Darkness Dawns (36 page)

Though the satellite image was due any minute, the wait was excruciating.

Roland continued to feel uneasy about leaving Sarah with only mortals to protect her.

Lisette offered him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure she’s fine, Roland.”

Was she reading his thoughts?

Étienne nodded, eyeing him as if he were an exhibit in a damned science fair.

Seth continued to stare through the brush at the vampires’ lair.

“Okay, here it comes,” Marcus said, drawing their attention.

As Roland and the others gathered around him, an image similar to what Chris had shown them at the meeting appeared on the small screen. Vampires showed up as violet blobs, the humans showed up yellow.

The red blob was notably absent.

Roland scowled. “Where the hell is Bastien?”

Frowning, Marcus touched the screen. “I don’t know. Hang on.” The image doubled, then tripled in size.

As Roland watched, dread rising inside him, Marcus searched the image quadrant by quadrant and confirmed Bastien’s absence.

“He isn’t there.” Marcus glanced at the others. “Do you think he heard us coming and bolted?”

Seth shook his head. “I would’ve heard him.”

Something like panic struck Roland, tightening around his heart like a fist. “He’s gone after Sarah.”

“We don’t know that,” Étienne cautioned just as Seth’s head snapped around.

“What is it?” Lisette asked.

Then they all heard it.

A black-clad figure shot from the forest on the far side of the house and entered the back door with preternatural speed. Though the man’s face was covered by a mask, Roland knew it was Bastien.

“Anyone get a look at what he was carrying?” Marcus asked.

A scent came to Roland on the breeze.

Fangs burst from his gums and all rational thought fled as rage engulfed him. “It’s Sarah.”

And she was bleeding.

Moments later, he was tearing the front door off the farmhouse and sprinting inside. Two humans jumping up from the sofa went ignored as he darted past them and flew down the stairs to the basement.

The large main room was empty and offered up four hallways from which he could choose.

Roland didn’t hesitate, charging through the only one on the right and plunging into darkness his eyes had no trouble piercing. Almost immediately, the hallway branched off into a number of others, forming an intricate maze that would have slowed Roland substantially if Bastien hadn’t been carrying Sarah.

Her scent lit his way like a candle, guiding him unerringly through an endless series of twists and turns.

“
Awaken, vampires!
” Bastien bellowed ahead of him. “
The immortals have found us!
”

Roland’s heart slammed against his ribs as he continued forward at top speed. The sounds of battle soon broke out behind him. Gunshots sounded above.

How badly was Sarah hurt? Was she dying? Was she afraid? Did she know he was coming? Would she ever forgive him?

How could he have left her like that? Why had he risked it?

Bastien was
nothing
to him. Sarah was
everything.

He would kill Bastien for hurting her. For touching her. For even looking at her fucking cross-eyed!

What had he done to her? How badly had he hurt her? Was she suffering?

She couldn’t die. Roland wouldn’t let her. Couldn’t lose her.

Light bloomed ahead.

There. Up and to the left.

Head down, fangs gleaming, Roland charged forward.

Lisette groaned as she watched Roland cover the distance to the farmhouse’s front door in a blink, rip it off its hinges, and vanish inside. “So much for stealth.”

All but Seth hastily donned their masks.

“
Awaken, vampires!
” a voice bellowed from within. “
The immortals have found us!
”

“How many did you count?” Seth asked grimly.

“Fifty-seven vamps below,” Marcus said. “Four humans above.”

“If you can prevent Roland from killing Sebastien, do so.”

Seth raced for the farmhouse first, followed by Marcus, then Lisette and Étienne.

The French immortals burst inside just as the first two vanished through the door that led to the basement. Two human minions stood gaping in front of a threadbare sofa.

Lisette nodded to her brother. “Go on. I’ll see to the humans.”

He vanished in a blur.

As she turned to face the minions, they drew handguns and fired. Lisette ducked to the side, slipped behind them, and snapped both their necks. She had been born with the ability to read others’ thoughts and theirs had been seriously sadistic.

“I hope Bastien was oblivious to your true natures,” she murmured, “because, if he wasn’t, he isn’t worth saving.”

Another of their ilk came running from the kitchen, guns blazing. He died quickly, too.

As the sounds of battle rose from below, she sped down a hallway to the room that had contained the last yellow blob from the satellite image and kicked the door open.

The room was a combination home office and library. The sole occupant was roughly six feet tall, blond, and blue-eyed, with a handsome, youthful face and world-weary eyes.

Lisette guessed he was around thirty-five and, after rapidly scanning his thoughts, definitely worth salvaging.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, yanking earbuds blasting metal music out of his ears. When sounds of violence trickled in through the door, he drew a 9mm and pointed it at her. “What the hell is going on?”

Lisette pulled her mask off and drew in a deep breath.

Damned thing made her feel like she was suffocating.

Male appreciation wafted over her. Smiling with a flash of fang, she tucked the mask in her belt. “You might as well put that away,” she advised, nodding at the gun.

His eyes widened and his mouth came dangerously close to falling open. “There are female vampires?”

She chuckled. “Of course there are. But, fortunately for you, I am
not
a vampire. Otherwise I would have already ripped out your throat.”

He paled. “You’re one of
them?
”

“Define ‘them,’” she said, strolling toward him across the long, narrow room.

“Immortal Guardians,” he sneered.

She shook her head. “I see you are as confused as your employer. As Bastien will soon learn,
we
are the good guys.”

“You’re murderers.”

She shrugged. “We only kill those who prey upon the
innocent. Vampires, on the other hand, kill anyone who strikes their fancy.”

“That’s not true.” He grabbed some papers off the desk with his free hand and held them up. “Bastien’s vampires only kill pedophiles.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Like the one who murdered your son?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “How do you know about that?”

“The vampires didn’t just kill the men on that list. They killed the men’s wives, sons, daughters, grandchildren, and many others who were either oblivious to those men’s sickness or had been victimized by it themselves.”

“That’s … That can’t be. Bastien wouldn’t allow that.”

“Bastien doesn’t know. That’s why we’re here. We’ve seen the police reports and intend to put a stop to it.”

A masculine throat cleared in her head.
I hate to interrupt your little chat,
her brother said,
but Roland has gone off to kill Bastien, leaving Seth, Marcus, and me to face the
fifty-seven
vampires spewing forth from the hallways down here. So, if you wouldn’t mind wrapping it up, we could really use some help.

Lisette grinned.

The blond eyed her warily and took a step back. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m afraid my brother has summoned me. Time’s up.”

Before he could blink, she leapt over the desk, knocked the gun from his grasp, and yanked the computer’s power cord from the wall.

“Relax,” she said as she easily restrained him long enough to bind his hands behind his back. “I’m not going to kill you.” Shoving him into his chair, she yanked the ethernet cord from both the wall and the computer and bound his ankles as well.

“You can’t just leave me like this,” he said somewhat desperately as she tied it off. “If you’re telling the truth, won’t
the vampires kill me if they find me like this and Bastien isn’t around to stop them?”

“Don’t worry.” She gave his knee a pat as she rose. “When we’re finished here, there won’t be any vampires left.”

A little faster, please,
her brother gritted out.

I’m on my way.

Roland surged into a square room with cement walls that opened onto a smaller room on the opposite side. Unlike the heart of the basement, which had been furnished like a living room/game room, this chamber boasted only a single tattered armchair. The next room appeared to be empty except for the thick chains and heavy manacles attached to one wall.

Bastien was leaning over Sarah, who was seated in the chair.

Incensed, Roland launched himself at the bastard, knocking him away from her and into the wall beyond.

“Sarah!” he called.

She didn’t answer.

Grabbing Bastien by the neck, he hurled him across the room and into the wall with such force that a crater formed in it.

Roland risked a quick glance at her.

She was slumped in the chair, eyes closed, hair falling forward to conceal much of her face.

“
Sarah!
”

He glimpsed none of the blood he smelled and didn’t think there was a large quantity of it.

Had Bastien drunk from her? Was that why she wouldn’t rouse? Had Bastien attempted to drain her?

Roland couldn’t see her neck for her hair but feared that was it.

Roaring his fury, he drew his sais.

Don’t kill him,
Seth’s voice spoke in his head.

He hurt Sarah. All bets are off.

As a stunned Bastien, who clearly hadn’t expected Roland to negotiate his maze so swiftly, picked himself up off the ground, Roland leapt the distance between them and swung.

Mere inches from Bastien’s neck, the sais rebounded as though they had struck a shield.

I said, don’t kill him,
Seth spoke, uncompromising.

Damn you,
Roland snarled, arms smarting as he watched Bastien stumble backward and draw two short swords.

Beat him. Bruise him. Maim him if you must. But leave him alive, Roland. This is nonnegotiable.

Bastien swung. Metal clashed.

The younger immortal didn’t have a hope in hell of emerging the victor. Roland was seven hundred years older. Seven hundred years stronger and swifter. For every gash Bastien inflicted, Roland scored four.

And relished every one.

He was relentless, constantly pressing forward, forcing Bastien onto the defensive, keeping his body between his opponent and Sarah at all times.

Dodging one of Bastien’s swings, Roland kicked the sword from his hand, then slashed open Bastien’s forehead and cheek, barely missing his eye. Blood gushed, partially blinding the prick as he brought his other sword up into Roland’s side.

Roland didn’t even flinch, just shoved him back and kept hammering away, cutting and hitting and kicking the crap out of him.

Bastien’s other sword went flying.

Dropping one of his sais, Roland grabbed Bastien by the
hair, swung him around, and slammed him face-first into the wall.

Dust and cement slivers erupted outward.

“What did you do to her?” he growled.

When Bastien struggled, Roland drew the immortal’s head back and slammed his face into the wall again.

Cement cracked. Bones snapped. Blood spurted from Bastien’s nose.

“
What did you do to her?
”

“Fuck you,” Bastien bit out, spitting blood.

Yanking him back, Roland hurled him bodily into the next room. Bastien hit the wall, forming a lightning bolt–shaped crevice in it, then fell to the floor.

Roland crossed to him in an instant, jerking him to his feet. Shoving him back against the wall with a hand clamped around his throat, he pressed the tip of his sai to Bastien’s chest.

Bastien grabbed the hand holding the sai and strained to keep it at bay.

The blade penetrated skin, pressed forward into muscle.

“Every m-minute you fight me,” Bastien choked out, “takes her closer to death.”

Panic piercing him, Roland glanced over his shoulder at Sarah. She was still slumped, unmoving, against the cushions.

Careful not to strike the heart or any major arteries, Roland drove the blade home.

Bastien cried out in agony.

It may not kill him, but it would sure as hell slow him down.

Roland withdrew the blade, hurried into the other room, and knelt before Sarah. Dropping the sai, he cupped her face with bloody hands that trembled.

“Sarah?” he called softly. He could see no bite marks on her neck but could tell by her erratic heartbeat that something was seriously wrong.

“Sarah, sweetling, open your eyes and answer me.”

Her eyelids fluttered, then rose slowly. Her eyebrows drew together in a pained
V.

Roland was so relieved to get a response from her that he damned near burst into tears. “That’s it, love. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

She kept blinking hard and seemed to have difficulty focusing.

“Roland?” she whispered weakly.

“Yes, love, it’s me.”

As her gaze wandered, he gently drew back first one eyelid, then the other. His heart sank. Her right pupil was dilated. The left one wasn’t.

“My head …” Pushing his hand away, she closed her eyes.

Roland brushed her bangs back and found no lump. Checked her temples, the left side of her head. When he pulled back the hair on the right side and saw the blood coming from her ear, his insides went cold.

Edward’s ears had bled as he’d died.

Tunneling his fingers through the dusty strands, Roland cautiously examined her scalp until he met with more blood in the back.

She moaned when he settled his hands over the wound.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Just sit still. The pain will be gone soon. I promise.”