“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.
Okay. Did you hear that?
He smiled. Yes.
Can you hear everything else I’m thinking?
He was silent a moment. No. Your barriers are still in place, so I can only hear what you wish me to hear.
Good.
He pursed his lips. Any naughty thoughts about me floating around up there?
Many many naughty thoughts.
He stepped closer to her. In case anyone is looking . . . Resting his hands on her waist, he drew her up against him and proceeded to kiss the stuffing out of her.
Fire licked through Krysta’s veins as she locked her arms around his neck. Her heart pounded a rapid beat as he slid his hands up her rib cage, his thumbs nearing her tingling breasts.
He murmured something in French in her mind.
Say it in English, she reminded him.
How you tempt me.
Good, because he tempted the hell out of her.
When he dragged his lips away, she was happy to discover his breathing was as ragged as hers.
“Good night,” he said, voice low and hoarse.
“Good night.”
Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips.
Krysta didn’t have to fake a stumble as she turned to walk away from him. Her knees were weak. All this time she had thought that was just corny crap found in chick flicks. She hadn’t realized passion really could weaken your knees.
She shook her head at herself. She was twenty-seven years old and no virgin. She should already know that, shouldn’t she?
As she walked up the sidewalk, exploring the quadrangles that hosted her favorite frat houses, she caught periodic glimpses of Etienne’s pretty white and purple aura leaping from roof to roof.
She wished she could do that. That would be so much fun.
Testing. Testing. Can you hear me? she asked.
He laughed. Yes.
When you said we’d be hunting together, I didn’t think you meant as we have been.
I may not like it, but you do make good bait.
She was getting used to hearing his warm, deep voice in her head. Can I drunk dial you? Her fictional drunken phone calls worked well to distract any vamps tailing her.
Anytime we aren’t hunting.
She smiled. I’m not a big drinker.
Nor am I. Alcohol has no effect on us, so there isn’t much point.
Oh. Well, I was just going to fake it anyway.
As you have before. I admit I found your rants both credible and entertaining.
That gave her a warm feeling.
But, he went on, if you were to call me, the vampires would hear your conversation both down there and through my phone up here, alerting them to my presence.
Oh. Your ears really are sensitive, aren’t they?
Yes, as are vampires’.
Bummer. I was going to talk dirty to you.
Damn. I hate to miss that.
Maybe later. I could talk dirty to you mentally, she suggested boldly.
Very tempting, but it looks like you have some nibblers.
Vampires are taking the bait? she asked, staggering a bit to one side. Already?
Definitely. Two approach from your five and three more from your eight.
Ooh. I like this. No more guessing how many I’ll face or trying to sneak a peek at them.
How did you live through six years of this?
I’m good at what I do.
Just don’t get cocky.I won’t. Any sign of mercenaries?
Silence. No. Nothing with my eyes. Nothing with the infrared. What about you? Any human auras lurking in odd places?
She paused at a crosswalk and looked around as though trying to remember where she wanted to go. The vampires scattered like cockroaches, their auras leading the way.
No. No humans.
Good.
Half singing under her breath, she led the vamps away from the frat houses, past eating establishments that would have been packed with students only a couple of hours earlier, and toward the science buildings that would give them a little more privacy and be less likely to draw the attention of anyone out and about this late.
Adrenaline surged through her veins as she ducked into a darkened area she suspected was used for deliveries and paused. It was the closest thing to an alley nearby and would have to do. Reaching beneath her coat, she drew her borrowed shoto swords and spun around. “Hi, guys.”
Those vamps who had already bent forward in a menacing crouch, intending to taunt and frighten her, frowned. Straightening, they looked at each other, then her.
She grinned. “I believe this is where I’m supposed to say: It’s on.”
Etienne appeared behind the vamps at the mouth of the pseudo-alley, swords drawn. “Actually,” he countered. “it’s not on. Did you forget we need to talk to them first?”
The vamps spun to face Etienne, drawing weapons they had thought they wouldn’t need to slaughter a drunk sorority girl.
Krysta swore. “Yes, I did. I see now why that grumpy older guy didn’t want to do this. It kinda ruins the flow of it all.”
“What the hell?” one vamp asked, looking back and forth between them.
“An Immortal Guardian,” one sneered, his eyes flashing a bright blue as they slid to Krysta. “And his mortal Second.”
The others’ eyes flared to life in a variety of colors. Some actually hissed liked movie vampires did.
Etienne raced right through their midst and planted himself in front of Krysta.
Damn it! She shifted to the side, far enough away not to hamper his swing.
“Kill them!” the first vampire snarled.
Etienne raised one of his swords and pointed it at them almost like a teacher singling out a student for behaving badly. “Gentlemen, I suggest you slow your roll.” Over his shoulder, he murmured, “That’s a saying, isn’t it?”
It was kind of hard to be miffed at him when he made her want to laugh. “Yes.” Was he trying to use modern slang to make himself seem younger to her after their little conversation?
He focused once more on the vampires. “We have some information that might interest you.”
They responded with a lot of posturing and spewing of epithets.
“Human mercenaries are hunting you,” Etienne went on doggedly. “They want to capture you, torture you to learn about the virus and your abilities, then kill you.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?” one blurted.
“It’s bullshit is what it is,” another answered.
So clever, that one.
“Yeah, since when do immortals want to help vampires?”
Etienne sighed. “Since any information the mercenaries gain from torturing you can be used against us. These humans are enemies of both of us. If we work together . . .”
Weapons still at the ready, Krysta glanced at him when he trailed off.
The vampires shifted and exchanged confused looks. At least those who weren’t twitching with the need to attack.
“You know what?” Etienne said finally. “This is pointless. Every vampire here is so insane they’re making my head hurt.” He swung his swords with a flourish and met her gaze. “Now it’s on.”
He blurred, shooting forward with incredible speed. Blood sprayed as carotid arteries sprang leaks in the wake of his blades. Two vampires swung their weapons wildly, then sank to their knees, hands grasping their throats and trying futilely to staunch the flow of their life’s blood. A third engaged Etienne, the battling duo blurring and zipping around like the Tazmanian Devil.
The two remaining vamps faced Krysta with evil smiles. Their orange auras streaked toward her a second before their forms leapt forward. She swung her blades, scoring hits that sparked snarls of fury. And retaliation.
She began a slow trek backward as she swung where their auras directed her. Her thigh stung as one of their blades cut through her clothing and hit flesh. Then her side. Her hip. Her swings and thrusts neither ceased nor slowed.
Something large flew over her head and hit the brick wall to her right hard enough to shower them with dust. The vampire Etienne fought?
One of her opponents slowed and stumbled, dropping the bowie he had swung wildly. Blood poured from his wrist and neck.
About freaking time! It usually didn’t take her that long to find the arteries. She was off her game tonight.
The other vampire jerked backward, then hit the wall beside the other one.
Etienne was on him so fast she couldn’t see exactly what he did. But when he stilled and stepped back, the blades of his swords dripped crimson liquid and the vamp began to shrivel up.
Breathing hard, Krysta lowered her weapons.
Etienne turned to her, eyes glowing a vibrant amber. Ruby droplets speckled his face and glistened on his clothing. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and smiled. “We rock!”
Some of the tension left his shoulders. Shaking his head, he wiped his blades on his coat and sheathed them. “Where are you hurt?”
“What makes you think I’m hurt?” She didn’t want to admit it. If he knew she was injured every time she hunted, he might refuse to hunt with her again in an attempt to protect her and . . .
Well, she didn’t know what would happen next. She’d like to think she would just go back to hunting on her own, but doubted Etienne or the elder immortals would let her.
That galled a little.
Or a lot.
“I can smell your blood,” he said, closing the distance between them. “And you’re favoring one side.”
Thwarted again by his acute senses and attention to detail.
Since she couldn’t refute it, she settled for making nonsensical grumbly noises as she wiped her own blades clean and sheathed them.
“Krysta.”