Darkness Rises

A slender shadow crossed the curtains. Etienne 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.



Even if he managed to lessen her desire to decapitate him, there was still the whole mortal-immortal thing. He wasn’t sure she was a gifted one. If her brother was her half brother, she may not possess the advanced DNA needed to transform without becoming vampire. Not that she would want to anyway because of the whole I hate vampires roadblock.



Etienne straightened.



Was he really trying to think his way into a relationship with a woman who wanted him dead? Was he that lonely?



Or was she just that irresistible?



Don’t answer that, he warned himself and blamed all of the happy pappy lovestruck crap that had surrounded him of late for his current confusion. First Roland had fallen in love with Sarah, who clearly was delusional for thinking him sweet.



Then Marcus had found Ami. The jury was still out on whether or not their relationship was going to have a happy ending because Ami had not yet asked Marcus to transform her.



Richart had fallen hard for Jenna, who—Etienne was very pleased to note—made his brother very happy.



Even that bastard Bastien had fallen in love with and married Dr. Lipton.



The jangling of keys shook Etienne from his musings. He ducked out of sight as the front door swung open.



Krysta exited first, her shoto swords clutched in one hand, her coat in the other.



Etienne silently cursed as his pulse picked up its pace.



Sean exited next, carrying a pile of heavy books, and tromped down the stairs.



Etienne had learned from his shameless eavesdropping sessions (there had been more of those than he cared to admit in the two weeks he had been following her) that Sean was in medical school and usually studied in the car while she hunted.



Krysta’s eyes scanned the area as they crossed the yard to their crappy car.



Both doors groaned when pried open. And the damned engine barely turned over.



Though Krysta worked days and Sean weekends, freeing up the nights for hunting, they barely made ends meet.



Etienne had been tempted to call in the network to make all the repairs the car needed, but that would bring the sibling vampire hunters to Chris Reordon’s attention.



Not a good idea.



Etienne raced through the countryside, following the shabby vehicle and making sure forest, field, or structures always hid him from view.



Looked like they were heading for Duke tonight.



The hunt was on.



That’s right, dullards, Krysta thought, mentally smiling as she used Etienne’s term, come along, follow the poor, unsuspecting undergrad who doesn’t know you’re there because she’s busy drunk dialing her ex.



That one was always popular. There were times, in fact, when she could actually hear some of the vampires laugh over the crazy-ass things she said or shouted into the phone while staggering up the path. Perhaps, in another life, she could have been an actress.



There had been no vamp action around the frat houses tonight. Rather she had found them lingering in Research Park, waiting for an egghead to stumble out after working on whatever it was he or she researched until the wee hours.



Along the sidewalk, Krysta led them between two buildings, and into a darker area near the loading dock. She thought there had been lights back here the last time she had passed by. The vamps must have broken them, intending to feed on their victim where none would see.



Perfect.



Her heart began to pound, not with fear as she prepared to spin around and fight, but with anticipation. Etienne was nearby. She knew it. She could feel it. And she wasn’t going to let him snatch away her prize this time. She was going to confront the vamps before he had the chance.



Drawing her shoto swords, she spun around at the same moment Etienne appeared behind the vamps.



Ooh. Six vampires. Good thing he had come.



Etienne’s brows drew down in a frown as he met her gaze. “Damn it! You’re early!”



She grinned. “Nope. You’re late.”



The vampires’ faces went blank with surprise. Their gazes zigzagged between the two of them.



“Oh shit,” one said, his face filling with fear as he stared at Etienne. “An Immortal Guardian.”



Gasps from his vampire cohorts.



A what?



Another vampire looked at Krysta. “She’s human. She must be his Second.”



“Bastien has a mortal Second,” another said.



Who had a what now?



Krysta was given no time to ask.



Their faces contorted with fury. “Bastien the Deceiver!”



“Death to Bastien!”



“Kick their fucking asses!”



The vampires drew weapons and attacked.



Krysta inched backward and swung her swords as multiple orange auras shot toward her.



The vampires must think they would have an easier time killing her than they would Etienne.



Smart vamps.



Sucked for her, though.



Even as she struck lethal blows with her blades, slicing the throat of the first vampire to reach her, pain streaked through her thigh as another vamp’s blade cut into her flesh.



Krysta gritted her teeth and swung at the orange aura leaping away from her.



Score! Tit for tat. She’d cut his femoral artery, the bastard!



Limping backward, she kept her swords in constant motion. Glowing orange auras swirled around her, so numerous that fear threatened to paralyze her.



She struck more blows, aiming at auras and hitting the flesh they preceded.



The vampires struck blows as well. Cuts stung her arms, back, legs. Just as she was silently celebrating a particularly good blow, one of the vamps circled around behind her and hit her in the head, landing a simple punch with his fist, backed by preternatural strength, that felt like a freaking anvil.



The world around her lit up with sparkly things that had nothing to do with auras. All strength left her limbs as agony pounded her head.



Krysta staggered. Her thoughts scattered.



Somewhere a lion roared.



The glowing orange auras surrounding her fell away as shining purple and white rolled through them like a bowling ball felling pins.



Krysta’s weapons clattered to the ground, her fingers unable to grasp anything but her aching head.



She sank to her knees.



“Krysta!”



Chapter 4



Etienne wasn’t usually one to panic. Even as a mortal, when fighting, he had always kept his cool.



But seeing Krysta felled by a vampire’s fist . . .



“Krysta!” he called again, after severing that fist and leaving the vampire to bleed out.



His swords swung like the blades of a propeller, cutting through the vampires as though they were no more than air.



Had it been more than a glancing blow, wouldn’t she be down on the ground and either unconscious or dying from a fractured skull? Sarah had nearly died when Bastien had fractured her skull. Her ears had even bled.



Etienne tried to see if Krysta bled from her ears, but couldn’t take his eyes off the damned vampires.



Finally, the last vamp succumbed to Etienne’s swords.



Racing to Krysta’s side, he knelt before her and dropped his weapons. “Are you okay?” He clasped her shoulder with one hand and gently raised her chin with the other.



Her lovely face was pinched with pain. “I’m okay,” she gritted. “My head just hurts like a bitch. I think I might have a concussion. My vision is all fuzzy.”



Her pupils were a little dilated, too.



“What about you?” she murmured. “Are you okay?”



Shock, pleasure, and all kinds of things he refused to examine too closely flowed through him. “I’m fine. Hardly a scratch on me.”



“Must be nice. Help me up, will you?”



“Of course.” He helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her when she swayed.



“The bastards all came after me,” she complained, leaning into him.



Did she realize the trust she was placing in him?



He cleared his throat, trying to ignore how good it felt to have her tucked up against his side. “Vampires are often cowards and seek the weaker target.”



“Gee, thanks.”



“I just meant—”



“I get it. I just don’t like it.”



“That I’m stronger than you are?”



“Yes. What’s an Immortal Guardian?”



Etienne swore silently. He had hoped she hadn’t caught that.



“A what?” he stalled, not knowing how to answer.



“You heard me. An Immortal Guardian.” Stepping away, she clung to his arm until she was steady, then released him and met his gaze. “The vampires called you an Immortal Guardian.”



His cursed mind went blank.



“They also called me a Second. What’s a Second?”



Still nothing. What had Roland told Sarah when faced with such questions?



“Who is Bastien the Deceiver?”



He swore aloud then. “Aren’t you supposed to have a concussion? How are you remembering all of this?”



“You’re stalling.”



Yes, he was.



Etienne paced away several steps. “I can’t tell you.”



“Can’t or won’t?”



“Can’t.”



“Why?”



“I can’t tell you secrets that are not solely my own to share,” he tried to explain.