Night Reigns

Seth remained in constant motion, his arms a blur, his legs and torso mostly visible though he constantly rotated to keep each man in sight. Both of Edward’s swords Seth repelled with a single katana. Ethan’s, too. The younger warriors exhibited an amusing combination of awe and frustration. Defeating solo vampires night after night tended to inspire an inflated sense of strength and power. Sparring with Seth utterly obliterated that and tended to leave one feeling like a five-year-old swinging wildly and being held at bay by his ten-year-old brother’s hand on his forehead.

“Halt,” Seth called suddenly.

In unison, Ethan and Edward stopped mid-swing, lowered their weapons, and stepped back.

All three men, standing on the far side of the large room near the wall of mirrors, sheathed their weapons and turned to face Marcus. Since they would begin the night’s hunt once the meeting adjourned, they were garbed as the other immortals were: black pants, black shirts, black boots. Blood was too noticeable on and a bitch to get out of any other color.

When Marcus started toward them, Edward offered him a genial smile. “Hi, Marcus. Sorry you had to see that. A bit embarrassing, getting trounced so easily.”

Ethan nodded. “Hello, Marcus. It’s been a long time.” He paused. “Glad to see you looking so well.” More like Glad to see you still living and breathing, you crazy bastard. Ethan had never understood Marcus’s particular angst.

Seth said nothing, merely watched Marcus’s approach with sharp eyes.

Did he sense the chaos that thrummed through Marcus, feel the fury that burned beneath the surface of his skin like fire, scalding, then blistering him until he wanted to scream with it?

Marcus caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror behind the men, saw the fading bruises and cuts from the scuffle that had taken place upstairs. Though only partly responsible for his current emotional state, it only enraged him more.

His brown eyes sparked to amber fire. His pace increased, boots pounding the mat.

Seth’s eyes narrowed.

Before anyone could draw their next breath, Marcus zipped forward in a blur and swung. Seth’s head snapped back as Marcus’s fist slammed into his jaw. Bone shattered as the jaw disconnected. Blood sprayed. Teeth loosened.

A younger immortal would have been thrown across the room by the force Marcus had put behind that strike. Seth staggered back a single step, turned to the side, and bent forward.

Edward gaped.

Ethan muttered, “Holy shit.”

Seth cupped the long fingers of one hand around his cheek and chin. Blood spilled from his lips and spattered the padded floor. He grunted. A crunching sound, like tumbling pebbles, filled the air as bone slid back into place and knitted back together so quickly Seth’s jaw didn’t even have time to swell.

Seth straightened.

Marcus stiffened, rotated slightly to the side and clenched his fists, ready to defend himself.

The eyes Seth turned on him contained a faint golden glow, a gentle reminder of what had happened the last time Marcus had triggered the ancient immortal’s wrath.

“If that was for Ewen,” Seth growled, “your ass is—”

“It wasn’t. It was for Ami.”

The leader of the Immortal Guardians paused. Considered. The glow faded. “All right. I’ll give you that one.” He looked at the dumbfounded youngsters. “Leave us.”

Edward and Ethan nodded, bowed to the leader, then strode past Marcus, their belief that he had truly lost his mind written all over their pale faces.

When they had gone, Seth headed for the door. “Come with me.”

Bastien roused while the immortals—with a great deal of duct tape, hammering, and conversation—tried to put the room back in order. Ami would have gone to him and helped him clean his wounds up a bit so they would heal faster, but when she took a step toward him, he caught her eye and shook his head.

Ami hesitated. Was he too proud to accept assistance? Or did he seek to protect her?

Every immortal in the room suddenly froze. The only speech left flowing—that produced by the humans—soon trailed away to silence as the Seconds realized something was amiss.

At first, Ami thought the immortals had noticed Bastien’s revival and were pondering a rematch.

Then Stanislav looked at Yuri. “Did … did Marcus just … ?”

Yuri nodded, face somber.

All immortal heads abruptly turned, their eyes focusing on Ami.

Ami glanced over her shoulder at the door, thinking someone must have entered silently behind her, but saw no one. She turned back around.

The Seconds followed the gazes of the immortals they served, staring at Ami and rattling her nerves.

Darnell looked around with a frown and moved to stand beside her. “What’s going on?”

Two immortals entered from the hallway. The youngsters with whom Seth had been sparring?

They halted and looked at Ami, too. “Is she Ami?” one asked.

Étienne gave a brief nod.

The fear Ami had fought so hard to dispel arose with a vengeance.

What was happening? Why were they looking at her like that? What did they know that she didn’t?

Darnell’s arm came around her shoulders, pulling her protectively against his side.

Ami leaned into him and wished with all her being that Marcus would return.

Marcus followed Seth into the Quiet Room, taking little notice of the bedroom’s furnishings.

Seth closed the door and, pulling a handkerchief from his pants pocket, wiped the blood from his lips and chin.

Impatient, Marcus spoke. “Is she a gifted one?”

Seth tucked the soiled handkerchief away and met Marcus’s gaze. “No,” he answered solemnly.

Pain careened through him. Marcus closed his eyes. She had told him as much, but … “She has premonitions. Or something of the sort.”

“She isn’t a gifted one, Marcus. I’m sorry.”

A lump lodged itself in his throat. “You son of a bitch.” A whisper full of accusation and heartache. “How could you do this to me?”

“I didn’t know you would fall in love with her.”

“Didn’t you?” Marcus asked bitterly. “Don’t you know everything? Isn’t it all fated? Didn’t you know Bethany would fall in love with Robert?”

Seth sighed. “That was an exception, not the rule. If I were the omniscient cupid you make me sound like, I would have found each and every one of you spouses to dispel your loneliness long ago.”

“You’re certain? I’ve never encountered anyone with extrasensory abilities who wasn’t either a gifted one or an immortal.”

“I’m certain.”

Marcus rubbed his burning eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. “History is destined to repeat itself. Isn’t that what you and David are so fond of reminding us of?”

“This isn’t history repeating itself.”

“Isn’t it?” Marcus asked with a despairing laugh. “What will I have? Fifty, sixty years with her before I lose her like I did Bethany? If a vampire doesn’t kill her first. Then … what … spend the next millennium mourning her?”

“This isn’t history repeating itself,” Seth said again. “You never felt for Bethany what you feel for Ami.”

Marcus knew it was true, but couldn’t hold back a truculent, “What makes you so sure?”

“What would you sacrifice for Ami?”

Because the question was asked with such earnestness, Marcus gave it due deliberation. His answer, after a full minute, was the same as the first one that had rung through his head. “Anything.”

“What would you risk to make her yours?”

“Everything.”

“Yet you risked little for Bethany and sacrificed nothing beyond your own happiness. You never disclosed your feelings. You never let her in. You could have forfeited your friendship with Robert. You could have—”

“I would never have dishonored him so!” Marcus snapped. “He was family to me. I—”

“If you had thought you could have with Bethany what you know you can have with Ami, you would have risked it all.”

“She thought I was a boy! A little brother!”

“You could have watched Bethany and Robert live out their lives together, waited eight hundred years for her to be born and reach adulthood, then seduced her and kept her from going back in time. Neither she nor Robert would have ever been the wiser. You would have had both your friendship with Robert in the past and your happily ever after with Bethany in the present.” Seth crossed to a wingback chair and folded his long frame into it. “She was even a gifted one. You could have transformed her and spent eternity with her.”

“I wouldn’t have made her as happy as Robert did,” Marcus recited numbly.

“What you didn’t realize until now is that she would not have made you as happy as Ami can.”

Backing up, Marcus sank down on the edge of the bed.

Seth settled one booted foot across the opposite knee. “Consider your feelings for Ami. You’ve known her for … two weeks. Imagine what you will feel for her in a year.”

He couldn’t. Not without panicking at the thought of how little time they would have together in the greater scheme of things. “I don’t want to lose her.”

“One thing you might keep in mind, Marcus, is that you are not indestructible yourself. You can be killed. And have come close a time or two during the last year and a half. Stop obsessing over a future you could be deprived of at any moment by a simple decapitation.”

Marcus snorted. “Decapitation my ass. Thirty-four vampires couldn’t take me out.”

Seth raised an eyebrow. “You think no one else can?”

“Hell no. Not with Ami fighting at my back.”

Seth threw back his head and laughed. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“She is. I’ve lived over eight centuries, and nothing or no one has surprised me more.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">