Phantom Shadows

Bastien and Richart must not want to go in either, because neither immortal moved. They did, however, share a weighty look in the rearview mirror.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s too quiet,” Bastien said.

Richart nodded.

All cocky kid-itude drained from Sheldon, who drew two 10mms. “Out here or in there?”

Richart nodded at the house. “In there.”

A buzz sounded as someone’s cell phone vibrated. Bastien leaned forward and drew his phone from a back pocket. He looked at the screen. His brows drew down.

Altering the angle of the phone, he showed Melanie the text from Darnell:

Come in, sit down, and keep your mouth shut.

You do NOT want to piss David off tonight.

Had something happened to upset David? Or was he beginning to tire of championing Bastien when Bastien did so little to ingratiate himself with the other immortals?

Melanie hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Bastien held up the phone for Richart and Sheldon to see. Richart’s face showed no expression when he met Bastien’s gaze. Sheldon looked nervous as hell.

Melanie didn’t know what to expect when the four of them exited the car and entered the home.

Inside was a replay of the last meeting she had attended with all of the same players at the table, except . . . no one spoke.

At the head of the table, David reclined in his chair, his weight leaning on the right elbow he’d propped on the table. His dark, handsome face was set in stone. Unlike the others, whose appearances showed the effects of a night of hunting, his black, long-sleeved shirt was clean and dry, his beautiful dreadlocks neatly confined in a thick ponytail that fell beyond the seat of his chair.

Darnell sat to one side of him, his eyes and face reinforcing his command to sit down and shut up.

Everyone remained utterly silent as Melanie, Bastien, Richart (who had opted to leave his dinner in the car), and Sheldon approached the table and took the four empty seats beside Étienne.

Seth’s chair remained unoccupied.

Darnell took out his cell phone, moved his thumb across it, then put it back in his pocket.

“Mack the Knife” began to play.

Across from Melanie, Sarah drew out her cell phone and held it to her ear. “Hello? . . . Okay. Thanks.”

Seth appeared before Sarah finished putting her phone away.

Melanie thought it sweet of him to warn her each time he teleported.

Seth nodded to all present, started for his seat, then paused. His gaze traveled around the table, then zeroed in on David. “What happened?”

David hesitated. “I took out one of the groups blocking UN aid workers from bringing food to the Somalians.”

David had been in Somalia earlier? There must be another immortal who could teleport somewhere on the planet.

“Good job. Anyone help you?”

“No.”

Seth studied him closely. “And?”

David scowled. “I lost my damn arm.”

Melanie’s mouth fell open as her gaze went to his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Plural.

Frowning, Seth crossed to David’s side. “The left?”

“Yes.”

“You reattached it?”

David’s jaw worked. “Mostly. A lot of damage was done by the explosion that took it.”

It may seem morbid, but Melanie wished heartily that she could have witnessed that. Not the explosion, of course. But the reattachment. She would love to know how such could be accomplished with just his gift and his hand.

David’s warm brown eyes met hers. “Maybe next time.”

Horrified that he had read her thoughts, she felt heat rush into her face.

No need to fret, his voice spoke kindly in her mind. I know your reasons. And there are many in this room who aren’t physicians, but have the same curiosity.

Thank you. I’m so sorry you were injured.

He nodded.

Seth wrapped his long fingers around David’s left wrist and lifted the arm to shoulder’s height.

A muscle jumped in David’s cheek as he grunted and stiffened. His eyes flashed amber.

Seth touched David’s shoulder with his other hand, which—beneath Melanie’s fascinated gaze—began to glow. Down the arm Seth trailed his hand, his touch gentle.

David’s breath soughed out in a relieved sigh. The tightness left his face. The tension that had wrapped those present in a cocoon of discomfort eased.

The pain David had inadvertently been broadcasting had felt to Melanie and the others like displeasure.

The glow faded from Seth’s hand as he removed it. “Better?”

David rotated his arm experimentally. “Much. Thank you.”

Seth patted his shoulder, then strode down the table to take his seat.

Roland cleared his throat. “I could have helped you with that.”

David shook his head. “You’re still healing from the wounds you incurred while hunting vampires, then healing Dr. Lipton.”

Sarah’s head snapped around. “You said you were fine.”

Roland shifted. “I am fine . . . for the most part.”

“You can’t do that, Roland.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. “Am I going to have to start strip searching you to check for wounds every night, or will you tell me the truth from now on?”

“I would prefer the first option.”

Chuckles rounded the table.

Sarah punched Roland hard in the shoulder.

“Ow! That hurts a lot more now that you’re immortal, you know.”

Her lips twitched. “I know.”

Seth took his seat. “All right. Let’s get this over with. Darnell told me you’re pissed about something, Chris. I assume whatever it is involves Bastien. But before we get to that . . .” He glanced at each of the immortals present. “Any vampire recruitments yet?”

Heads shook.

Bastien leaned forward. “I may have succeeded in recruiting one. I was supposed to have met him tonight, but forgot when Dr. Lipton was injured. I’ll see if he shows tomorrow.”

“Good work. Make sure Richart accompanies you in case the vamps plan another ambush.” He held up a hand when Chris opened his mouth. “Dr. Lipton, I’m sorry you were injured tonight. I trust your presence here means you are well now?”

“Yes. Roland healed me.” She met Roland’s gaze. “Thank you.”

He gave a short nod. “You’re welcome.”

Sarah smiled and leaned into him.

“You weren’t bitten, were you?” Seth went on.

“No. One of Emrys’s men shot me.”

“Three times,” Bastien added, voice tight. “And there were two shooters. They waited until they saw us destroy the vamps we were hunting, then zeroed in on Melanie in the aftermath.”

Yuri and Stanislov swore.

Richart leaned forward. “There were thirty-six total concealed on the campus. On the rooftops. In alcoves. Behind bushes. We were there for some time before the vamps arrived, and the soldiers did nothing to give away their presence.”

Yuri grunted. “They were armed with the drug?”

“Yes.”

“How many were you able to capture?”

Richart glanced at Bastien. “None.”

Here it comes, Melanie thought.

Chris leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Bastien killed them all.”

“Where were you?” Yuri asked Richart. “I thought the two of you hunted together. Did you aid him?”

Richart shook his head. “Dr. Lipton’s wounds were fatal. I teleported her here to see if David was present, then to the network so the doctors could work on her until I could locate Roland.”

“Roland,” Seth said, “Take Richart to your home first thing tomorrow night. I won’t have someone dying because he doesn’t know where you live.”

Roland gave an abrupt nod.

Stanlislov eyed Bastien. “So while Richart took Dr. Lipton to safety, you killed all of the soldiers?”

“All of them,” Bastien confirmed. “When they shot Dr. Lipton, they weren’t shooting to wound. They were shooting to kill. Any of them who saw us fight the vampires knew she was neither immortal nor vampire, but they shot to kill anyway. The bastards deserved to die.”

Looks were exchanged all around.

Étienne cleared his throat. “I have no problem with that.”

“Nor I,” Lisette added.

“Nor I,” Richart said.

“Seriously?” Chris demanded. “We needed the intel those men could have provided. Marcus, you more than anyone ought to understand how important it is that we find and destroy Emrys. Any one of those men could have helped us accomplish that.”

Marcus’s brow furrowed. “I understand your anger, Bastien. But there are others you should have taken into consideration. Emrys will do anything to get his hands on Ami. And tonight we had a real opportunity to obtain the information we need to locate him and end this once and for all.”

Bastien swore. “You’re right. I fucked up. I’m sorry, Ami.”

“It’s okay, Sebastien.”

“No, it isn’t,” Marcus countered.

“He’s right,” Bastien agreed. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You never think,” Chris accused.

When no one came to Bastien’s defense, Melanie said, “He was thinking when he devised the plan to enlist vampires’ aid in defeating Emrys. He was thinking when he came damned close to recruiting a vampire just hours later.”

Bastien squeezed her arm under the table. A warning not to speak up for him? Well, screw that.

Chris raised his eyebrows. “We don’t even know if that vampire is trustworthy. He could arrange an ambush. Or run scared. Or offer to help and prove no aid at all because he’s too deranged. Those soldiers, on the other hand, we know could have helped us. They have to report to some commanding officer. Any one of the telepaths here could have withdrawn that information from their minds and we would have known the location of Emrys’s outfit and possibly Emrys himself.” 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">