Shadows Strike(66)

Breathing hard, Ethan backed toward the door to the basement. The number of vampires they faced had finally begun to dwindle. A fortunate thing, because he had suffered so many damned wounds that they had stopped healing.

He allowed himself a quick glance down the stairs and saw Heather staring up at him, weapon raised, her face full of determination.

Aidan and the others who were still on their feet had things under control up here. So Ethan zipped down to Heather. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

He gave her a quick once-over and felt his stomach sink when he saw the bloody bandage wrapped around her thigh. “Your leg—”

“I’m fine. You?”

“Yeah. We’ve almost . . .” He trailed off as he looked beyond her.

Marcus, Richart, Sheldon, Tracy, Ed, and one of the Russian immortals Ethan had seen with Seth earlier all battled vampires who must have found their way in through at least one of the escape tunnels.

Ethan raced over to Ed’s side. “Go help Heather. I’ve got this.”

Ed backed away, weapon firing.

Ethan dove into the fray, swinging his blades despite his dwindling strength.

The Russian immortal nodded to Ethan. “I must go now,” he said in heavily accented English. “They need me in Russia.”

Ethan nodded and sank a blade into the nearest vamp as the Russian teleported away.

Down here, where no broken windows ushered in the predawn breeze, the stench of blood and death and decay grew to overpowering proportions.

A second vampire he fought fell onto the pile of his moldering comrades. Then a third and a fourth.

Ethan found he had to pause to catch his breath and braced his hands, still clutching the hilts of his swords, on his knees.

Silence fell, broken only by the groans of the wounded above.

Straightening, he glanced around.

No vampires remained standing.

Heather glanced back at him over her shoulder, her brow furrowed.

All movement upstairs ceased.

Ethan had no doubt that every immortal in the house strained to hear any noise that would indicate a second wave would strike.

Several minutes passed.

He heard Chris Reordon begin to issue orders above.

Tracy met Ethan’s gaze. “Is it over?”

He sighed. “I sure as hell hope so.”





Bastien yanked his sword from the heart of a fallen vampire and swung around . . . to find himself, Melanie, Alleck, and Linda the only ones left standing on sublevel one.

They had successfully prevented the attacking vampire army from descending any farther.

Gershom had not returned. Nor had Aidan returned with the baby.

Bastien couldn’t decide whether that was cause for concern or relief as he examined the hallway around him.

The white walls, ceiling, and floor looked as though someone has slung gallons of red paint on them. Clothing and decaying corpses littered the floor around them in such numbers it was damned near impossible to take a step without tripping.

Melanie’s glowing amber eyes met his. “Is it over?”

“I think so.” He sure as hell hoped so. They had all taken a beating. And every human guard on this floor was down. The few civilians who hadn’t had time to evacuate to the lower floors before the vampires made it this far had fallen, too. He nodded at them. “No time to wait and see. We need to start looking for survivors and save anyone we can.”

Sheathing her weapons, Melanie limped toward the first casualty.





The acrid scent of smoke stung Seth’s nostrils, distracting him momentarily from the nauseating aromas of death and decay.

All movement ceased as quiet fell on the compound.

Few of the buildings remained standing. Defeating this army of vampires had taken everything the immortals had had and then some. Then some being an assload of explosives the Russian branch of the network had employed.

“Is it over?” Lisette asked.

Seth closed his eyes, let his preternaturally sharp senses seek anything that would indicate more human minions would take up the fight their vampire comrades had lost.

“It’s over,” he confirmed.

Network soldiers went to work, locating the wounded and collecting the bodies of their fallen comrades.

Eyes still closed, Seth called to Zach telepathically. Zach? Have you found him?

I’m on his trail. Don’t distract me.

Lisette limped over to Seth’s side. “Where is Zach?”

“Pursuing one of the Others who put in an appearance at David’s. Ami found the Other standing over Adira’s crib, bearing Marcus’s appearance.”

Horror filled her bloodstained features. “Is Adira all right?”

“Yes. Ami summoned me before the Other could harm her.”

“It wasn’t Gershom?”

“No.”

“And Zach?”

“Is bitching about me distracting him, so I assume he’s fine.”

“Who do you think it was?”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait until Zach catches up with him.”

She seemed as displeased by the notion as he.

Seth would much rather hunt down the culprit himself. But he had three battle scenes to help the network clean up and conceal from authorities. Dozens of wounded humans to heal and teleport to various network infirmaries.

Sheathing his swords, he stepped out into the crimson-stained snow.





Heather thanked Aidan as he healed her thigh, as well as the cuts a few of the vampires had managed to get in before they had collapsed.

She hadn’t realized there had been so many, hadn’t even felt most of them, until the battle had ended and adrenaline had ceased pumping through her veins. Then every slice the damned vampires had scored had begun to burn and throb.

Ethan availed himself of bagged blood while Aidan healed Heather’s wounds. Like every other immortal present, he bore countless injuries. So much blood coated him and dampened his hair that she could barely distinguish him from the others.

“Let’s go get cleaned up,” he suggested.

Nodding, she dragged her weary body to her feet and shuffled down the hallway with him. Once inside the bedroom they’d claimed, Heather stood, shoulders slumped, as Ethan opened the shower door, turned on the water, and adjusted the temperature. She didn’t think she had ever been so exhausted in her life.

“Let me help you, honey.”

She looked up as Ethan moved to stand before her and started divesting her of her various sheaths and the weapons she hadn’t used.

“Are you okay?” he asked, bloody brow creased.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

He nodded. “Anything else?”

She sighed. “Upset by the losses.” Several of the network soldiers hadn’t survived. “And . . .”

“And?”

“It’s going to take me a while to get used to this. To the violence and death.”

“You say that as if you feel you have to get used to it,” he murmured, watching her intently.

Heather was too tired to tread carefully. “Won’t I? If I stick around, won’t this become a norm for me?”

Setting the last holster aside, he went to work on her belt. “Nothing about this was a norm, Heather. We’ve never been attacked on three fronts at the same time before. We’ve never been divided by an enemy like this in an attempt to reduce our numbers and conquer us. Hell, until now the only time any of David’s homes have been breached by an enemy was when Bastien kidnapped Sarah. And we sure as hell have never seen a vampire army that spanned more than one continent and claimed such numbers. Even Shadow River wasn’t this large.”

When he untucked her shirt, she raised her arms and let him pull it over her head. “You still hunt vampires on a nightly basis.”

“But you may not have to,” he said slowly. “If you decide to join us, that is.” He removed her bra, pants, and bikini panties. “You could continue doing what you’re already doing.” He pulled off all of his clothing in a blink. Numerous scars that would fade while he slept marred his large, muscular body. “You could be Chris’s eyes and ears. Continue working with your dad.”

At last she found a faint smile. “Could you maybe not mention my dad while we’re both standing here naked? I mean, I know I’m too tired to do any fun stuff, but . . . still.”

Laughing, he looped an arm around her and guided her into the shower. “Yeah. I didn’t think that one through.”

And she had evaded his question. His veiled request.

Warm water sluiced down over her, sweeping away the remains of battle as steam enveloped them. Heather reached for the soap.

Ethan stopped her. “Let me.” Grabbing the soap, he lathered up a cloth she hadn’t seen him grab. The tenderness with which he bathed away the splashes of blood on her bare form made her want to weep. As did the disappointment he tried to conceal behind teasing comments and soft smiles.

He had recognized her evasion for what it had been.

Heather tried to take the cloth from him once she was clean, but he would have none of it.

“You’re weaving on your feet,” he said just before he blurred and soap suds flew. Seconds later, he stilled and rinsed himself clean.

She found a smile. “Aren’t you tired at all?”

“A little. But the blood replenished much of my energy.”

Lucky him. Heather could barely keep her eyes open.

Ethan shut off the water. Helping her out of the shower, he toweled her dry, kept her upright long enough for them both to brush their teeth, then climbed into bed with her and tucked her up against his side.