Darkness Rises(4)

A sound drew her attention to the entrance of the alley.
Ice skittered through her.
Seven vampires. Eyes glowing various shades of blue, green, silver, and amber.
I’m dead. The panicked thought barreled through her brain at light speed. There’s no way I’ll survive this.
“She’s a second!” one snarled.
What the hell is a second?
Their glowing orange auras zipped toward her.
Kysta swung and thrust as she backed away toward the chain-link fence. But, even as she scored hits, the vampires flew past to circle around and cut her off.
A thud sounded behind her. The vamps in front of her paused to look over her shoulder. Something bumped her back.
Krysta spun around and swung.
A large hand clamped around her wrist, stopping her with infuriating ease.
Her gaze rose, taking in the tall figure garbed all in black who towered over her. His luminescent amber eyes, as bright as the moon, met hers. His lips parted, exposing deadly fangs.
But his aura . . .
It wasn’t orange like the other vampires’. It was bright white and purple, the two colors swirling together without ever mixing. She had never seen anything like it.
Or had she?
Hadn’t she seen it up on the roof earlier and dismissed it as a trick of the eye?
“You,” she breathed, and waited for him to strike a death blow.

Étienne frowned.
She knew him?
He released her arm, ready to catch it again if she should try to skewer him.
The vamps behind her decided to take advantage of her inattention and zipped forward.
Quick as lightning, Étienne drew four throwing stars and threw them. Two struck carotid arteries.
Krysta’s eyes widened as blood splattered her back.
“You started this,” he said. As soon as this was over, he intended to reprimand the hell out of her for stepping outside the bounds of her duties. She must be a new Second. Reordon usually made it clear that the human guards who aided immortals were not to strike out and hunt vampires on their own unless they suspected their immortal had been captured and, for some reason, couldn’t reach anyone at the network for help. “Now let’s finish it together. I’ll watch your back.”
Turning his own back, he drew his katanas and tore into the four vamps who had circled around to attack her from the rear.
Bloody bastards had no honor. Attacking a woman—a human woman at that—from behind.
Battle sounds erupted over his shoulder. Étienne listened closely for any sound that might indicate Krysta wasn’t holding her own, still astonished by the skill she had displayed thus far.
The last of the four vampires he fought fell.
Étienne swung around. Three still remained. Krysta had managed to keep them at bay, but had struck no more killing blows. She was tiring. Fending off blows backed by supernatural strength tended to do that to a human.
Étienne stepped up beside her, careful to avoid her swords, and dove into the fight.
The vamps immediately turned away from her to defend themselves, but didn’t succeed. Étienne opened the arteries of two, who fell to the ground. The last vampire opted to abandon his dying comrades, some of whom had already begun to shrivel up like mummies as the virus that infected them devoured them from the inside out in a desperate bid to live. The vamp’s crimson-stained form blurred as he darted toward the street.
Étienne caught him easily at the mouth of the alley, yanked him back into the shadows, and swiftly dispatched him.
When he turned around, Krysta had sheathed one of her swords and was texting away on a cell phone.
He strolled toward her.
Head jerking up, she pocketed the phone and drew her other sword.
He frowned. She watched him as though she expected him to attack her.
“How badly are you hurt?” he asked. Surely she could tell friend from foe. Even Sheldon, his brother Richart’s notoriously green Second, could do that much.
“I’m fine,” she lied, chin rising. Her clothing sported a dozen or more cuts and tears. She also rested most of her weight on one leg and limped when she moved. Like now, as she inched backward at his approach.
Étienne stopped several feet away from her.
She feared him. He could both smell it and see it in the dilation of her warm, brown eyes.
“You are a Second, aren’t you?” he asked.
“What is a Second?” she practically shouted.
Ah, hell. This was a problem. She was a civilian?
He should call Chris Reordon, the head of the East Coast division of the human network that aided immortals. But Étienne couldn’t bring himself to do so. This mortal woman had just hunted and defeated four vampires on her own. And she hadn’t broken down when facing almost certain death. He found that damned appealing and worried over what Chris might do to her to ensure her silence and cooperation. He hadn’t had much hands-on contact with the human network until recently, but had heard Chris could be ruthless when it came to protecting the identities and ensuring the safety of the Immortal Guardians.#p#分页标题#e#