She chewed her lower lip. “I don’t want to endanger you, Étienne.”
“You won’t.”
“I already have. I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me again.”
“At the risk of angering you, in this instance I don’t care what you want. If hunting endangers your life, I will do whatever it takes to protect you.” He rested a hand on her lower back and urged her toward the door.
He loved touching her. Even casually. And he loved that she let him.
“Now,” he said while she pondered his words, “you’ve already donned hunting clothes. And filched some of the weapons my sister left in her room. Before we embark on the night’s hunt, you may have your pick of the weapons in my armory.”
“We’re hunting tonight?”
“If you’re up to it.”
At last he won a faint smile from her. “I don’t know. What if you don’t have all of the weapons I need?”
He grinned. “I’m sure we can find something.”
A minute later his smile broadened as Krysta surveyed, with wide eyes and gaping mouth, the vast array of weaponry in his armory.
“Ho-ly crap!” she breathed.
Étienne laughed. “Think you can make do?”
“Uh . . . yeah. But it may take me several hours to choose.”
It was quite a selection. He usually kept on hand enough swords of varying lengths and styles, daggers, throwing stars, and more to outfit himself, his brother, his sister, and their three Seconds on any given night. With some left over for immortal visitors.
She strolled around the room, studying the blades displayed on the walls. “Could I just say holy crap again?”
Again he laughed. “This is only the portion of my collection that I keep in this home.”
She looked at him curiously. “You have others?”
He nodded. “In various countries. Many immortals own multiple homes. When we’ve been stationed in one place for long periods of time, it’s sometimes hard to move on and abandon what we’ve built there.”
She stopped before a pair of red-handled shoto swords. “May I?”
He smiled. “Be my guest.”
She drew one down and slid it from its gleaming sheath. “It’s beautiful.”
“My sister’s weapon of choice. Though, since the vampire population in this area has swelled, she has also begun to carry a couple of Glocks.” He closed the distance between them. “Here.” He reached for the sword. “Let me serve as your Second tonight.”
While she stood patiently before him, her eyes never leaving his face, he armed her with all of the weapons he knew she preferred to carry. Shoto swords in sheaths she could conceal beneath a coat. Daggers, in case she was disarmed.
His heartbeat picked up as he knelt and fastened sheaths to her slender thighs. Rising, he moved even closer to her (just because) and unfastened the belt that rode low on her hips and fell beneath her belly button.
Her pulse picked up, mirroring his own.
Slowly, he drew the belt from the first couple of loops on her cargo pants. Once the end was free, he slipped a gun holster onto it, then began threading the belt back through the loops. As he refastened it, he drew in a deep breath and savored her scent.
“I’m not really a gun kind of girl,” she whispered, leaning forward to nuzzle his throat.
His body hardened.
“Tonight you will be,” he murmured gruffly, fingers fumbling with the narrow buckle. “I want you to carry a tranquilizer pistol.”
She leaned back. “You want me to tranq the vampires?”
“Those I deem salvageable. I don’t suppose I could talk you into carrying a Glock as well, could I? In case we come up against more mercenaries?”
She frowned. “I’m afraid the extra holsters and weight of the ammo will restrict my movements.”
“I’ll carry it for you and toss it to you should the need arise,” he offered.
“Okay.”
He gave the belt one last tug, then hesitantly withdrew his hands. “You do know how to use it, don’t you?”
She snorted. “Of course.”
Even her confidence turned him on. “I do so love strong women.”
“Your eyes are glowing,” she commented softly.
“I want you.”
“You do?”
He nodded. Dipping his head, Étienne captured her lips with his own, pouring all of the passion he felt for her into the contact. As it had before, the brush of her lips struck him like lightning, firing his desire like no other ever had. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her up against him.
Breath catching, she rose onto her toes and slid her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest, her hips to his arousal.
He swore silently when she tore her lips from his.
“I want you, too,” she admitted.
He groaned and kissed her again, teasing her lips apart and sliding his tongue within to stroke and dance with hers.
“Whoa!” Cam blurted.
Étienne had been so distracted, he hadn’t even heard his Second approach.
“Ah, hell,” Sean said. “I knew it! I knew she was falling for him!”
Krysta dropped onto her heels, her lips abruptly leaving his.
He tightened his hold momentarily before letting her go with a sigh.
Cam stared at him as Krysta took a couple of steps back and sheepishly met her brother’s unsettled gaze.
“What?” Étienne demanded irritably.
“Nothing,” Cam responded. “Just . . . I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Krysta frowned. “We were just kissing. It’s not like you walked in on us having sex.”
Étienne fought back another groan. Don’t put that image in my head. I’ll be hard all night.
She tossed him a startled look, then grinned. Nice.
He shook his head. Not when we’re fighting vampires, it isn’t.
She laughed.
“Hey, don’t knock it,” Cam told Krysta, pointing at Étienne. “Kissing is big for this guy. He hasn’t been on a single date since I started serving as his Second.”
“Really? How long have you been his Second?”
“About as long as you’ve been hunting vampires.”
She winked at Étienne. “Cool.”
Damned if that didn’t make him want her even more.
Shaking his head, he motioned for the door. “Let’s get out of here before I do something that will embarrass you in front of your brother.”
Sean held up a hand, alarm crossing his features. “Wait. You’re just going hunting, right?”
Krysta rolled her eyes. “No, we’re going to park in Lovers’ Lane and spend the next several hours making out. Of course, we’re going hunting.” She headed past the duo and out into the hallway.
Cam raised his eyebrows as Étienne approached. “You have everything you need?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll be here if you need us.”
Étienne followed Krysta down the hallway and out the front door. “Relax,” he heard Cam say inside. “Étienne is a good guy. You can trust him.”
Cam was a good guy, too. Steady. Somber. Reliable. (Unlike Sheldon, who was still learning and could be a handful.)
Étienne’s last Second had been killed in a car accident. Étienne hadn’t been able to believe it at the time. The man had survived twenty-five years of backing up an immortal who hunted vampires for a living, then had died because some dumbass had been too busy texting to stop for a red light.
“So,” Krysta said, skipping down the front steps, “how are we going to do this? Do you pick the campus we investigate or do I and how will we get there?”