Shadows Strike(12)

“Precisely.”

Zach abruptly reappeared, his black T-shirt peppered with holes and glistening with blood. Leaning forward, he braced his hands on his knees as blood trailed from his lips and dappled the floor.

Heather gasped.

Lisette did, too, and leapt to Zach’s side, wrapping an arm around him. “Zach! What happened? Are you all right?”

Zach released a growl of fury, then straightened, his eyes glowing golden.

Ethan rested a hand on Heather’s hip and eased her behind him.

“Did you neglect to tell me something, Ethan?” Zach snarled.

Ethan took in the bullet holes. “Oh. Right. The, uh . . . the network’s on lockdown.”

Lisette sent Ethan a reproving look.

“What?” he said. “I told you one of the vampires had had a psychotic break. How did you think Chris would react?”

Lisette went to work, unbuttoning Zach’s shirt. “I take it someone was injured?”

“Several someones, apparently. Chris didn’t go into details. He just said everyone is on edge and he doesn’t want anyone in or out until tensions ease.”

“Thank you,” Zach sneered, “for the heads-up.”

Well, hell. Ethan had been just a tad distracted.

As Lisette untucked Zach’s shirt and parted it, little chunks of metal fell to the floor.

“What are those?” Heather asked. Prying Ethan’s hand from her hip (he hadn’t even realized he still gripped her), she stepped up beside him.

“The bullets that didn’t pass through me,” Zach gritted. His chest and abs, leanly muscled, bore a dozen or more holes that wept blood.

“Heather,” Lisette said, “do you have a towel or something I can use to clean his wounds?”

“Of course.” Heather hurried to the bathroom.

Zach continued to fling visual daggers Ethan’s way.

“Look,” Ethan said, preternaturally soft so Heather wouldn’t hear him, “I know what you’re thinking and I didn’t neglect to warn you on purpose. I didn’t set you up, Zach, because I’m jealous. What Lisette and I had is over. We’re just friends and I’m fine with that.” The truth in that statement startled him. He really was fine with it. “I was distracted.” His gaze drifted past Zach and Lisette to the bathroom doorway. “Incredibly, temptingly distracted.”

“You’re smitten with her,” Lisette pronounced with a sly smile.

Ethan didn’t bother to deny it. “Yeah, I am.”

Heather hurried back into the room and offered Lisette two towels. “I brought a wet one and a dry one. Can I do anything else?”

Lisette took the towels. “No, thank you.”

Heather returned to Ethan’s side while Lisette used the wet towel to wipe away the blood that stained Zach’s skin. The wounds beneath sealed themselves and healed as they watched.

Zach was thousands of years old and almost as powerful as Seth, the Immortal Guardians’ leader. That came with serious perks.

“That’s amazing,” Heather breathed, eyes wide.

A tinny version of the R.E.M. tune “It’s the End of the World as We Know It” suddenly filled the room.

Zach pulled a cell phone from his back pocket and answered. “What?”

“Zach, was that you just now?” Chris asked on the other end.

Ethan’s heightened senses allowed him to hear both sides of the conversation.

“Yes.”

Chris swore. “Sorry about that. We’re on lockdown and everyone around here is a little trigger-happy today.”

“No problem. Shall we try this again?”

“Yes. Were you coming to take me to Miss Lane’s house?”

“Yes.”

“Then skip the lobby and just teleport directly to my private office this time.”

“I’m on my way.”

As soon as Lisette finished swiping his chest with the dry towel, Zach dropped a kiss on her lips and vanished.

Heather looked up at Ethan. “You live in a fascinating world.”

He fought the urge to tell her that she could, too, if she chose to do so.





The incredibly tall, handsome, and scary elder immortal returned with another man.

Heather studied the latter. Dark blond hair he appeared to have finger-combed a few too many times stopped short of meeting his collar. Discerning blue eyes catalogued everyone and everything in the room as he gave her home a quick survey. Standing just short of six feet tall, he had broad shoulders and a lean build like Zach. Neither, she noted, packed as much muscle as Ethan did.

The fingers of one of the new man’s hands clutched the handle of a worn, soft leather briefcase. “Heather Lane?” he asked, those blue eyes locking on hers.

“Yes.”

Striding forward, he held out his free hand. “Chris Reordon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Heather shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, too,” she returned with caution.

“What happened at the network?” Lisette asked. “Ethan said a vampire had a psychotic break. Was it . . . was it Cliff?”

His shoulders slumping wearily, Chris nodded and turned to the others. “Yeah.”

Low curses all around.

Heather wondered who this vampire Cliff was and why they all seemed so heartbroken by the news. Weren’t vampires supposed to be the bad guys?

“What happened?” Ethan asked.

“I don’t know. We’re still trying to piece it together. But, shortly after sunrise, Dr. Whetsman apparently said something that set Cliff off.”

“Dumb fuck,” Zach muttered darkly.

Ethan nodded. “I hate that prick.”

“I do, too,” Chris admitted, “but he’s a fucking genius. So we need him. Anyway, Cliff just . . . lost it. I’ve never seen him like that before.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as though stress had tightened the muscles there. “He broke one of Whetsman’s arms, his hip, and looked like he was doing his damnedest to rip Whetsman’s head from his shoulders when the guards opened fire.”

“Was Whetsman hit?” Zach asked with what sounded to Heather like hope. She couldn’t quite place his accent, but it almost sounded British.

“No. My guys are excellent marksmen.”

“Damn,” all three immortals exclaimed.

“Whetsman made a run for it, though,” Chris continued. “Cliff followed and made it all the way to the damned lobby before blood loss and the tranquilizer brought him down.”

Lisette bit her lip. “Did Cliff . . . Is he . . . ?”

“No.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“But he won’t wake up for hours. It took double the usual dose to knock him out.”

Ethan whistled. “I’m surprised that didn’t kill him. Is Linda with him?”

“No. She left just before it happened and we haven’t been able to reach her.”

Zach’s eyebrows lowered. “What about Bastien and Melanie? Are they with him?”

“No. I couldn’t find Seth to teleport them over and didn’t want Richart to teleport them in case Bastien did something rash. So I figured I’d wait and tell them when the sun sets.”

Zach shook his head. “Seth is in Mozambique. And Bastien and Melanie will want to know now. I’ll tell them and take them to him.”

Lisette caught his arm. “Heal Ethan first. I can sense his pain and I’m not even an empath.”

Heather snapped her head toward Ethan. She had been so distracted that she hadn’t realized he was slumping a little more to one side. “Ethan?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, sending her another of those smiles that made her heart race.

Sighing, Zach crossed to Ethan and flattened a hand on Ethan’s chest.

Within seconds, Ethan’s shoulders straightened and his face regained some color.

“Thank you,” Ethan said when Zach broke the contact.

Zach gave him an abrupt nod and disappeared.

“He healed your wounds?” Heather asked.

Ethan nodded.

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see?”

Smiling, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to his armpits, revealing a torso—front and back—that now bore no wounds.

Heather stared. “That’s incredible.”

Chris looked at Lisette and cocked a brow as Ethan lowered his shirt. “So when did the two immortal black sheep suddenly become best buddies?”

Lisette laughed. “Zach and Bastien both have dark pasts, couldn’t care less who likes them or who doesn’t, and share an appalling lack of concern over pissing off Seth. How could they not gravitate toward each other?”

Shaking his head, Chris turned back to Heather. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be away from the network long, so . . .” He motioned to the sofa. “Shall we get down to business?”

She nodded, relaxing a little when Ethan took her hand in his and linked their fingers. In short order, Heather found herself seated on the sofa between Ethan and the lovely French immortal.

Chris grabbed the chair Ethan had vacated and positioned it on the opposite side of the coffee table. Seating himself in it, he faced them. “I understand you helped Ethan defeat some vampires this morning, Heather. Thank you for that.”

Heather shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t think I helped him all that much.”