“How did you get this number?”
“Ami. Now shut up and listen. According to the Seconds’ rumor mill, Reordon has called a meeting. It starts in less than an hour at David’s place. And I know damned well he scheduled it for then, believing you would be unable to attend. I think he’s going to condemn you for taking out the humans and, since Seth has thus far rejected every call for your execution, will push for your permanent removal from the Immortal Guardians’ ranks.”
Hmm. Would that be such a bad thing? Hadn’t Bastien decided just a few weeks earlier that something would have to change? That the whole Immortal Guardian thing wasn’t working out for him? Maybe it was time for him to move on and. . .
Well, he didn’t know what. For the first couple hundred years or so of his immortal existence, he had been driven to seek revenge for his sister’s murder. Once he had found his quarry, he had spent another two decades or so planning that revenge and raising his vampire army.
“Don’t let him do it, man,” Cliff said, his exceptional hearing allowing him to listen to the phone conversation.
“Don’t let him do what?” Bastien asked.
“Don’t let Reordon get you kicked out of the Immortal Guardians. You’re the only one of them who gives a damn about us—about vampires. Without you fighting for us . . . what hope do we have?”
Hell.
Bastien met Melanie’s gaze, saw the pleading in it.
“Don’t let Mr. Reordon’s prejudice keep you from taking your rightful place among the Immortal Guardians,” she pleaded. “The immortals need you more than they think they do. Cliff and Joe need you, too.”
Again: Hell.
Bastien sighed. “All right,” he told Tanner. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’m on my way.”
“Good.”
“It’ll take me a while because I’m on foot, but—”
“I’ll drive you,” Melanie interrupted.
“No,” Bastien countered. “No, thank you,” he amended. She had already come to his defense once by keeping Reordon from chaining him up. The last thing he wanted was for her to be associated with him even more. Too much unpleasantness would be directed her way.
“Yes,” she retorted, raising her chin stubbornly. “I’m your doctor. You just regained consciousness and need to be monitored for the next few hours as the drug continues to wear off. You aren’t going anywhere without me.”
“He may not be going anywhere anyway,” Cliff mentioned. “How is he going to leave the building? I doubt Reordon gave his men orders to let Bastien go.”
Melanie frowned.
“Don’t worry about that,” Tanner said. “I’ll take care of it.”
Before Bastien could ask him what he meant, he hung up.
Melanie bit her lip as Bastien lowered his phone and ended the call. “If you’re thinking of fighting your way out, you may want to reconsider.”
Fighting his way in the night they had met had resulted in him being wrapped like a mummy in chains. She didn’t want to see that happen again.
Bastien frowned. “Tanner said I wouldn’t have to, but I don’t see how—”
A clunk sounded as the door unlocked, then opened, pushed by Todd.
The soldier did not look happy. “I just got a call from David.”
The elder immortal was warm and friendly, treating all immortals and members of the network like family, yet—at the same time—was nearly as powerful and formidable as Seth.
Todd looked at Bastien. “You’re free to leave whenever you want to.”
Bastien met Melanie’s gaze for a moment, then eyed Todd suspiciously as if he were trying to discern if this were some sort of trick. “I am?”
Todd nodded and opened the door wide. “Mr. Reordon won’t be happy about it, but . . .”
No one gainsays David, went unspoken.
Bastien shrugged. “So be it.”
Melanie headed for the door. “I’ll just get my keys, then we can go.”
Todd scowled as she approached. “You’re not going with him, are you?”
“She has to,” Cliff blurted before Melanie or Bastien could say anything. “Bastien’s still groggy from the drug.”
Was he trying to convince Todd or Bastien, who still looked as though he wanted to protest? Melanie knew Cliff worried about his former leader.
“I’ll have one of my men take him wherever he wants to go,” Todd said. As Melanie passed him in the doorway, he added in a lower voice, “You shouldn’t be alone with him, Dr. Lipton. It isn’t safe.”
Melanie glanced back in time to see Bastien’s eyes flare bright amber with fury. When he opened his mouth to speak, she hurried to prevent it. “He needs to be monitored. We’re still learning about this drug and its effects on immortals. I need to continue measuring his recovery time and keep an eye out for lingering side effects.”
Though both Bastien and Todd frowned, neither—she was pleased to see—could find fault with her explanation.
Cliff sent her a big grin.
What are you doing, Lanie? she asked herself as she crossed the hall to her office.
What I have to.
No, you aren’t. David is a healer. He can tell you anything you need to know about Bastien’s recovery. So could Roland, though getting that one to cooperate would pretty much be impossible.
It wasn’t really about Bastien’s recovery anyway. Yes, she would like to continue monitoring him and see how long the weakness lingered. Any little thing she could learn about this drug without having to inflict it upon test subjects—namely the vampires—would help her in her attempts to combat it. But, as that little voice in her head had pointed out, David or Roland could observe Bastien for her.
Removing her lab coat, she donned the turtleneck she had discarded earlier and topped it with a sweater.
No, it wasn’t about his recovery. It was . . .
She liked Bastien, damn it. She had liked him long before she had ever met him just from the things the vampires had told her about him. He may play the black sheep and be hated by his immortal brethren for past misdeeds, but he seemed to be an honorable man. A compassionate man. He wasn’t the monster Chris Reordon and some of the others thought him. He just wanted to help people. Help the vampires. End the suffering of men he had considered his brothers for two centuries.
Was that so wrong?
Locating her purse, she picked it up and drew her keys from an outer pocket.
Someone needed to stand up for him. Defend him. And, though it may sound ludicrous that a man of his strength and power would need her, she intended to be that someone. She had more insight into his character than anyone.
Except, perhaps, for Ami. Bastien seemed to have a real soft spot for Amiriska.
Melanie frowned as she wondered just how soft a soft spot that was.
She headed back across the hallway.
Todd crossed his arms over his chest as Melanie approached him. “Maybe Dr. Whetsman should accompany him instead.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Dr. Whetsman? Really?”
Todd grimaced and stepped aside. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Melanie entered the room and found Bastien standing beside the gurney. When he wavered, Cliff reached out and took his shoulder to steady him.
“Ready?” she asked.
Bastien nodded once, then gripped Cliff ’s arm to keep his balance.
Todd strode over to the desk, grabbed a pen and a Post-it pad, and leaned down to scribble something on it. Peeling off the top note, he turned and handed it to Melanie.
Three telephone numbers had been scrawled across it.
“The first number is Seth’s. The second is Richart’s. The third is mine. If anything should happen”—his gaze slid to Bastien and back—“call them in that order. Seth can teleport directly to you. If you can’t reach him, Richart can probably teleport to your general area and find you. If he can’t be reached, call me and I’ll track your GPS signal and bring a small army of men.”
Bastien raised one eyebrow. “A small army of men couldn’t stop me last night.”
Melanie sighed. Why did Bastien have to antagonize everyone every chance he could get?
Todd huffed a laugh. “Did you or did you not have to be carried in here?”
Melanie hoped that would end the exchange.
It didn’t. True to form, Bastien spoke in a taunting voice. “Not before I killed every human that was gunning for me.”
Todd’s jaw tightened.
“Enough,” Melanie said, throwing up her hands. “If you two want to continue duking it out verbally later, then feel free. Right now we need to get going. Bastien has someplace he needs to be.” She turned a stern look on Bastien. “Don’t you?”
Some of the tension in his face eased as the corners of his lips twitched. “I suppose I do.” He glanced at Cliff, then down at the manacle around Cliff ’s ankle. “What about Cliff?”
“Todd, would you please release Cliff and escort him back to his apartment?”
The soldier nodded, his countenance relaxing. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” Melanie looked to Bastien. “Shall we?”
She noticed he didn’t nod this time and wondered how bad the lingering headache and dizziness were.
Bastien clasped Cliff ’s arm and pulled him into a man hug. “Thanks for watching over me.”
“Any time, man. You’ve been doing the same for me for years.”
Bastien strolled over to the door, bumping Todd hard with his shoulder as he passed.
Melanie shook her head and followed him out of the room. She was beginning to suspect Bastien would have had a hard time fitting in with the immortals even if he hadn’t killed one of their own and injured dozens of their human assistants at the network.
In the hallway, the guards’ close scrutiny unnerved her.
Bastien seemed utterly unaffected by it. He also exhibited none of the weakness he had demonstrated in the holding room. Not until they were alone inside the elevator with the doors closed, traveling upward.