Darkness Rises ig-4

by Dianne Duvall

  “I won’t make the same mistake twice,” Étienne insisted.

  Another long moment passed.

  Krysta fidgeted.

  Sean said nothing.

  Étienne didn’t have as much difficulty reading Sean as he did Krysta. The younger man was hoping the elders would forbid Krysta from hunting. Not because he feared he might die healing her, but because he feared she might be so badly injured one night that she would die before he could reach her.

  He didn’t want to lose his sister.

  Don’t make me regret this, Seth spoke in Étienne’s head. “I will allow it for now,” he decreed.

  Much to Étienne’s surprise, Krysta didn’t smile with relief.

  “Until we have eliminated the mercenary threat,” he continued. “I would like the two of you to either stay here at David’s home . . .”

  “You are both welcome for as long as you wish,” David said.

  “. . . or remain with Étienne at his,” Seth continued. “You have both now become targets of the mercenaries and will fare better with an immortal’s protection.”

  The rest of the meeting comprised logistics. The siblings opted to stay with Étienne, who couldn’t be more pleased with the decision. Sean would have to refrain from attending classes until this was resolved, but would spend time at network headquarters working with Dr. Lipton and gaining a greater understanding of the virus in the meantime. Krysta would hunt with Étienne at night and train with him during the day.

  Étienne was happier than he would’ve thought about that. Was he already so drawn to her that he would use any excuse to spend time with her? Even if it put her in danger?

  Which it wouldn’t. He would keep her safe and ensure no harm befell her.

  The ride home was quiet.

  When Cam and Sean headed into the house, Étienne held Krysta back.

  Guards still walked the perimeter, he noted, but those near the house had been dismissed.

  She crossed her arms under her breasts and avoided his gaze.

  Once the door closed behind the others, Étienne tilted her chin up. “What troubles you?”

  For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t respond.

  “Am I really a liability?” she asked, voice low.

  He didn’t know how to answer that, whether he should be honest or sugarcoat it. Since he would’ve preferred to hear the truth if he were in her position, he opted for that. “Yes.”

  “Then why did you agree to hunt with me?”

  “Because I know how much hunting means to you. And, though the thought of you continuing to hunt terrifies me, I want you to be happy.”

  At last, she met his gaze. “Why?”

  “Because I care about you.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “I’ve been following you and learning everything I can about you since the night we met. I’ve listened to your conversations with your brother. I’ve caught occasional glimpses of your thoughts. I’ve fought beside you, both when you were awake and while you dreamed.”

  “That was you in my dream?”

  He nodded and tucked her hair behind one ear to expose her troubled features to the moonlight. “I know you,” he said simply.

  She chewed her lower lip. “I don’t want to endanger you, Étienne.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I already have. I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me again.”

  “At the risk of angering you, in this instance I don’t care what you want. If hunting endangers your life, I will do whatever it takes to protect you.” He rested a hand on her lower back and urged her toward the door.

  He loved touching her. Even casually. And he loved that she let him.

  “Now,” he said while she pondered his words, “you’ve already donned hunting clothes. And filched some of the weapons my sister left in her room. Before we embark on the night’s hunt, you may have your pick of the weapons in my armory.”

  “We’re hunting tonight?”

  “If you’re up to it.”

  At last he won a faint smile from her. “I don’t know. What if you don’t have all of the weapons I need?”

  He grinned. “I’m sure we can find something.”

  A minute later his smile broadened as Krysta surveyed, with wide eyes and gaping mouth, the vast array of weaponry in his armory.

  “Ho-ly crap!” she breathed.

  Étienne laughed. “Think you can make do?”

  “Uh . . . yeah. But it may take me several hours to choose.”

  It was quite a selection. He usually kept on hand enough swords of varying lengths and styles, daggers, throwing stars, and more to outfit himself, his brother, his sister, and their three Seconds on any given night. With some left over for immortal visitors.

  She strolled around the room, studying the blades displayed on the walls. “Could I just say holy crap again?”

  Again he laughed. “This is only the portion of my collection that I keep in this home.”

  She looked at him curiously. “You have others?”

  He nodded. “In various countries. Many immortals own multiple homes. When we’ve been stationed in one place for long periods of time, it’s sometimes hard to move on and abandon what we’ve built there.”

  She stopped before a pair of red-handled shoto swords. “May I?”

  He smiled. “Be my guest.”

  She drew one down and slid it from its gleaming sheath. “It’s beautiful.”

  “My sister’s weapon of choice. Though, since the vampire population in this area has swelled, she has also begun to carry a couple of Glocks.” He closed the distance between them. “Here.” He reached for the sword. “Let me serve as your Second tonight.”

  While she stood patiently before him, her eyes never leaving his face, he armed her with all of the weapons he knew she preferred to carry. Shoto swords in sheaths she could conceal beneath a coat. Daggers, in case she was disarmed.

  His heartbeat picked up as he knelt and fastened sheaths to her slender thighs. Rising, he moved even closer to her (just because) and unfastened the belt that rode low on her hips and fell beneath her belly button.

  Her pulse picked up, mirroring his own.

  Slowly, he drew the belt from the first couple of loops on her cargo pants. Once the end was free, he slipped a gun holster onto it, then began threading the belt back through the loops. As he refastened it, he drew in a deep breath and savored her scent.

  “I’m not really a gun kind of girl,” she whispered, leaning forward to nuzzle his throat.

  His body hardened.

  “Tonight you will be,” he murmured gruffly, fingers fumbling with the narrow buckle. “I want you to carry a tranquilizer pistol.”

  She leaned back. “You want me to tranq the vampires?”

  “Those I deem salvageable. I don’t suppose I could talk you into carrying a Glock as well, could I? In case we come up against more mercenaries?”

  She frowned. “I’m afraid the extra holsters and weight of the ammo will restrict my movements.”

  “I’ll carry it for you and toss it to you should the need arise,” he offered.

  “Okay.”

  He gave the belt one last tug, then hesitantly withdrew his hands. “You do know how to use it, don’t you?”

  She snorted. “Of course.”

  Even her confidence turned him on. “I do so love strong women.”

  “Your eyes are glowing,” she commented softly.

  “I want you.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded. Dipping his head, Étienne captured her lips with his own, pouring all of the passion he felt for her into the contact. As it had before, the brush of her lips struck him like lightning, firing his desire like no other ever had. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her up against him.

  Breath catching, she rose onto her toes and slid her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest, her hips to his arousal.

  He swore silently when she tore he
r lips from his.

  “I want you, too,” she admitted.

  He groaned and kissed her again, teasing her lips apart and sliding his tongue within to stroke and dance with hers.

  “Whoa!” Cam blurted.

  Étienne had been so distracted, he hadn’t even heard his Second approach.

  “Ah, hell,” Sean said. “I knew it! I knew she was falling for him!”

  Krysta dropped onto her heels, her lips abruptly leaving his.

  He tightened his hold momentarily before letting her go with a sigh.

  Cam stared at him as Krysta took a couple of steps back and sheepishly met her brother’s unsettled gaze.

  “What?” Étienne demanded irritably.

  “Nothing,” Cam responded. “Just . . . I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  Krysta frowned. “We were just kissing. It’s not like you walked in on us having sex.”

  Étienne fought back another groan. Don’t put that image in my head. I’ll be hard all night.

  She tossed him a startled look, then grinned. Nice.

  He shook his head. Not when we’re fighting vampires, it isn’t.

  She laughed.

  “Hey, don’t knock it,” Cam told Krysta, pointing at Étienne. “Kissing is big for this guy. He hasn’t been on a single date since I started serving as his Second.”

  “Really? How long have you been his Second?”

  “About as long as you’ve been hunting vampires.”

  She winked at Étienne. “Cool.”

  Damned if that didn’t make him want her even more.

  Shaking his head, he motioned for the door. “Let’s get out of here before I do something that will embarrass you in front of your brother.”

  Sean held up a hand, alarm crossing his features. “Wait. You’re just going hunting, right?”

  Krysta rolled her eyes. “No, we’re going to park in Lovers’ Lane and spend the next several hours making out. Of course, we’re going hunting.” She headed past the duo and out into the hallway.

  Cam raised his eyebrows as Étienne approached. “You have everything you need?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll be here if you need us.”

  Étienne followed Krysta down the hallway and out the front door. “Relax,” he heard Cam say inside. “Étienne is a good guy. You can trust him.”

  Cam was a good guy, too. Steady. Somber. Reliable. (Unlike Sheldon, who was still learning and could be a handful.)

  Étienne’s last Second had been killed in a car accident. Étienne hadn’t been able to believe it at the time. The man had survived twenty-five years of backing up an immortal who hunted vampires for a living, then had died because some dumbass had been too busy texting to stop for a red light.

  “So,” Krysta said, skipping down the front steps, “how are we going to do this? Do you pick the campus we investigate or do I and how will we get there?”

  “I thought I would pick the place—I’m thinking Duke again—and drive us there.”

  “Duke sounds great and, for some reason, you driving a car seems weird.”

  He laughed and led the way to the Tesla Model S Cam had backed out of the garage for him while he and Krysta were in the armory. “Why? Because I can run as fast as one?”

  “Yes. And that is totally cool.”

  It really was.

  “Speaking of cool,” she said, admiring the shiny black sedan, “this is nice. Very sleek.”

  “Thank you. It’s electric.”

  Her eyebrows flew up. “Are you serious? I thought all electric cars looked like a toddler’s shoe. This . . . looks like money.”

  He opened the passenger door for her. “I like it, too. There are zero emissions, so my sensitive nose gets a break from exhaust fumes, and I can go up to three hundred miles on a charge.”

  “Daaaaaamn. I—and my bank account—really need one of these. The price of gas has been kicking my ass.”

  He smiled down at her as she sank into the comfortable seat and fastened her seat belt. “You’ll get one if you come to work for us. Every job working for the Immortal Guardians comes with a low or no emission, fuel efficient car of your choice.”

  “No way!”

  He nodded. “Sean will get one, too.”

  “Wait. We’ll each have our own car?”

  “Absolutely.” He closed the door, zipped around to the driver’s side, and sank into the seat Cam had pushed all the way back from the steering wheel.

  The engine started as he buckled his seat belt.

  Krysta’s eyes widened, then fastened on the touch screen.

  Hell, if a cool car would entice her to join them, he’d see that she got two of them. He really didn’t want her to continue hunting. She was mortal. Vulnerable. Fragile. It was only a matter of time before tragedy struck.

  And he didn’t want to think about that.

  Krysta strolled through Duke’s campus, Étienne at her side. Her mind raced with everything she had learned earlier. Her heart raced at his nearness.

  Oddly, it almost felt as if they were out on a date.

  Maybe he was just naturally gallant, opening the car door for her, often guiding her with a hand on her lower back. Even his speech sometimes seemed old worldish.

  He was from another era.

  “This is so weird,” she said.

  “What is?” he asked, his sharp eyes searching every shadow.

  He had said he loved strong women. Well, apparently she adored strong men, because in his warrior mode he was breath-stealingly, heart-racingly appealing.

  Tearing her gaze away from her gorgeous companion, Krysta kept an eye out for glowing orange auras. “Me walking and talking with a man born in the nineteenth century.”

  “Actually, I was born in the eighteenth century. Seventeen eighty three, to be exact.”

  Unreal. She was lusting after a man born over two hundred years before she had been born. “So, you lived through the French Revolution?”

  He nodded. “The Reign of Terror.”

  Honestly she had forgotten almost everything she had learned about the French Revolution and knew only the dates (roundabout) and that thousands had died under the guillotine. She wanted to ask if he had lost anyone to Madame Guillotine, but thought it too morbid. “That must have been . . .”

  “Bad,” he said, his face clouding.

  She shouldn’t have said anything.

  Then she realized . . . “You lived during Napoleon’s reign?”

  He nodded. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he smiled faintly. “Your mouth is hanging open again.”

  “I’ll bet it is.” This was so crazy. “Was Napoleon really short like everyone says?”

  “Oui.”

  “How many languages do you speak?”

  “Not many. I’m fluent in half a dozen or so and know a phrase here or there in half a dozen more.”

  “That many?”

  “Older immortals know far more. Seth knows them all. David, too, most likely.”

  “All?”

  “Even those that have long since been forgotten.”

  Krysta wished she were fluent in more than one language. She had learned Spanish in high school, but had forgotten most of it. And her college career had been cut short by a vampire attack and her resulting obsession with hunting vamps.

  “Say something else in French,” she requested.

  A series of lilting indecipherable words flowed smoothly from his tongue.

  “What did you say?” she asked curiously.

  “Something I can’t repeat without you either blushing furiously or striking me.”

  “Was it naughty?” she asked with a smile.

  His smile turned wicked. “Very naughty.”

  Now she really wanted to know what he had said.

  “Does it trouble you?” he asked hesitantly.

  “What? You talking dirty to me in French?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “No, that I’ve lived so long.
”

  “No.” And she wasn’t sure why. “Maybe because you don’t look your age.”

  He grimaced. “I should hope not.”

  Quiet fell.

  A breeze ruffled their hair. His, she knew from burying her fingers in it, was thick and as soft as silk.

  “This isn’t working,” he pronounced.

  Crap. She shouldn’t have brought up his age. “Why? Is it because you think I’m too young for you?”

  “What?” He stopped walking and faced her. “No. I was talking about our . . . outing.” Hunt, he added in her head, in case someone out of sight was listening.

  “Oh. Right.”

  “You aren’t too young for me.”

  “Of course I’m not.”

  He frowned. “Do you think you’re too young for me?”

  “No.”

  “We’re both adults.”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “There will be cultural differences, of course.”

  “Could make things more interesting.”

  He looked around, eyes sharp. Returning his attention to her, he tilted his head to one side. Moonlight filtered down through the trees and highlighted his handsome face. “What do you say we do this your way?”

  Krysta wasn’t sure how to answer that. Were they talking about pursuing their attraction to each other or hunting? Or both? “What exactly are we talking about?” she asked, just to be sure.

  His lips twitched. “I was talking about our outing. Why? What were you talking about?”

  Smiling, she hit him in the shoulder. “Stop teasing me.”

  He grinned. “Absolutely not. I’m enjoying it too much.” Again, he surveyed the campus around them. “As much as I love your delightful company, I think I should leave now. I’ve work to do and the night is passing quickly.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded and smiled again. “Go do your thing.”

  Was he actually giving her the go-ahead to act as bait? She had assumed he intended to do all the hunting himself and was pretty much just letting her tag along.

  “Okay.” Though she regretted having to give up his company.

  I’ll monitor you from the rooftops, he added telepathically. Anytime you wish to speak to me, just direct your thoughts toward me as though I were standing before you and you were speaking them aloud and I should hear them.