“You okay?” her brother asked.
“Just tired,” she lied.
“Are you sure?” He took his eyes off the road momentarily to study her. “Are you worried about the vampire who helped you?”
She sent him a sharp glance. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “It’s just weird that he helped you. You’ve never encountered a vampire who didn’t try to kill or turn you. I’ve been worried that he might . . . I don’t know . . . come back and finish what he didn’t have a chance to start.”
“If he had wanted to kill me, he had ample opportunity to do so.”
A scowl creased his brow. “How can you be so sure? Maybe he’s screwing with you? He didn’t get into your head, did he?”
Relief and anger overwhelmed her as she realized her brother might have just hit the proverbial nail on the head.
A slew of silent epithets drowned out whatever Sean said next.
That’s it! It has to be! Étienne has literally gotten into my head. I mean, if he can freaking teleport, a little mind control really isn’t that hard to believe.
Other vampires could do it. The reason no one knew vampires existed was because victims of vampire attacks who lived could never recall having been bitten or give any description of their attacker. They even laughed outright at the notion that Krysta had saved them from a vampire who had been eagerly draining their blood.
Not one vampire victim with whom she had spoken had retained any memory of being attacked. If that wasn’t mind control, what was?
Anger simmered within her. “I am so going to kick his ass,” she growled.
Sean’s eyebrows rose. “The purple and white vamp?”
She had told him about Étienne’s aura. “Yes.”
“What makes you think you’ll see him again?”
“Oh, I’ll see him again. He left me alive for a reason. And I’m going to kick his ass until he tells me what it is.”
His frown returned. “Just don’t go looking for him, Krys. Seriously. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I won’t,” she was able to say with complete honesty.
If he stayed true to his recent pattern, Étienne would come looking for her. And when he did . . .
She smiled grimly.
He was going to regret messing with her head.
Chapter 3
Étienne glanced at his twin as they arrived in David’s large living room. “Are you the smart-ass who changed my ringtone?”
“Someone changed your ringtone?” Richart asked. “To what?”
“Never mind.”
Darnell approached, a tiny kitten in each hand. “Okay, which one do you want?”
Étienne reached for the little gray and white one. “We’re really doing this?”
“Yes.”
A faint, high-pitched scream came from Étienne’s pocket, accompanied by a drumbeat. “There are squirrels in my pants!” a girl cried as Phineas and Ferb’s “Squirrels in My Pants” song began blaring from his phone.
Every immortal in the room turned to look at him.
Étienne scowled at his brother.
Laughing, Richart closed his cell phone and put it away. “I didn’t change it. I just wanted to know what it was.”
“Asshole.” He took the ridiculously small bottle of milk Darnell handed him. “As I was saying, we’re really doing this?”
“Every two hours.”
He groaned. He could still be chatting up Krysta if he didn’t have to play feline nursemaid.
“How much has David done for you over the centuries?” Darnell retorted, his shaved, brown head gleaming in the overhead light.
“A hell of a lot,” Étienne answered without hesitation. David was like Seth. He gave everything he had to the Immortal Guardians and those who aided them.#p#分页标题#e#
“And what has he asked in return?” Darnell continued.
“Not a damned thing.”
“Exactly. So feed the kitten.”
Étienne cuddled the mewling little bundle of fur to his chest. “Done.”
Richart took the orange and white kitten and did the same.
“Every two hours, guys,” Darnell reminded them again as they crossed the room and sank down beside Lisette on one of the sofas.
Roland and Sarah fed two kittens on another sofa.
Roland was quite possibly the most aggravating, antisocial immortal on the planet. Seeing him cuddle and nurture a black and white kitten that could fit in the palm of his hand was nothing short of bizarre.
Grunts and thumps floated up from downstairs, where Seconds sparred in the training room.
Ami entered, carrying Slim. That scrawny little feline didn’t look fully grown either, though it had long since reached adulthood. It also bore several bare patches, scars, and cuts from its most recent fights with whatever woodland creature it had felt ventured too close to Slim’s new territory: David’s property.