she and her brother sighed with relief.

  Seth rose. “What’s going on?”

  She fell silent as Richart told him.

  His scowl deepening, Seth crossed to Lisette and gently cupped her face in his large hands. A comforting heat suffused her where they touched. The pain in her jaw disappeared as bone healed and swelling receded.

  Smiling, she clasped his wrists and gave them a squeeze. “Thank you.”

  He nodded and dropped his hands. Turning around, he stared down at the vampire. “It happens every once in a while.”

/>   Richart raised his eyebrows. “Vamps turning someone who can actually challenge us in a fight?”

  He nodded. “Ask Roland about the time a vampire turned a master swordsman in the fourteenth century. Roland was so caught off guard he nearly lost an arm.”

  Lisette smiled. “I would think turning a human who was better skilled in fighting would backfire on a vampire.”

  Seth laughed. “It did. The swordsman killed his maker as soon as he completed the transformation. I’m sure this one did, too.”

  Lisette eyed the pile of clothes, all that remained of their fierce opponent. “I think he intended to pull a Dennis and raise an army. He seemed to despise his companions and intended to kill them when they no longer proved useful to him.”

  Seth eyed her speculatively. “You gleaned that from his thoughts?”

  She nodded.

  He motioned to her phone. “Did you take pictures of him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Send them to Chris. Let’s see if his techno geeks can identify him.”

  Chapter Two

  Large warm hands slipped beneath the hem of Lisette’s sleep shirt. Tracing a path over her hips and up to skim the sides of her breasts, they eased the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. She hummed in pleasure as those hands returned to her breasts, stroking and teasing. Then lips tasted her, drawing a hardened nipple into a hot mouth to be tormented by her lover’s tongue.

  She had hoped she would dream about Zach again, but hadn’t expected this.

  A muscled thigh slipped between hers and pressed against the heart of her, sparking heat and need. Smiling, eyes still closed, Lisette buried her hands in Zach’s hair, combed her fingers through his . . . short locks?

  Her eyes flew open. Stiffening, she glanced down at the chiseled body atop hers, the hand at her breast. . . .

  That wasn’t Zach’s body.

  And those weren’t her breasts.

  Groaning, she realized she’d been drawn into Tracy’s dream about her home-improvement hunk.

 

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