Darkness Rises(56)
“At Duke?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t refute it. He was right. Even had the mercenaries not shown up with guns blazing, she couldn’t have defeated that many vampires on her own.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked.
“That I could have died?” she countered. “Of course. A lot. But I know every time I go out hunting that my death is a possible outcome.”
“Then why the hell do you do it?”
She thought a moment. “Because it needs to be done. Because it’s worth the risk. Because I promised myself a long time ago that I would kill every vampire on the planet or die trying.”
“It’s personal.”
“Yes.”
He said nothing, just returned his gaze to the screen.
“You aren’t going to call me a fool or demand I stop?”
“You aren’t a fool. I understand a need for vengeance.”
“And the other?” she asked.
“I believe I already tried to convince you to stop hunting. I don’t have the energy tonight to bang my head against a brick wall.”
She laughed. “To be continued, then?”
He smiled. “To be continued.”
She tore her gaze away from his handsome profile and stared at the screen. “Have you seen this episode?”
He nodded. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“I saw it once a few years ago, but can’t remember how the husband did it. Don’t tell me.”
He curled his hand over her shoulder and drew her a little closer. “I won’t.”
Resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, she drew her legs up onto the sofa and relaxed against him.
Étienne heard the front door open and close and didn’t bother to open his eyes. Cam had been coming and going throughout the afternoon, as quietly as a mortal could, so as not to disturb the duo slumbering on the sofa.
Krysta would have to watch the Monk episode they had begun another time. She had fallen asleep only fifteen minutes into it.
Unwinding at last himself, Étienne had lain back on the sofa, drawn his legs up, and managed to spoon his body around her without landing them both on the floor.
Damn, it felt good. Even better than holding her hand had as they had slept beside each other at her house.
He had really needed this. The more he thought about what had happened at Duke, the more panicked he felt. That many vampires would have defeated her and ended her reign as North Carolina’s—if not the world’s—most successful mortal vampire hunter. And, if by some miracle they hadn’t, the mercenaries who had come later would have likely thought her an immortal and tranqed her with a dose that would’ve been lethal to her.
Either way, she would have died.
Tightening his hold, he buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent.
Something sharp pricked his neck just beneath his chin.
He stilled, opened his eyes.
Sean stood over them, his face set in stone, with one of Étienne’s own daggers in his hand, angled to slit Étienne’s throat.
Easy, Étienne spoke into his mind.
Sean’s eyes widened. “How did you do that?”
I’m telepathic. Speak softly so you won’t wake her. She had difficulty falling asleep.
“And you thought feeling her up would help?”
He sighed. If we’re going to do the keep-your-hands-off-my-sister thing, let me put her to bed first. Her bed, he stressed before Sean could suggest otherwise.
Sean withdrew the blade.
In one fluid motion, Etienne rose with Krysta in his arms. She stirred, but didn’t awaken.
Sean frowned. “What did you do to her? She’s usually a light sleeper.”
“Nothing. She’s just exhausted. Too little sleep and too many adrenaline rushes.”
Frowning, Sean followed him down to Lisette’s room, where Étienne laid Krysta on the bed and drew the covers up to her chin.
He turned to her brother and abandoned all hopes of getting any sleep today. “Let’s return to the living room, and I’ll bring you up to speed.”
Krysta was a nervous wreck on the ride to the meeting.
Cam drove while Sean sat in the passenger seat, scowling out the window.
Her brother wasn’t taking this very well. He was worried about her, afraid Étienne was screwing with her head (even more so now that he knew Étienne was a telepath), afraid the whole immortal versus vampire thing was bullshit, even though the concept of both being caused by a virus intrigued the medicine lover in him.
Krysta didn’t blame him. He had only had twenty-four hours to try to figure this out while she had known, or suspected, for two weeks now that Étienne was different.
And there was also the whole attraction thing that softened her toward Étienne.