“Heather,” Lisette said, “do you have a towel or something I can use to clean his wounds?”
“Of course.” Heather hurried to the bathroom.
Zach continued to fling visual daggers Ethan’s way.
“Look,” Ethan said, preternaturally soft so Heather wouldn’t hear him, “I know what you’re thinking and I didn’t neglect to warn you on purpose. I didn’t set you up, Zach, because I’m jealous. What Lisette and I had is over. We’re just friends and I’m fine with that.” The truth in that statement startled him. He really was fine with it. “I was distracted.” His gaze drifted past Zach and Lisette to the bathroom doorway. “Incredibly, temptingly distracted.”
“You’re smitten with her,” Lisette pronounced with a sly smile.
Ethan didn’t bother to deny it. “Yeah, I am.”
Heather hurried back into the room and offered Lisette two towels. “I brought a wet one and a dry one. Can I do anything else?”
Lisette took the towels. “No, thank you.”
Heather returned to Ethan’s side while Lisette used the wet towel to wipe away the blood that stained Zach’s skin. The wounds beneath sealed themselves and healed as they watched.
Zach was thousands of years old and almost as powerful as Seth, the Immortal Guardians’ leader. That came with serious perks.
“That’s amazing,” Heather breathed, eyes wide.
A tinny version of the R.E.M. tune “It’s the End of the World as We Know It” suddenly filled the room.
Zach pulled a cell phone from his back pocket and answered. “What?”
“Zach, was that you just now?” Chris asked on the other end.
Ethan’s heightened senses allowed him to hear both sides of the conversation.
“Yes.”
Chris swore. “Sorry about that. We’re on lockdown and everyone around here is a little trigger-happy today.”
“No problem. Shall we try this again?”
“Yes. Were you coming to take me to Miss Lane’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Then skip the lobby and just teleport directly to my private office this time.”
“I’m on my way.”
As soon as Lisette finished swiping his chest with the dry towel, Zach dropped a kiss on her lips and vanished.
Heather looked up at Ethan. “You live in a fascinating world.”
He fought the urge to tell her that she could, too, if she chose to do so.
The incredibly tall, handsome, and scary elder immortal returned with another man.
Heather studied the latter. Dark blond hair he appeared to have finger-combed a few too many times stopped short of meeting his collar. Discerning blue eyes catalogued everyone and everything in the room as he gave her home a quick survey. Standing just short of six feet tall, he had broad shoulders and a lean build like Zach. Neither, she noted, packed as much muscle as Ethan did.
The fingers of one of the new man’s hands clutched the handle of a worn, soft leather briefcase. “Heather Lane?” he asked, those blue eyes locking on hers.
“Yes.”
Striding forward, he held out his free hand. “Chris Reordon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Heather shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, too,” she returned with caution.
“What happened at the network?” Lisette asked. “Ethan said a vampire had a psychotic break. Was it . . . was it Cliff?”
His shoulders slumping wearily, Chris nodded and turned to the others. “Yeah.”
Low curses all around.
Heather wondered who this vampire Cliff was and why they all seemed so heartbroken by the news. Weren’t vampires supposed to be the bad guys?
“What happened?” Ethan asked.
“I don’t know. We’re still trying to piece it together. But, shortly after sunrise, Dr. Whetsman apparently said something that set Cliff off.”
“Dumb fuck,” Zach muttered darkly.
Ethan nodded. “I hate that prick.”
“I do, too,” Chris admitted, “but he’s a fucking genius. So we need him. Anyway, Cliff just . . . lost it. I’ve never seen him like that before.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as though stress had tightened the muscles there. “He broke one of Whetsman’s arms, his hip, and looked like he was doing his damnedest to rip Whetsman’s head from his shoulders when the guards opened fire.”
“Was Whetsman hit?” Zach asked with what sounded to Heather like hope. She couldn’t quite place his accent, but it almost sounded British.
“No. My guys are excellent marksmen.”
“Damn,” all three immortals exclaimed.
“Whetsman made a run for it, though,” Chris continued. “Cliff followed and made it all the way to the damned lobby before blood loss and the tranquilizer brought him down.”
Lisette bit her lip. “Did Cliff . . . Is he . . . ?”
“No.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“But he won’t wake up for hours. It took double the usual dose to knock him out.”
Ethan whistled. “I’m surprised that didn’t kill him. Is Linda with him?”
“No. She left just before it happened and we haven’t been able to reach her.”
Zach’s eyebrows lowered. “What about Bastien and Melanie? Are they with him?”
“No. I couldn’t find Seth to teleport them over and didn’t want Richart to teleport them in case Bastien did something rash. So I figured I’d wait and tell them when the sun sets.”
Zach shook his head. “Seth is in Mozambique. And Bastien and Melanie will want to know now. I’ll tell them and take them to him.”
Lisette caught his arm. “Heal Ethan first. I can sense his pain and I’m not even an empath.”
Heather snapped her head toward Ethan. She had been so distracted that she hadn’t realized he was slumping a little more to one side. “Ethan?”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, sending her another of those smiles that made her heart race.
Sighing, Zach crossed to Ethan and flattened a hand on Ethan’s chest.
Within seconds, Ethan’s shoulders straightened and his face regained some color.
“Thank you,” Ethan said when Zach broke the contact.
Zach gave him an abrupt nod and disappeared.
“He healed your wounds?” Heather asked.
Ethan nodded.
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see?”
Smiling, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to his armpits, revealing a torso—front and back—that now bore no wounds.
Heather stared. “That’s incredible.”
Chris looked at Lisette and cocked a brow as Ethan lowered his shirt. “So when did the two immortal black sheep suddenly become best buddies?”
Lisette laughed. “Zach and Bastien both have dark pasts, couldn’t care less who likes them or who doesn’t, and share an appalling lack of concern over pissing off Seth. How could they not gravitate toward each other?”
Shaking his head, Chris turned back to Heather. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be away from the network long, so . . .” He motioned to the sofa. “Shall we get down to business?”
She nodded, relaxing a little when Ethan took her hand in his and linked their fingers. In short order, Heather found herself seated on the sofa between Ethan and the lovely French immortal.
Chris grabbed the chair Ethan had vacated and positioned it on the opposite side of the coffee table. Seating himself in it, he faced them. “I understand you helped Ethan defeat some vampires this morning, Heather. Thank you for that.”
Heather shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t think I helped him all that much.”
“She did,” Ethan countered.
Chris removed some papers from his briefcase and flipped through them. “I assume Ethan has explained that you’re a gifted one and what that means?”
“Yes
. He said my DNA is advanced.”
“Very advanced,” Chris said. “Fortunately none of your doctors have caught on to that fact thus far.” He set the papers on the coffee table and met her gaze. “You didn’t come to my attention until you moved to North Carolina a couple of years ago.”
He had known about her before today? “What happened then?” she asked warily.
“I was sent your file from the West Coast division of the network. We’ve known about you and have been watching over you since your birth.”
She looked at Ethan. “That’s a little creepy.”
“I know it seems so,” Lisette interjected, “but had you suffered an ailment or injury that brought your differences to light, the network would have been prepared to protect you.”
Heather considered her words and those Ethan had spoken earlier, but still found it disturbing to know someone had been tracking her movements all these years.
Chris leaned back in his chair. “We do the same for all gifted ones who come to our attention. But I admit I’ve been watching you more closely than the others. Because of your unique connections . . .”
She arched a brow. “I assume you’re talking about my father?”
“Your father,” he confirmed, “as well as your connections with various law enforcement and . . . other . . . agencies. The fact that you’ve managed to make a career for yourself doing what you do without revealing your gift impressed the hell out of me. It’s shown me you’re smart. You’re a swift thinker. And you’re good at keeping secrets.”
Beside her, Ethan tensed. “You had better not be going where I think you are with this.”
Chris’s eyes never left Heather. “I could use someone like you on my team.”
“Chris!” Ethan barked, sitting forward.
“I’d like you to consider working for the network,” Chris continued, undeterred.
“Hell no!” Ethan growled, his face darkening.
Heather glanced up at Lisette, unsure what to make of this.
The Frenchwoman’s brow furrowed as she watched the two.
Chris—calm, cool, and collected—looked to Ethan. “It’s not your decision to make.”
When Ethan opened his mouth, Heather hurried to speak. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”
Ethan scowled down at her, radiating fury. “He wants you to become one of his informants.”
“Okay. But what does that mean exactly?” And why was Ethan so against it?
“It means,” Chris explained, “you would continue to do what you’re doing now. You would just keep your eyes, ears, and mind open while doing it, and let me know if anything unusual comes up. Anything that might be related to vampires or immortals and the virus that infects them. Or anything related to gifted ones.”
Kind of vague. But it didn’t seem all that difficult. Hell, she had been working with law enforcement agencies and the military for several years now and had heard nothing of the sort. What were the chances she would now?
Chris removed a small spiral notebook from an inner pocket of his jacket, along with a stubby number two pencil. He scribbled something down on the top sheet of paper, then tore it out of the notebook and handed it to Heather. “This would be your annual salary.”
Heather looked down at the piece of paper and felt her eyes widen. “Wow. That’s a lot of zeroes.” She looked up at Ethan. “Why don’t you want me to do it?”
“Tell her,” Ethan ordered Chris, his eyes clinging to hers.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Chris lean forward and brace his elbows on his knees. “There is an element of danger,” he said. “Of risk. It’s actually one of the reasons I haven’t approached you with this before now.”
Ethan shot Chris a disbelieving look. “An element of danger?”
Chris ignored him. “Until recently, my contacts primarily aided us in keeping vampires, immortals, and gifted ones a secret. They kept their ears peeled for whispers that someone may have seen or heard something, then let us know—if they did—so we could take care of it. But problems have arisen during the past few years that have changed that. My contacts now have to keep an eye out for any indication that the agencies or military outfits they work for have learned of the virus and its potential use as a weapon—”
“A weapon?” Heather interrupted. “What kind of weapon?”
Lisette answered her. “The kind that can produce a race of supersoldiers that cannot be defeated by traditional armies and weapons.”
Oh shit.
“Exactly,” Ethan said, reading her expression.
“It’s made things trickier,” Chris said. “The stakes are higher.”
“Tell her what happened to your last group of informants,” Ethan bit out.
Chris’s lips tightened.
Heather looked back and forth between them. “What happened to them?”
Ethan’s eyes once more locked on hers. “They were tortured and killed, their spouses and children killed alongside them, by our enemies.”
Her heart began to slam against her ribs.
Ethan’s look softened, as did his voice. “It isn’t worth it, Heather. You’ve already risked your life once to help me. I don’t want you to risk it again.”
“She wouldn’t be,” Chris insisted. “Not necessarily. Because of her gift, she wouldn’t have to do any physical snooping, wouldn’t have to dip into classified files or sneak into areas of the building she wasn’t supposed to access and disrupt satellite feeds or take keyhole surveillance photos for us. She’s telepathic. All she would have to do is listen to the thoughts of the men and women around her. That’s it. Nothing more. Then, if she heard something about vampires or immortals or gifted ones, she could give me a call from an encrypted, untraceable phone once she gets home.”
Lisette covered Heather’s other hand. “I agree with Ethan. It’s too risky.”
“No one would know she’d heard anything,” Chris insisted. “No one would even know she was reading their thoughts—”
“The Other would know,” Lisette interrupted.
The air suddenly grew heavy.
“The Other would know,” Lisette repeated, “if his destructive desires took him to one of the agencies she works for. He would know it as soon as he looked into her thoughts, perhaps as soon as she walked into the room.”
Heather studied the somber expressions of her companions. “The other what?”
“That’s classified,” Chris said, spearing Ethan with a meaningful look. “And it will remain classified even after she signs the confidentiality agreement until I say otherwise.”
Ethan responded with a stiff nod.
Heather thought it odd that a human would give orders to two powerful immortal beings. The fact that Ethan and Lisette obeyed seemed even odder.
Lisette patted her hand. “Chris keeps us safe. We bow to his wishes because we trust his judgment.”
Ethan sighed, his expression losing much of the anger that had tightened it. “We spend our nights hunting. We don’t have time to learn all of the new technology that constantly inundates society. Don’t know what threats it may pose. Can’t anticipate the problems it will spawn. Chris does that for us. He and the other mortals who work for the network are the reason society still knows nothing about us. They’ve proven to be invaluable allies over the millennia, helping us defeat our enemies with a minimum of losses. Chris may be a pain in our asses . . .”
Chris grunted.
“But he gets the job done. Whatever we need, he finds a way to provide, even when it seems impossible.”
“Then why don’t you trust him when he says my becoming an informant wouldn’t be dangerous?” Heather asked, thinking of all those zeroes.
“He didn’t say it wouldn’t be dangerous,” Ethan clarified. “He said it may not be as dangerous for you as it is for some of his other informants. But you could still easily be killed.” He sent Chris an accusing glare.
“I don’t like it any more than you do,�
� Chris gritted. “But we need access to information that only informants can provide. I’ve worked for the network for a long damned time and have never once encountered a human or gifted one who could tap into as many resources for us as Heather can.” When Ethan opened his mouth to rebut, Chris held up a hand. “Do you think this is easy for me, asking someone to do something I know is dangerous? Something that may, somewhere down the line, result in her death? Do you think building a new network of informants is a breeze after losing every one of my former contacts? Not a single day has passed since we found them down in those stinking, reeking cells, with the fucking flies buzzing around their corpses, the mothers still clutching . . .” He clamped his lips shut and looked away. A muscle in his jaw tightened.
What the hell had he seen? Heather wondered. He looked . . . haunted.
Chris rubbed his eyes, appearing weary all of a sudden. “She doesn’t have to do it.” He looked at Heather. “You don’t have to do it. I just had to ask. It’s my job.” He shuffled the papers around on the coffee table. “It’s what I fucking do.”
Lisette and Ethan shared a somber look.
“Here.” Chris pushed several pieces of paper that had been stapled together toward her, then offered her a pen. “Print your name in the space provided, then sign and date it. Initial it in the places I’ve highlighted. Feel free to read it first. We’re just asking you to guarantee your silence regarding all knowledge of gifted ones, immortals, vampires, and the virus that infects the latter. Both the knowledge you possess now and that which you will learn throughout your association with us.”
Heather flipped through it. “What happens if I violate the agreement?”
“Since you’re a gifted one, I’ll just have Seth bury your memories of all of this.”
“And if I weren’t a gifted one?” she couldn’t help but ask.
Silence was his answer.
Chapter Five
Bastien.
Bastien’s eyes flew open. Beside him, Melanie slumbered peacefully, her soft body curled up against his. Seth?
No. Zach.
Bastien frowned. Where are you?
Shadows Strike Page 7
