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Darkness Rises(41)

By:Dianne Duvall

He jerked awake.
Krysta knelt beside him on the bed, shaking the hell out of him. “Jeeze. It’s a good thing I didn’t want to stake you. You would have slept right through it!”
Groaning, he sat up. “I sleep deeper when I’m healing. What’s wrong?”
“Your cell phone has been ringing like crazy and that damned song is making me mental.”
When the singing started up again, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and answered.
“Yes?”
“We have a serious problem,” Chris Reordon said without preamble.
Damn it. “No, we don’t. I—”
“Richart told me you left quite a mess at Duke tonight.”
Étienne frowned. “Yes.”
“So we have a problem. I sent my cleaning crew over there ASAP and they didn’t find dick.”
Étienne stood, alarm striking. “What?”
“There was nothing. No bodies. No blood. No vampire clothing or bling. No dental fillings or caps. No humans freaking out. Nada.”
“That’s not possible. There should have been a couple dozen bodies—”
“There weren’t. There was, however, a large area of wet pavement where no sprinklers could reach. And the surveillance tapes for the security cameras in that area of the campus are all gone.”
Étienne swore.
“Exactly. Where are you? Are you still with the woman?”
“Yes, but—”
“Hang up, call Richart, and have him teleport you to safety.”
“That isn’t—”
“You aren’t getting it. The group that attacked you now has the surveillance tapes. They also have connections or they wouldn’t have been able to clean that mess up so quickly. They can use the tapes to trace the license plate on her car. They probably already know where you are. Get the hell out of there. Now.”
Étienne looked to Krysta, who watched him with concern. “We have to go.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Where? Why?”
Someone shouted something in the background on Chris’s end of the conversation as engine noise flowed over the line. “Where are you?” Étienne asked.
“At the network, getting into a Black Hawk with reinforcements. More will follow on the ground in a Humvee.”
A twig snapped outside. Then another.
Étienne looked toward the window. “Too late. They’re here.”
“Call Richart!”

Chapter 7
Krysta stared at Étienne with wide eyes. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong.
He grabbed her arm and, practically lifting her off the bed, urged her into the den.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Richart,” he spoke into his phone. “I need you . . . Yes.” He pocketed the phone. “Does this place have a basement?”
“No. I mean, not really. There’s a crawl space under the house that you can access from outside, but—”
Étienne stopped short and looked toward the bedroom, then the kitchen, his head tilted as though he were listening to something.
Krysta remained quiet, but heard nothing save her heart slamming against her ribs.
Kneeling, Étienne dragged her down with him. While she fought for balance, he drew back his arm and punched through the floor as though it were cardboard. Half a dozen times. Knuckles splitting. Bones cracking.
Krysta gaped at the hole he created, an absurd thought rearing its head: No way were she and Sean going to get their security deposit back.
Without warning, Étienne picked her up and dropped her through the jagged hole.
She grunted as she hit the hard-packed dirt floor. It was only a four or five foot drop, but she didn’t have time to twist around and use her hands to break the fall.
Then, as though they were in a Warner Brothers cartoon, Étienne landed on top of her, flattening her and stealing her breath.
Holy crap, he was heavy!
“Sorry,” he murmured in her ear as he rolled off her and sat up.
“What—?”
Bullets tore through the house overhead. Large bullets, judging by the debris flying around the den and the narrow rays of sunshine beginning to brighten the room.#p#分页标题#e#
Her mouth fell open.
Étienne rose into a crouch, eyes staring intently through the hole.
Richart appeared above them. His body jerked as bullets slammed into him.
Étienne lunged up and yanked his brother down into the crawl space with them.
Richart landed hard, too.
Étienne spoke urgently to him in French.
“No,” Krysta protested shrilly. “No way! You can’t do that! You can’t talk in French while I’m sitting here freaking out because I don’t know what the hell is going on!”
Richart rolled onto his stomach and managed to get to his hands and knees.