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Night Unbound(15)

By:Dianne Duvall

Sitting back on her heels, Lisette glanced around.
Only typical night sounds met her sensitive ears. And Zach’s scent, including the blood that coated him, was the only one out of place.
Tilting her head back, she looked up. He couldn’t have flown here with his wings as messed up as they were. He must have teleported to the roof and collapsed.
She studied his large, battered form once more. Though he was six foot ten and boasted over two hundred pounds of muscle, lifting him wouldn’t be a problem. (Preternatural strength came in handy at times like this.) The problem lay with his wings, what to do with them while she carried him inside.
They were huge. And so damaged. She would have to secure them with something to keep them from dangling and dragging on the ground.
Grabbing one of her discarded shoto swords, she pressed it into Zach’s hand and curled his fingers around it. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. Taking the other, she zipped around to enter through the front door. It took only seconds to lock it behind her, drop the shoto, grab a blanket from the hall closet, and exit through the back door.
Zach didn’t move when she approached.
Lifting his shoulders, she unrolled the blanket under him, then carefully wrapped it around his wings and tucked the ends in the front. It alarmed her that he didn’t moan or evince any other sign of suffering at her touch.
Hoisting him over her shoulder, she rose and headed for the back deck. She didn’t rush this time, but took slow, steady steps that jostled him as little as possible. Once inside, she locked the door, reset the alarm system, and headed down to the basement.
Her queen-sized bed seemed small when she lowered Zach onto it, facedown to protect his wings. Several of those soft, nearly translucent feathers floated down to the floor when she unwrapped and removed the blanket.
Lisette tossed it in a corner.
Listening to his labored breathing, she wondered what she should do. She had never learned all of the intricacies of first aid, because she had always had a Second to patch her up and had, fortunately, never had to patch up one of her Seconds.
She couldn’t bring Tracy into this, because her Second’s mind would be an open book to any telepath in the area. Seth would know instantly what had happened and . . . Lisette feared what Seth might do to Zach if he learned Zach’s whereabouts. Or what Seth might do to Lisette if he learned she had disobeyed him and aided the immortal.
She ran down a quick checklist of the other immortals in the area, trying to think of any who might be an ally to her in this situation. Picking up the phone, she dialed Ethan’s number.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“I need you,” she told him.
“I’m on my way.”
Ethan was great that way.
Lisette exchanged her nightgown for hunting clothes and sat by the bed until she heard Ethan’s motorcycle approach.
Heading upstairs, she disabled the alarm system and opened the door just as he leaned against the doorjamb.
He stood about six feet four inches tall with short, wavy black hair, a strong jaw, and the piercing brown eyes common amongst immortals. Broad shoulders tested the seams of a black T-shirt. Nicely developed pecs and biceps flexed as he combed a hand through his hair, leaving it slightly tousled. “I am so glad you called,” he said, flashing her a boyish grin. “I really need to get laid tonight.”
Rolling her eyes, Lisette stepped back and waited for him to enter. “When I said I needed you, I meant I needed your help.” Closing the door, she locked it, but didn’t bother to reset the alarm.
His face fell. “Ah, hell. You mean this wasn’t a butt call?”
“Booty call, Ethan. I believe the term is booty call. Honestly, I’m a hundred and thirty years older than you and from France. How can I be more familiar with American slang than you are? You were born here.”
He shrugged. “I don’t watch a lot of television and my Second is going on sixty. Neither one of us keeps up with whatever the hip kids are saying these days.”
“First, I don’t think anyone says hip anymore. And second, Ed is going on sixty?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn. He looks like he’s in his late thirties.” He was actually pretty hot.
“I know, right? He dates more than I do.” Ethan propped his hands on his black jean-clad hips. “This really wasn’t a booty call?”
“No.” Ethan was an American immortal born a century or so ago. Until recently, he had been the youngest immortal in the area.
He had also been Lisette’s protégé.
Shortly after vampires had turned Ethan against his will, Seth had deposited him on Lisette’s doorstep and assigned her to train and mentor him. Ethan had been handsome and charming and utterly smitten with her. Lisette had been lonely and flattered and physically attracted to him. So, for years, the two of them had carried on a clandestine affair that she didn’t think even Seth and David knew about. The relationship had ended amicably. Lisette had begun to fear Ethan might be falling in love with her. (He was something of an anomaly in that his mind was almost impossible to read, even by the elders.) Unable to return the affection, she had reluctantly ended the affair.