“Yes.”
“Excellent!” Grinning, she started toward him.
Bastien scowled. “Hug him and I’ll have to kill him.”
She stopped and blew him a raspberry. “Spoilsport.”
“A jealous spoilsport.” Bastien drew her into his arms. “It’s time for me to hunt.”
“Okay. Do you have the antidote on you?”
“Yes.”
She bussed his lips. “Be safe.”
“Always.” He claimed her lips in a kiss that lingered. “I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you.” Crossing to a coat stand just inside the door, he removed a long, black coat. The interior was lined with as many weapons as Étienne’s was.
Delving into an outer pocket, Bastien returned to Melanie and held out several small packages.
Melanie took one and turned it over. “No way! Organic chocolate turtles?”
He nodded and smiled.
Whooping with excitement, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist for a tight hug.
Bastien laughed and hugged her back.
As soon as she dropped her feet to the floor, she tore into the first package and popped the whole candy into her mouth. Her eyes closed in ecstasy. “Oh man,” she said around a mouthful of chocolate. “This is so good.”
Sean raised his eyebrows.
Meeting his gaze, she covered her mouth and laughed.
Bastien shook his head with a smile and crossed his arms over his chest.
She chewed and swallowed. “I haven’t been immortal that long and had to give up all of my favorite foods, so I’ve been craving them like crazy.”
“Why did you have to give up all of your favorite foods?”
“Because none of them were organic. Our stupid sense of taste is just as heightened as our vision and our sense of smell. And, trust me when I say, foods that contain artificial flavoring and other synthetic chemicals do not taste the same as the real deal. As Bastien once warned me, vanilla and synthetic vanillin taste as different to us as turkey and tofurky do to you.” She stuffed another chocolate turtle in her mouth and endeavored to speak around it. “Bastien’s been looking for organic alternatives to some of my favorites and I love turtles.”
Laughing, Bastien cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “You are too adorable.” He kissed her again, longer and deeper. “You taste good, too.”
Her cheeks flushed as he released her.
Bastien nodded at Sean. “Have fun.” He pointed to the vampires. “You two . . . behave. And leave Melanie’s candy alone. She can kick your ass without a thought now.”
Cliff and Stuart clicked their heels together and saluted.
Shaking his head, Bastien left.
Melanie wadded up the empty packages and tossed them into a wastebasket on the other side of the room.
“Nice,” Sean praised with a smile.
“Thanks. I imagine you have some questions.”
“About a hundred of them.”
Smiling, she motioned to a couple of chairs over by a desk. “What would you like to know first?”
He waited for her to sit, then seated himself beside her. “Well, I’ve always wanted to know why I can heal with my hands.”
She dropped the rest of the candy packages on the desk and leaned forward, her face lighting with interest. “You can heal with your hands?”
He nodded.
“That’s wonderful. Two gifted ones who are descendants of a powerful healer just came to our attention recently, but neither can heal with their hands.”
Cliff dragged a chair over to join them. “So, you can just lay hands on a wound and heal it?” He sat down. “That’s so cool. I wish I could do that.”
Stuart nodded as he pulled up another chair. “Me, too.” Seating himself, he surreptitiously reached toward the candy on the desk.
“Touch it and die,” Melanie warned without looking at him.
He snatched his hand back.
“Now,” she said. “You can heal with your hands because your DNA is very unique. Every human has forty-six DNA memo groups that provide the blueprint for his or her existence.”
“Okay,” Sean said.
“Gifted ones have seven thousand.”
“Awesome!” Stuart said. “I don’t know what that means.”
Sean wasn’t sure he did either. “Why?”
She shook her head. “We aren’t sure.”
Fascinated by the information he proceeded to acquire, Sean spent the next several hours alone in a room, conversing with a beautiful immortal and two curious, genial vampires with a fondness for practical jokes.
It was the strangest night of his life.
Étienne smiled faintly. He and Krysta sat on the edge of Davis Library’s roof at UNC Chapel Hill. It had taken some coaxing to get her to do it, and then to relax. Like many humans, she had a fear of heights.