“Well, no. I knew that,” he said.
Mouth falling open, she stared at him in dismay. Hell. Did she have no secrets from him?
“You have many secrets from me.”
“Stop reading my thoughts!”
“I’m sorry. It’s just . . . you’re broadcasting them rather loudly at the moment and . . . There is no reason to feel embarrassed, Krysta.”
“Easy for you to say! You weren’t caught mentally checking out my package!”
A startled laugh escaped him before he hastily quelled it. “You’re attracted to me. I know that. But I’m attracted to you, too. I have been ever since the first night I saw you when you stumbled out of that damned frat house, pretending to be drunk, turned your face up to the sky, and seemed to look right at me.”
Her mind quieted. “Really?”
“Yes. And now I can’t read what you’re thinking at all, so if that offends you . . . Well, I won’t apologize for it. You’re a strong, beautiful woman who knows her way around a blade. I find that”—he drew in a deep breath as his eyes traveled over her with a heat that scorched her—“incredibly appealing. But I will apologize for whatever discomfort it causes you.”
How the hell was she supposed to respond to that?
Best to just change the subject and try not to broadcast her thoughts, whatever the hell that meant. “Tell me again how immortals differ from vampires.”
He did, beginning with gifted ones and blowing her mind. She and her brother and parents had always known they were different. But they hadn’t known why. They hadn’t realized they possessed advanced DNA.
And she hadn’t known that vampirism was caused by a virus.
“So the virus causes brain damage and madness in humans, but not in gifted ones?”
“Correct. Our advanced DNA protects us.”
“Where does the DNA come from?”
“We don’t know.”
Recalling all of the times she had been splattered with vampire blood, the time one had bitten her, and the long, wet kiss she had just shared with Étienne, she asked uneasily, “How contagious is this virus?”
He smiled. “Fleeting contact with it won’t transform you. A few drops of vampire blood mingling with yours in a wound won’t infect you. And you can’t get it from a kiss. Or from sex.”
That was nice to know for future reference.
“You can only be transformed in two ways: By having most of your blood drained, then being infused with the blood of a vampire or immortal. Or by being fed from and exposed to the virus in small amounts repeatedly.” He frowned. “Have you ever been bitten by the vampires you hunt?” The idea seemed to upset him.
“Only once.” And it hadn’t been a vamp she had been hunting.
Darkness swept his visage as his brown eyes flashed bright amber once more. “Describe the vampire who bit you.”
Why should it thrill her that he wanted to hunt down the vamp who had sunk his filthy fangs into her?
“No need,” she assured him. “I killed him myself.”
A slow smile lit his face as he wagged his head back and forth.
“What?” she asked.
“I like you more with every tidbit I learn about you.”
She smiled. “You’re pretty likable yourself.”
“Now that you know I’m not a vampire?”
“You were likable even as a vampire. It was very annoying.”
He laughed, flashing those pearly fangs.
If he was infected with the same virus that vampires were, then he must need blood. She had even seen his brother bite his wrist and infuse him with her own eyes. “If you hunt vampires who prey upon humans, does that mean you don’t . . .”
“Kill humans myself?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t wanted to ask, in part because she wasn’t sure she would like his answer.
“I don’t feed from humans or prey upon them as vampires do. But, as you saw tonight, I will kill any human who threatens me or mine.”
Which had it been tonight, she wondered, me or mine? Then called herself a fool. “But, you do need blood?”
“Yes. I assume Richart gave me blood while I was unconscious?”
She nodded. “He, ah, bit your wrist and fed you or whatever.”
“Normally we receive sustenance from blood bags. The humans who work with us also donate blood regularly, so we don’t feed directly from humans unless extreme circumstances drive us to do so.”
Drinking blood. Gross.
“We don’t drink the blood,” he said. “Our fangs carry it straight to our veins.”
Right. That’s what Richart had said. “Are you reading my thoughts again?”
“No. Your face sort of scrunched up with disgust.”
“Oh. Sorry about that.” It wasn’t his fault he needed blood.
He smiled.
Damn, he was handsome when he smiled.
Hell, he was handsome when he didn’t.
Étienne leaned forward a bit. “Listen, about the humans who aid us . . .”
It was so weird, hearing that there were other humans out there who knew about all of this. “Yes?”
“Their top priority is to protect us, to protect immortals, or Immortal Guardians as they call us.”
Wasn’t that sort of backward? The weaker mortals protecting the powerful immortals? “They protect you?”
“Yes. They have a vested interest in doing so. After all, we’re the only thing keeping vampires from slaughtering humans unchecked. And we’ve been fighting to protect humans for millennia. So, the network—”
“The network?”
“That’s what we call the organization of humans who aid us. The network not only provides us with blood, it protects our identities and keeps the general public from finding out that vampires, immortals, and gifted ones exist. Our ability to hunt and destroy vampires would be severely inhibited, if not halted altogether, if mankind learned about us and began to hunt us.”
“But wouldn’t they help you if they knew? Why would you think they would . . . ?” A sickening dread soured her stomach as she recalled the way those soldiers had gone after Étienne earlier. “Is that what happened at Duke? Humans found out about you?”
He nodded. “We dealt with another such threat recently, but quashed it. I’m certain we quashed it. The attack tonight should not have happened. Should not even be possible. No mortals outside of the network should know about us.”
“Except, those solders did. And . . .” Oh, crap. “I do.”
“Precisely.” He shifted the arm resting on the back of the futon and cupped her shoulder in his large hand. The warmth of it still caught her off guard. She had assumed vampires—and immortals now that she knew about them—would be cold to the touch.
“The network is going to want to talk to you,” he told her somberly. And the concern on his face made her nervous. She had thought vampires were the biggest threat to her. His face said something different.
“You say talk,” she voiced. “I hear interrogate and make disappear.”
“It won’t be like that.”
“Are you sure? Because you look worried.”
“I’m not worried.” He looked away, muttered something in French, then turned back to her. “All right. I won’t lie to you. I am worried. The head of the East Coast division of the human network can be ruthless when it comes to protecting us from perceived mortal threats.”
Alarm rose. “You aren’t reassuring me. Are you saying I should run? That we should run? Because Sean knows about this, too.”