Darkness Rises(23)

“I don’t understand.” Damn it. Why hadn’t she studied French in high school?
“Krysta?” Sean whispered.
“Over here!” she hissed as loudly as she dared, terrified that more men might be lurking nearby.
Nearly silent footsteps approached. “Oh shit,” her brother swore. “What the hell?”
“Come help me,” she ordered. Tucking Étienne’s phone in his coat pocket, she scooted around to cup his broad shoulders.
“Those don’t look like vampires,” Sean said as he joined her, his eyes on the fallen soldiers.
“They aren’t. They’re humans, and they tried to kill us.”
“Us?” He looked down at Étienne. “Is that . . . ?”
“Yes. Grab his feet.”
“No way. He’s a vampire.”
“And he saved my ass. Again. Come on. Grab his legs. We need to get the hell out of here before more of those guys come along.”
Étienne’s head lolled as they hefted his heavy form and began carting him to the car parked behind the building.
“Is he dead?” Sean huffed.
Étienne wasn’t disintegrating, so . . . “No. They drugged him with something.”
“And shot him all to shit?”
“Yes.”
“Who the hell are they?”
“I don’t know. But he does. As soon as he saw the tranquilizer dart . . .” She shook her head. “He knew what was coming.” Crap, he was heavy. “I didn’t hear anything or see anything. All of a sudden he just shoved me behind the building. Then they opened fire and he fought them.”
“Why didn’t he just run? They’re human. They’d never catch him. And they can’t shoot what they can’t follow.”
She met his gaze and said nothing.
“What? You’re saying—”
“He fought them to buy me time to get away. They would have killed me, Sean. They would’ve shot me, too. They tried to shoot me.”
He looked as confused as she felt.
Together they managed to cram Étienne’s long, muscled body into the backseat.
Sean slammed the door. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Wait.” Running back to the soldiers, she paused and swallowed hard. Creeping forward, she leaned down, grasped the bloodied handle of one of her daggers, and yanked it out of the dead soldier’s throat. The other’s lifeless eyes seemed full of accusation as she pulled her dagger out of his chest.
When she turned around, she found Sean staring at her somberly.
“Krysta, did you . . . ?”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. Limping forward, she circled the car. “Just get us out of here.”
The silence that filled the car as they drove away hurt more than her throbbing head did.
Tonight she had done something she never would’ve thought she could do. Something she didn’t know how she could justify.
Tonight she had killed humans to protect a vampire.
 

 

“He’s too long for the futon. Put him on my bed.” Krysta raced for the bathroom while Sean carried Étienne into her bedroom. Grabbing the vinyl shower curtain, she yanked it down and hurried after him.
“Wait.” She jerked the top covers back, spread the curtain over the bed to protect the mattress from bloodstains, covered it with a sheet, then stood back. “Okay.”
Sean dumped Étienne on the bed.
Étienne didn’t move.
“Are you sure he’s still alive?” Sean asked.
Biting her lip, Krysta leaned down and pressed two fingers to Étienne’s blood-slick throat. A long moment passed in which her heart slammed against her ribs and Étienne’s didn’t appear to do anything at all. “I don’t feel anything.” Throat thickening, she feared she might burst into tears.
Had he died protecting her?
Sean said nothing. Face impassive, he moved to the opposite side of the bed, bent over, and felt for a pulse himself.
Minutes passed. Krysta didn’t know how many. But with each, she felt shakier inside and more ready to scream with panic and regret and everything else building inside her.
“He’s alive,” Sean pronounced. “His pulse is so slow he would be declared dead in a hospital, but it’s there.”
Despite her attempts to stop them, a few tears spilled over her lashes. Krysta sank onto the side of the bed, all of her aches and pains making themselves known in a big way now that she wasn’t completely distracted.
“Before we get into what happened tonight,” Sean said as he strolled around to stand before her, “tell me where you’re hurt.”
She scrubbed her hands down her face and hoped he hadn’t noticed the tears. “My head is the worst. I think I might have a concussion.”