Dianne Duvall - Darkness Rises

He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Krysta.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” she murmured, then turned back to Jenna.

Jenna smiled with pride. “He’s pre-med at UNC.”

“Oh. Great. My brother’s in med school there.” Alarm shot through her at the thought of Sean. “Oh, shit. My brother.”

Jenna leaned forward. “What about him?”

“We live together. Those men were looking for Étienne, but they found him at our house. Do you think they’ll go after Sean? Is Sean in danger?”

Brow furrowing, Jenna reached for her phone again and dialed. “Darnell? It’s Jenna again. Krysta has a brother and is worried he might be in danger . . . Oh. He did? . . . Okay, good. Thanks.”

She set her phone down again. “Chris took care of it.”

“Chris?” The same Chris Étienne expected to threaten her?

“Chris Reordon. Head of the East Coast division of the human network that aids immortals.”

Yep. Same one.

“He sent men over to guard your brother at work. No one will get near him.”

Krysta stared at her. Guard or interrogate? “Could I borrow your phone, please?”

“Of course.”

Krysta dialed Sean’s cell.

“Krys?” he answered almost immediately.

“Yeah. You okay?”

“Yeah.” He lowered his voice. “What the hell is going on? A bunch of Secret Service–looking guys showed up, pulled me aside, and said they’re friends of Étienne and are here to protect me.”

“They are.” She sure as hell hoped they were, anyway.

“Well, they’re freaking out my boss. They told Ed I’m in a witness relocation program and that there may have been a leak. What the hell? Did something happen? Or is this about last night?”

“Something happened. Étienne and I were sleeping and—”

“Oh, shit. Not together, right?”

“What?”

“You didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

She looked at Jenna and turned away, lowering her own voice. “Yes,” she whispered, “but all we did was sleep in the literal sense.”

“Are you crazy? ”

“I said we didn’t do anything!”

“You let your guard down with a vampire in the house!”

“He isn’t a vampire. He’s an immortal.”

“A what?”

“Never mind. Some guys with guns showed up.”

Sean swore again.

“I didn’t see them, but assume from the way Étienne and Richart were acting that they were like the soldiers or whatever last night.”

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Yes. But the house is all shot to hell.”

“ What? ”

“And Étienne punched a big-ass hole in the floor.”

“Great. There goes our security deposit.”

Jenna laughed.

Krysta turned back around.

“I’m sorry,” Jenna said. “I didn’t mean to listen. I’m still getting used to the acute hearing thing and haven’t learned how to tune things out yet.”

“Who was that?” Sean asked.

“Richart’s wife.”

“Vampires marry?”

“He isn’t . . . Forget it. Listen, the bottom line is if the soldiers could trace us to our house, they could trace you to your job. So I guess Étienne sent his friends over there to keep you safe.”

“Where are you?”

“At Richart’s house.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay? You haven’t been fed on or brainwashed or anything?”

“I’m fine, Sean. Just a little shaken up.”

Someone spoke in the background. “That was Ed. I have to go. But keep me posted. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Can you believe this shit is happening, Krys?”

“No.”

“Me either. Be safe.”

“You, too.”

She ended the call.

Bastien stirred, smiling as the dream faded. He and Melanie had been riding through the countryside near the home in which he had been raised. The horses beneath them had been those he had cherished so much as a young man. The air had been sweet and unclouded by pollution. The land quiet, free of the noise of man and machine that assaulted his sensitive ears on a nightly basis now.

Little had changed on the estate since he was a mortal. He had made sure of that.

Bastien had not lived the pristine life the other Immortal Guardians had after being transformed. Seth had not come to him and trained him, found a Second to help him conceal his nature, or paid him a wage. Bastien had had to fend for himself.

He didn’t resent it. How could one miss what one had never had?

He had simply done what he had to do to survive, which had included using his ability to feel other people’s emotions and his newfound strength and speed to acquire the money needed to buy his family’s ancestral estate and ensure it remained how he remembered it from happier times.

In the dream, he had been taking Melanie around to all of his favorite places. His favorite fishing spot as a boy. His favorite thinking spot as an adolescent. His favorite trysting spot as a young man.

As he stretched and woke fully, he decided he would have to take her there for real. Get away from everything.

If Seth would let him.

He grimaced. Going from leader to subordinate had not been easy and still chafed at times. But, if that was what it took to stay with Melanie, he would do it without complaint.

Or with little complaint.

Rolling onto his side, he reached for Melanie and found cold sheets.

Frowning, he lifted his head and followed the light to the corner of their bedroom.

Melanie sat at her desk, garbed only in one of his large T-shirts. Bathed in the light of a small lamp, she peered down at another of her thick medical books. Several more rested in piles at each elbow and clogged the floor-to-ceiling shelves beside the desk.

She leaned forward, one elbow resting on the wooden surface, while she scoured the text at preternatural speeds. Brow furrowed, she turned the page, read, turned the page, read, careful not to make a sound.

Bastien sat up, the sheet tangling around his waist. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Jumping, she spun around. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

He shook his head. “No. What’s wrong?” He knew her well and didn’t have to touch her to know her shoulders were knotted with tension.

She looked down, toyed with the corners of the book’s pages.

“Melanie? Talk to me, love. Tell me what’s troubling you.”

She sighed. “I’m flying blind, Bastien.” When she raised her head, her hazel eyes glistened with tears.

Swearing silently, he leapt from the bed and crossed to kneel at her side, unconcerned with his nudity. (She knew every inch of his body.) Reaching up, he cupped her face and caught the tear that spilled over her lashes.

“Everyone is counting on me to carry Ami safely through this pregnancy,” she said, “and I’m flying blind.”

“Tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you. Tell me how I can help you and I will.”

She shook her head. “Chris and Seth have already seen to it that I have all the books and equipment I need.”

“Then I’ll get you what you need beyond that.”

“You can’t. That’s just it.”

Bullshit. He could feel the worry and fear coursing through her. She was stressed as hell and he would do whatever it took to help her.

“All right. Tell me your top three concerns and we’ll see how to alleviate them.”

“Let’s start with the fact that I’ve never been pregnant myself and have never spent any time around pregnant women, so I don’t know what’s normal. The books only say so much. They say it isn’t uncommon for some women to experience cramping during pregnancy, but I’m not clear on how much. Is it constant or sporadic? Do they mean super mild, I’m ovulating cramping? Or moderate, I’m about to get my period cramping? Or full blown, where the hell are the painkillers cramping? How much is too much? How often is too often? When should I be concerned? How do I know what’s normal and what might be a result of difficulties that could arise from Ami’s being an alien, Marcus being an immortal, and the baby possibly being infected with the virus? Or from the difficulty women on her planet have carrying babies to term?”