Shadows Strike

by Dianne Duvall

  Convulsions abruptly shook Ethan’s big body, cutting off his roar. His mouth clamped shut. Blood seeped from between his lips.

  Had he bitten his tongue? Or was he . . . ?

  Ethan’s eyes closed. A long breath left him as his body went limp.

  Seth’s hand lost its glow.

  When Seth released his hold, Ethan’s head lolled forward to hang low. Had Zach not held Ethan’s shoulders, Ethan would have folded over and fallen off the sofa.

  A sob caught in Heather’s throat.

  Was he dead?

  She waited, watching in horror for the first signs that would indicate he was shriveling up like vampires did when they died.

  Seth sank back on his heels. “He needs blood.”

  Relief, almost painful in its intensity, overwhelmed Heather.

  Seth looked up at Zach. “Get David. His will nourish Ethan the most.”

  Nodding, Zach stepped back from the sofa and vanished.

  Heather lunged forward as Ethan began to slump over and guided him down until his head rested in her lap. The backs of her eyes stung with salty tears that spilled over her lashes as she combed her fingers through his hair.

  “Is he okay?” Lisette asked in a choked voice.

  Seth sighed. “We won’t know for sure until he awakens.”

  “Did you at least find the answers you sought?” Heather asked, not quite able to suppress the fury she felt over Seth’s having caused Ethan so much pain.

  “I believe so, but—again—won’t know for certain until he awakens.”

  Zach reappeared with a tall, strikingly handsome man with skin as dark as midnight and pencil-thin dreadlocks that fell to his hips. This was David, the immortal Cliff had mentioned?

  He must be. Cliff had said David was even older and more powerful than Aidan. And this man exuded power.

  “Zach said Ethan needs my blood,” David said, his voice deep. When his gaze found Ethan, David swore. Striding forward, he knelt beside Seth in front of the sofa and started rolling up one sleeve.

  Heather waited for someone to offer him an explanation.

  No one did.

  David gently opened Ethan’s mouth and nudged his upper lip back.

  No fangs.

  When he touched his fingers to Ethan’s jaw, Ethan’s fangs descended.

  David pressed his arm to Ethan’s mouth, shifting it slightly until it was positioned just so, then applied enough pressure to make the fangs sink deep.

  Heather continued to stroke Ethan’s hair.

  Minutes passed, during which she concluded that Seth and David were communicating telepathically. She would have tried to listen in, but her own thoughts were too chaotic for her to focus.

  David glanced at her. “You must be Heather.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m David.” He offered her his free hand.

  Heather shook it, her small hand swallowed by his.

  When she would’ve withdrawn it, David tightened his hold on her fingers and gave them a squeeze. “Thank you for saving our boy’s life last night.”

  She nodded, but said nothing as bitterness flooded her. Yes, she had saved Ethan’s life. But for what? So Seth could nearly take it or give him brain damage?

  David gave her hand another squeeze, then let it go. “Our world can be a dangerous one,” he confided, his voice kind. “Sometimes it compels us to make difficult decisions, not unlike the one you made last night when you threw yourself between Ethan and the vampire’s blade. I know you’re angry. But please keep in mind that Ethan made this decision. Not Seth. Seth didn’t even suggest it. He takes no pleasure in harming those he loves.”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. Had he and Seth and Lisette all heard her thoughts? Her silent accusations?

  She forced herself to look at Seth, saw the self-condemnation in his dark eyes, and blinked back tears. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . afraid for him.”

  “As am I,” he admitted, then nodded to David. “That should be enough.”

  As David withdrew his arm, Ethan’s fangs receded.

  Heather had hoped that whatever blood did for immortals and vampires would make Ethan rouse swiftly. But it didn’t.

  Lisette cleared her throat. “Why don’t we make him more comfortable? He can rest in one of the bedrooms downstairs.”

  While they waited to see how much damage had been wrought.

  Ethan bit back a groan as darkness fell away and light brightened the backs of his closed lids. His head hurt like a bitch. What the hell?

  He started to raise his right hand to grip his forehead and try to force back the ache, but couldn’t. A weight rested upon it.

  Cracking open heavy lids, he squinted down.

  Heather. They lay in bed together, Ethan beneath the covers and Heather above them. Almost as they had in the infirmary. Only this wasn’t the infirmary.

  He squinted at the room around them. Lit by the glow of a solitary candle, it seemed vaguely familiar. Was this . . . Richart’s room at Lisette’s house? Or Étienne’s room?

  Why did the candle seem so damned bright? Looking at it increased the pounding in his head, so he returned his attention to Heather.

  “She hasn’t left your side,” a voice ventured softly.

  Ethan glanced over and found Lisette standing in the open doorway, garbed in hunting clothes. “What happened?”

  Her pale, slender throat moved in a swallow. “Do you know me?”

  “Know you how?” he asked, confusion mingling with the pain in his head.

  “Do you recognize me?” she asked, taking a step into the room.

  “Of course, Lisette. What the hell is going on? What happened?”

  “Do you know your name?” she pressed. “Do you know her name?”

  “Yes. I’m Ethan and she’s Heather. Why are you behaving so oddly? And why do you look like you’re about to cry? Did something happen to Zach?”

  A tear spilled over her lashes. Swiping a hand across her cheek, she shook her head.

  Alarm shook him. “Lisette . . .”

  She held up a hand, then pulled a cell phone from her back pocket and dialed.

  “Yes?” he heard Seth answer.

  “He’s awake.”

  Seth appeared beside Lisette. Zach crowded into the doorway behind her.

  Seth approached the bed. “How do you feel?”

  “Alarmed. What the hell happened?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Heather roused as his voice rose. When she lifted her head and saw Ethan staring back at her, she stilled. “Ethan?”

  “Yeah?”

  Lunging upward, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “I was so afraid,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. “I thought he’d killed you.”

  And it all came rushing back.

  “Oh shit.” Ethan looked to Seth. “You read my mind.” And he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the elder had found up there.

  “You remember?” Seth asked. “You remember everything leading up to my reading your mind?”

  “Yes. Heather nearly died when we fought vampires at her home. You healed her and took us to the infirmary. We both slept. Then you brought us here and . . .” He looked from Seth to Zach and back. “What did you find?”

  “You remember all of it?” Seth pressed.

  “Yes. Zach held me still and tried to ease the pain. You touched my face. Then it felt like someone fucking Tasered my head.” He glanced around. “I’m not sure how I got down here, though. I must have blacked out.”

  Relief swept Seth’s features. “You did. And everything is good. I found nothing in your mind that would indicate that Gershom has been manipulating you. No scar tissue that would indicate memories had been erased, although—since you’re immortal—erasing memories may not cause scarring. But there were no instructions or directions or impulses or even dreams planted in your subconscious.”

  Ethan sighed, the tension leaving his limbs. “That’s
good.”

  “Even better,” Seth said, smiling, “I tried to plant a command of my own in your subconscious to prevent you from remembering the pain I had caused you or that I had dabbled in your mind, and it clearly didn’t take. I assume your gift would not allow it. So I firmly believe it would be impossible for Gershom to use you in such a fashion, to plant any commands without your remembering him doing it as you did this. You are impervious to mind control.”

  The relief that statement spawned was heady, leaving Ethan a little light-headed. Or maybe he was still recovering from Seth plowing through his brain.

  Heather sat up beside him and helped him ease up to lean against the headboard. “So, that’s a good thing, right?”

  “A very good thing,” Seth assured her. “Ethan can rest easy now that Gershom can’t use his hard head against us.”

  Ethan laughed, then groaned and clutched his head as pain shot through it.

  Seth moved closer, leaned down, and touched his fingers to Ethan’s forehead.

  Instant relief.

  “Thank you.”

  Seth withdrew his touch. “I’m sorry, Ethan.”

  Ethan shook his head. “You were just doing what I asked you to do.”

  Lisette cleared her throat. “If Ethan can’t be used as a weapon against us, what interest could Gershom have in him?”

  Zach curled an arm around her shoulders. “I think we can safely conclude now that Ethan isn’t the one who interests him. I think Heather is his target.”

  Ethan took Heather’s hand.

  His target for what?

  Seth left. Zach and Lisette headed . . . Heather wasn’t sure where. Upstairs, she thought, since she couldn’t hear anything down here. No movement. No muted conversation.

  Sliding off the bed, she crossed to the door and closed it.

  “Are you okay?” Ethan asked with touching concern as she returned and climbed back onto the huge bed.

  She nodded. “Are you?”

  He smiled. “I’m good.”

  Heather knelt beside him and sat back on her heels. “What about your head? Does it still hurt?”

  “No. David’s blood helped me heal and Seth took away the pain.”

  “Good.”

  Silence fell. Then they both spoke at the same time.

  “Ethan—”

  “Heather—”

  They laughed.

  “Go ahead,” Ethan said. “You first.”

  She nodded, a little nervous all of a sudden. “I like you, Ethan.”

  His smiled softened. “I like you, too.”

  “I mean I really like you. Every time I’m around you, I feel a connection to you that I’ve never felt before. I know the dreams make me feel as if we’ve known each other longer than we have, but it’s more than that. You make me laugh. And I always want to spend more time with you than we have together. I can’t wait to see you again when we’re apart . . .” Her heart began to pound. “I know I told you I was ridiculously old-fashioned when it comes to sex. And I am. Normally I would spend a lot more time getting to know you before I jumped into bed with you, but . . .”

  His eyes turned watchful. “But?”

  Heather shook her head. “I don’t know how much time we have. I almost died two nights ago. You almost died last night. This Other is screwing with my head for who knows what reason and . . .” Leaning forward, she clasped his face between her hands and lowered her lips to his.

  His mouth parted, eager to join with hers. Her pulse leapt when his tongue began to tease and tempt hers. Sliding his arms around her, Ethan pulled her off balance so she toppled over onto his hard, muscled chest.

  Heather ended the long, desperate kiss, already breathless. Raising her head a few inches, she stared down into Ethan’s glowing amber eyes. “I want to make love with you, Ethan. I don’t know what tonight will bring or tomorrow night and I don’t care at the moment. I just want to feel your body against mine and lose myself in you for the day.”

  He brushed the fingers of one hand across her cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you just doing this because you think your days are numbered and you don’t want to die without having sex one last time?”

  “I’m doing this,” she corrected, “because I think Zach is right. I think I’m Gershom’s target. I don’t know why he keeps screwing with my head, but it’s probably going to get me killed. So, yes, I believe my days are numbered. And I don’t want to die without making love with you.” She stroked his handsome face. “I think, if we were given time, we could have something together, Ethan. Something that doesn’t even come along once in a lifetime for some people. Just talking and shooting the breeze with you has been more fun for me than sex with my ex-boyfriends ever was.”

  “Your ex-boyfriends must have really sucked in bed.”

  As she laughed, a line from one of her favorite movies came to her. “Have you ever seen that movie Romancing the Stone?”

  He nodded. “That’s the one about Joan Wilder, the romance author, right?”

  “Yes. Joan says something to Jack—while they’re trying to find the treasure—that summarizes perfectly how I feel about you.”

  “What does she say?”

  Heather brushed her lips against his. “You’re the best time I’ve ever had, Ethan.”

  His eyes flashed brighter seconds before his hand locked on the back of her head and brought her lips down to his for a crushing, pulse-spiking kiss.

  Chapter Ten

  Heat coursed through Ethan¸ replacing the cold left behind in the wake of his headache. His body hardened. His heart raced, slamming against his ribs so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if Heather could feel it. Rolling her beneath him, he devoured her, his tongue diving between her lips to stroke and tease and tempt. Damn, she tasted good.

  He clutched her tighter, slid a thigh between hers as he drew a hand over her hair, her slender, vulnerable neck, and down to clasp a full breast. So perfect.

  She moaned as he kneaded the soft flesh and drew a thumb across the hardened peak that pressed against the fabrics of her shirt and bra.

  He heard Lisette murmur something about earbuds upstairs seconds before music rose on the morning. Music he knew she played loud enough to drown out Ethan and Heather’s lovemaking. Lisette had never soundproofed her bedrooms. She had never felt the need to. So assaulting her sensitive ears with loud music was the only way she could afford them privacy.

  Zach, on the other hand, lacked that luxury. He had to remain on guard at all times. If he followed Lisette’s example, he wouldn’t hear it if Gershom teleported down to this bedroom and attacked or did whatever the hell else he had in mind.

  It really chapped Ethan’s ass that Zach would hear them. Would hear every moan and groan and sigh of ecstasy. But Heather was right. Both of them had nearly died in the past forty-eight hours. They had no idea how much time they would have together, and didn’t have the luxury of waiting until they had complete privacy.

  Ethan just hoped Zach would never give Heather any indication that he had heard them.

  Heather buried her fingers in Ethan’s hair, slid a leg up over his hip.

  “Let’s get these clothes off,” he murmured, frustrated by the material that separated them.

  “Okay.” Sitting up, she reached for his shirt and tugged it up out of his pants.

  Ethan sat up and raised his arms to help her pull it over his head.

  She tossed the shirt aside, then drank him in with a heated gaze. “Holy crap, you’re gorgeous,” she whispered, her eyes burning with need.

  Need and something else. Unease?

  “What’s wrong?” Ethan asked, touching her face. “Have you changed your mind?”

  Heather studied every inch of Ethan’s body. His broad shoulders. The heavy muscles of his chest and arms and abs. So perfect. And she was anything but.

  She met his glowing gaze, “No. It’s just . . .”

  He raised his eyebrows and sent her an encouraging smi
le. “What?”

  Heather loosed a miserable sigh and mentally cursed every man she had ever dated. “You’re perfect,” she declared, and cringed when it emerged almost as an accusation.

  He grinned. “And you’re not?”

  “No, I’m not,” she said. “Trust me when I say I’m aware of every single one of my flaws because my damned telepathy allowed me to hear past boyfriends mentally catalog them.”

  All levity fled his handsome, perfect features. “I don’t understand. What flaws? I don’t see any.”

  “You will when I’m naked,” she muttered, cursing the insecurity instilled in her by the men of her past.

  He considered her thoughtfully. “How attached are you to those clothes?”

  Heather blinked. “Not very. Why?”

  He blurred.

  Heather felt a tug and looked down. Her mouth fell open. “Holy crap!” She was completely naked.

  Ethan laughed. “One of the perks of being immortal.”

  She reached for the covers.

  Ethan captured her hand and brought it to his lips, stopping her. “Don’t. Let me see you.”

  She swallowed. “What about you? You’re still semi-clothed.”

  Rolling off the bed, he stood beside it, blurred, then stilled, as bare as she was.

  Wow. Ethan could easily grace the pages of one of those hunky guy calendars. His body was perfectly sculpted, thick with muscle, and very aroused.

  She swallowed.

  “Now,” he said, his voice lowering to a purr as he knelt on the bed beside her, “let me see if I can find all of these flaws the imbeciles you dated in the past thought they saw. Lie back.”

  Heather did as ordered, her heart pounding in her chest.

  Ethan clasped one of her hands and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm. A little jolt of desire shot through her when he nipped it with his teeth, then soothed it with his tongue. Releasing her hand, he slid his fingers up her arm. Every inch of flesh he touched tingled, making her burn with renewed passion. Over her shoulder. Across her collarbone. And down.

  Her breath caught when he closed his large hand over her breast.

  “Beautiful,” he proclaimed in a hoarse whisper, then tweaked the sensitive tip with fingers and thumb.