Seth grinned as Chris’s mouth fell open once more. “Melanie has been a good influence on you.”
Bastien grimaced and swore. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
“What?”
“Being nice,” he said with much disgust.
Melanie smiled.
Seth laughed. “Yes.” He teleported them back to the holding room with the mercenaries. “Shall we?” He could have just popped them into the room with the vampires, but knew the network guards liked to keep track of their movements for safety’s sake.
Bastien kissed Melanie, then led Seth out into the hallway and to the holding room next door.
Melanie returned to her office while Chris headed for the elevators.
A guard standing in front of the vampires’ holding room took a security card from his pocket.
Seth shook his head and waved a hand in front of the lock. A thunk sounded. Opening the heavy door, he stepped inside, Bastien right on his heels.
A thought closed the door behind them.
Five vampires stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes wide with trepidation, heavy titanium chains weighing down their right arms and anchoring them to the walls.
Seth said nothing as he scanned their minds.
The virus had not progressed far in these. The brain damage was minimal. They must have all been turned during the past year.
“Good evening, gentlemen. I’m Seth, leader of the Immortal Guardians.”
They exchanged nervous looks.
One wearing a Tar Heels T-shirt swallowed. “Are you the one they call the Day Walker?”
“Yes.”
“Why do they call you that?” another asked.
Seth glanced at Bastien, who clapped a hand to his forehead. “Because I can walk in daylight,” he explained.
“Ohhhhhhh.”
Okay, so he wasn’t the smartest kid Seth had encountered. At least he wasn’t manic.
Chapter 15
“You aren’t sleeping,” Étienne commented.
He lay on his back, Krysta’s lovely naked body cuddled up against his side in bed.
“I’m procrastinating,” she said, drawing circles on his chest with her fingers.
“About sleeping?”
“No. There’s something I want to ask you and I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”
“I don’t know that I like the sound of that,” he admitted. Tentative was not a word he would ordinarily use to describe her.
She sat up, the covers falling to her waist, and swiveled to face him.
Étienne’s gaze instantly dropped to her breasts.
She began to speak earnestly, but—for the life of him—Étienne didn’t know what she was saying.
He held up a hand.
She quieted.
He raised his eyes. “If there’s something you wish to discuss, you’re going to have to cover up. I can’t concentrate with your beautiful breasts in my face, tempting me to touch and taste them.”
She dragged the covers up and tucked them under her arms, her lips forming a small smile. “What breasts? I’m built like a ten-year-old boy.”
“The hell you are. I love your breasts. They’re perfect. And, if you doubt that . . .” He motioned to the sheet tenting over his erection.
She smiled and licked her lips. “Ooh. Nice.”
His breath caught as she reached for him.
Stopping inches away, she drew her hand back. “No. Not now. I really do need to talk to you.”
Damn.
“But hold that thought.”
He could do that. “What’s troubling you?” He took her hand and began to toy with her fingers. Did she regret making love with him?
“The same thing that troubled me before,” she answered. “With the mercenary threat combining with the increased vampire population, I can’t continue to hunt the way I have been. I’m putting too many people I care about in danger.”
And he was one of those people. Étienne still couldn’t believe it. “Krysta, I told you. You aren’t—”
“Let me finish.”
“As you wish.”
“There’s an obvious solution. One that will keep me from putting you in danger and from harming Sean when he heals my wounds.”
“Okay.” Had she decided to follow Seth’s advice and become a Second? As much as Étienne wished to keep her safe, he would miss hunting with her each night.
“I want you to transform me,” she blurted, then held her breath.
Étienne stared, convinced he had heard her wrong. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I want you to transform me.”
His heart began to thud against his ribs. His hand tightened on hers. He sat up, the motion drawing them closer. “Krysta . . .”
“Just hear me out,” she said anxiously.
“Only weeks ago you thought I was a vampire and were contemplating killing me.”