“Who’s doing this?” she shouted, panic threatening. Who could move so fast that even she couldn’t see them?
“I can’t stay,” he whispered, blood painting his teeth and staining his lips.
“Who’s doing this to you?” she repeated urgently. “How can I help you?”
He shook his head. “You can’t. I can’t believe you would even want to, knowing . . .”
“Knowing what?”
He grunted as another bone snapped.
“Zach!”
His eyes rolled back as his knees bent.
Lisette dropped her swords and thrust her arms out to catch him as he sank toward the ground.
A warm breeze washed over her as he vanished inches before they touched.
Shaken, she stared down at her empty arms. “Zach?”
Turning in a circle, she waited for whatever unseen force had attacked him to turn its attention on her and begin inflicting wounds.
It didn’t.
“Zach!” Lisette jerked awake, her frantic gaze taking in her surroundings. Heart racing, she sat up and reached over to turn on the lamp beside the bed. Though she could see clearly in darkness, she had never managed to abandon the comfort light had given her as a mortal and appreciated the dim glow that now illuminated the familiar basement bedroom of her two-story home.
A dream. It had all been a dream?
“So real,” she whispered. Looking down, she discovered that her hands shook.
What had just happened? It had been a dream, but . . .
The fact that she had been fighting vampires didn’t surprise her. When one hunted and slew vampires every night for two hundred years, one tended to dream of little else. But Zach’s presence . . .
She frowned. Elder telepathic immortals like Seth and David maintained complete control over their gift and didn’t hear other people’s thoughts unless they chose to. Younger telepathic immortals like Lisette and her brother Étienne, who had only lived roughly two hundred and thirty years, had far less control over their gift and automatically heard the thoughts of everyone around them unless the telepaths consciously blocked them. Since she lost that ability once she fell asleep, Lisette often found herself pulled into the dreams of those with whom she was in close proximity. As did Étienne, who had walked into her dreams countless times over the centuries. She had learned very quickly to discern who was a natural part of her dream and who wasn’t. When Étienne walked into her dreams, she knew it.
Only Lisette and Tracy, her mortal Second, slumbered in the house. And Tracy sure as hell wasn’t dreaming of Zach. Tracy didn’t even know Zach existed. No, a quick peek told Lisette Tracy dreamed of swimming in a lake near her childhood home.
“The dream was mine,” Lisette said, trying to understand. But Zach had not been indigenous to it.
He must have walked into her dream.
Which meant he was nearby.
Excitement flared. Tossing back the covers, she sped upstairs, disabled the security system, and dashed out the front door.
Sunlight seared her.
Spewing French epithets, she darted into the heavy shade of the nearest tree.
How could she have forgotten it was morning?
Her skin pinkened with a sunburn as she wished for the millionth time that she possessed elder immortals’ stronger tolerance for the sun.
Turning around, she looked up at the roof, expecting to see Zach perched atop it as he had so often perched atop David’s.
Nothing.
Clinging to shadows, she circled around to the back, again looked up, and found nothing.
Disappointment snuffed out excitement as she glanced around.
No need to worry about neighbors seeing her in her nightgown. Chris Reordon, head of the East Coast division of the human network that aided immortals, had built her house upon a nice, large tract of land so no one could live close enough to her for her to hear their thoughts or experience their dreams.
Thoroughly confused, she took the most shaded route back to the house, darted inside, and locked out the daylight.
“Are you mental?”
Lisette jumped at the question.
Tracy squinted at her through eyes puffy from sleep, her blond hair a tangled mess. Matching Lisette in height and slender of build, the Second wore only a large man’s T-shirt that didn’t quite reach mid-thigh and clutched two 9mm’s. “What the hell were you doing out there?”
Lisette shrugged, feeling foolish. “I thought I heard something.”
“Well, next time send me out to investigate. That’s what I’m here for.” Almost every Immortal Guardian was assigned a human Second for just that purpose: so they could do the things immortals couldn’t (or shouldn’t) do during daylight hours because of their photosensitivity.
Flicking on the safeties, Tracy headed into the kitchen. “Let me get you some blood to heal those burns.”