Darkness Rises (Immortal Guardians) (6 page)

He laughed. “Perhaps another night then.”

She stepped back. “On three?”

“On three.”

“Okay. One. Two.” She took off, her slender form blurring as she sped off into the night. “Three!” she called from half a mile away, laughter trailing after her.

Roland’s usually dour face broke into a wide grin as he took off after her.

Zack looked at Ami and found her smiling.

What’s it like?
he asked, curious.

He started to say love. Affection. Friendship.
Nothing. Never mind.

She grimaced.
Ech. My stomach is starting to churn again. I’d better go. I doubt David would appreciate it if I vomited all over his solar panels.

Zach thought David wouldn’t care if Ami puked all over his dreadlocks. The elder immortal just wanted her to be happy and healthy and safe.

Rising, he walked with her over to the ladder and steadied her as she found the rungs with her feet. She didn’t need his aid. She was as sure-footed as a cat. Her condition just made him feel protective.

He frowned.

Would you like to come with me?
she asked.

She smiled and descended the ladder.

Zach retook his position in the center of the roof. Tucking his wings in close, he listened as she returned the ladder to its hangers and went inside.

Quiet enfolded him, broken only by the occasional conversation filtering up from the house.

What the hell are you doing, Zach?
he asked himself. Why was he so drawn to this place? To these people? What had changed?

Was Seth right? Had
he
changed?

He heard Darnell greet Ami inside as he collected kittens from immortals and returned them to whatever basket or box they kept them in. “I’m heading downstairs to challenge the Seconds that are training tonight. How much you wanna bet I beat them?”

Had Ami been the one to make the challenge, Zach knew every dollar would be placed on her. But she hadn’t sparred with the others since she’d learned she was pregnant.

“All at once?” Richart asked before Ami could respond.

“Nah. One or two at a time.”

“I’ll bet a thousand on you,” the Frenchman declared.

“No way,” Étienne said. “There are too many. They’ll tire him out. A thousand on the other Seconds.”

“You’re on.”

“Can I get in on this?” another asked.

“Me, too.”

“Where are
you
going to get a thousand dollars?”

“Bite me.”

They all moved down to the basement, where loud cheering and taunting erupted as the first match began.

They really did seem like one big family. How had Seth accomplished that?

Something stung Zach’s neck. Reaching up, he felt around and found three darts sticking out of it.

Yanking them out, he stared down at them. These weren’t mercenary darts. They were the darts Dr. Lipton had fashioned for the immortals to use against vampires.

He scanned the dark scenery around him, looking for the culprit, and belatedly heard the heartbeat behind him that his thoughts had drowned out.

Casually, he turned. His own heart gave a weird little skip. Lisette, the French immortal, crouched there, her lovely face expressionless.

And her face truly was lovely. He had never been this close to her before. Her skin was pale perfection, her raven hair pulled back from her face in a braid that fell to her waist. Her slender body was clad in a formfitting T-shirt and cargo pants accentuated with holstered Glock 18s. The handles of two sheathed shoto swords peeked at him over her shoulders.

She reminded him of that woman in the
Tomb Raider
games he had seen Darnell and Ami playing.

And her scent . . .

He drew in a deep breath. She smelled even better than Ami. And Ami smelled better than the lollipops she brought him.

A long minute passed during which Lisette stared at him, waiting for the tranquilizer to take effect. Little did she know the drug would have no more effect on him than it would on Seth.

Zach raised an eyebrow.

Her forehead crinkled in a frown. Quick as lightning, she drew three more darts from her pocket and stuck them in his neck.

With slow, deliberate movements, Zach reached up and removed them.

She bit her lip.

“That hurts, you know,” he said softly enough that he hoped those down in the house wouldn’t hear it over the sparring noises and boisterous cheers.

A thin wire slipped over his head from behind and jerked across his neck, shutting off air.

“Not as much as this will, asshole,” a male voice growled in his ear.

It carried a British accent, so it wasn’t one of her brothers.

What exactly was going on here?

Before Zach could ponder further, a figure appeared on the roof beside him. Sarah met Zach’s gaze, took in the piano wire choking him, glanced at Lisette—who looked guilty as hell—then turned her attention to the man behind Zach.

“Hi,” Sarah said.

“You followed me?” that one growled.

Ah. Roland.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Curiosity. You wouldn’t say why you were coming back and told me not to follow you, which left me no choice but to do so.”

Both spoke as softly as Zach had.

Roland grunted.

“So,” she said.

“So?” Roland parroted.

“Watcha doin’?”

“Lisette has some questions for this one.”

“Uh-huh. And . . . you thought this was the best way to elicit answers?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. You don’t think . . . maybe . . . this sort of thing might be why everyone calls you antisocial?”

“Considering the questions, I thought he would likely be uncooperative.”

“Oh.” She studied Zach, then looked at Lisette. “Ohhhhhh.” Her brows drew together. “Is this a lover’s quarrel kind of thing? Did he do something to piss you off?”

Lisette looked uncomfortable.

“He didn’t cheat on you, did he?” Sarah asked, all concern. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”

Zach watched Lisette, ignoring the pain in his throat and the burn beginning to fill his lungs.

Lisette visually consulted Roland over Zach’s shoulder. “It isn’t about me.”

“Then who is it about?” Sarah asked.

Roland must have mouthed a name, because—though Zach heard nothing—Sarah’s eyes blazed a bright luminescent green, very rare amongst immortals. “Really.” She moved, silently circling around to stand with her husband at Zach’s back. “Let me give you a little help with that, sweetie.”

In all of his thousands of years of existence, Zach didn’t think anything so peculiar had ever happened to him.

Or so intriguing.

Or entertaining.

As the husband-and-wife team slowly choked him toward unconsciousness, he pondered what to do. He could make enough noise to draw David’s attention. But David wouldn’t appreciate his presence here any more than Seth would.

He could teleport away. But anyone touching him would go with him. So he would only escape Lisette, and she was the most interesting person here.
She
was the reason he hadn’t yet attempted to secure his freedom.

Roland planted a boot in Zach’s back and pulled harder.

Roland had said Lisette wanted to talk to him. That she had some questions for Zach.

What kind of questions?

How did she even know about him?

How had she detected his presence when Seth and David hadn’t?

His heartbeat sounded loudly in his ears as his lungs hungered for oxygen.

Zach couldn’t seem to find the will to fight them. He wanted to know what Lisette wanted from him. Had Roland and Sarah stopped trying to suffocate him and stepped back, he didn’t think he would have left.

Hmm.
He could just go with it.

The idea appealed to him far more than it should. He wasn’t supposed to care about this. Any of it. Or these people.

But his damned curiosity wouldn’t leave him be.

And Seth hadn’t been far from the truth when they had spoken in South Korea. The numbness
was
wearing off. Boredom
had
set in. Zach was drowning in it. And he would do just about anything, including allow the odd couple behind him to force him into unconsciousness, to swim his way back to the surface and leave it behind him.

A very dangerous mind-set that had already gotten him into trouble once.

His eyes locked on Lisette’s face.

Fuck it. He wanted to know.

The smile he gave her as darkness enfolded him must have puzzled the hell out of her.

 

 

Lisette stared down at the unconscious male Roland dumped onto the floor of the safe house they had claimed for the day.

He was incredibly handsome. Dark, wavy hair fell below his shoulders. A muscled chest devoid of hair tapered to a narrow waist and slim hips encased in black leather.

Her gaze went to his wings.

They were beautiful. The same tan as his skin at their base, the nearly translucent wings darkened to black at their tips and would span twelve or fourteen feet when fully extended.

The man himself was taller than Seth, who stood a good six foot eight or thereabouts.

“Do you know him?” she asked Roland as he left the room.

“No.” He returned, carrying titanium chains thicker than her biceps that humans would probably have to use a forklift to move. Dumping the lot on the floor, he crouched next to their prisoner.

“Is he an immortal?” Sarah asked as she took a position beside her husband, weapons drawn.

“He must be,” Roland mumbled, taking the man by the throat and dragging him upright. “Vampires don’t have wings.”

“Wait.” Lisette halted him before he could start wrapping the man in chains. Hurrying to the only bedroom in the small house, she yanked the covers off the bed and took them into the living room.

“What’s that for?” Roland asked with a scowl.

She knelt beside him. “If he’s immortal, Seth won’t respond well to him being damaged.” Dropping the bedding, she leaned forward and tentatively touched one of his wings.

So soft. Like the delicate strands of hair on a newborn baby’s head.

Her heart began to pound as she gently took both wings and folded them in close to his back. Holding them in place with one hand, she wrapped the sheet and blanket around him.

“What’s wrong?” Roland asked with a scowl. “Your heart is beating faster.”

That part of being an Immortal Guardian sucked. There really were very few secrets among their ranks because of their damned heightened senses. “Are you sure he’s an immortal? I can’t smell the virus on him.”

“Can you smell it on me?”

“Barely.”

“What about David and Seth?”

“No.”

“Then there’s your answer. He’s an immortal. He just must be old as hell.” Once she finished and sat back, he started wrapping the chains around and around the stranger.

“If he’s that old,” Sarah murmured, “wouldn’t you know him, honey?”

Lisette snorted. “As antisocial as Roland is, he wouldn’t even know
me
if I hadn’t made myself a nuisance.”

The dour immortal’s face actually lightened with a smile. “You weren’t the nuisance. Your brothers were.”

She grinned. He may be curt and surly with the others, but he had always been kind to her.

Soon the winged mystery immortal was swathed tightly in chains from his neck to his feet. Why did seeing him like that bother her so? She didn’t know him. Had never met him. And had good reason to dislike him.

“What now?” she asked as the three of them stood in a semicircle and stared down at him.

“We wait until he wakes up, then extract information.”

She glanced at the window. “Dawn is approaching.”

Roland followed her gaze. “Go home. We’ll take first watch.”

“I want to be here when you question him.”

“If he wakes before sunset, we’ll await your return.”

She nodded, strangely reluctant to leave. Giving their prisoner one last look, she said her good-byes, then headed out into the night.

 

 

Étienne paced outside Krysta’s home, listening to her shoot the breeze with her brother while they prepared for the night’s hunt.

This was ridiculous. He had awoken this afternoon, full of anticipation, eager to see Krysta again, and hadn’t wasted a second getting here once the sun had set. Even Cameron, his Second, had noticed something was amiss. He hadn’t said anything, but Étienne had caught the
What’s up with you?
looks Cam had shot him while doling out weapons.

A slender shadow crossed the curtains. Étienne glimpsed Krysta in the living room. She was arming herself with more weapons than he had realized she carried. Damned near as many as
he
carried.

Why did that turn him on?

He sighed.

Was this what he had come to? Stalking her like one of those freaks on the Internet you heard about on the news?

Yes,
he imagined Cam telling him.

Had he really sunk so low?

He had even been tempted to circle around to the other side of the house, peer through her bedroom window, and watch her dress, but that had just seemed too sleazy. Besides, if he ever saw Krysta naked, he wanted it to be on
her
terms with—

Wait. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t going to see Krysta naked. He
couldn’t
see Krysta naked. She bore what was obviously a deep-seated hatred for vampires, from which she didn’t differentiate him, and would destroy him in an instant if given the opportunity.