Well, maybe Seth. That bastard seemed to know almost everything. Very annoying.
No one called a welcome when Bastien closed the door behind himself. The French immortals—Étienne, Richart, and Lisette—lounged on a couple of sofas along with Richart’s wife, Jenna, watching some movie with a lot of explosions while they snacked on pita chips.
Lisette barely spared him a glance. Richart nodded. Jenna sent him a tentative smile. Étienne didn’t even seem to notice his presence. Tracy, Lisette’s Second, was on the other side of the living room flirting with a human Bastien thought might be Ethan’s Second. Bastien knew neither the American immortal nor his Second well. Sheldon, Richart’s Second, entered from the kitchen, carrying a pizza the size of a fucking big rig wheel.
When he caught sight of Bastien, he reverse-nodded. “’Sup?” He stopped short. “Dude. What’s the deal with your coat? It’s moving.”
“Is David here?” Bastien asked, offering no explanation.
His eyes fastened on Bastien’s coat pockets, Sheldon said, “Yeah, he’s in his study.”
Bastien strode toward the darkened hallway. “Thank you.”
As he reached the entrance to David’s study, he heard Sheldon murmur to Richart, “I think something’s wrong with Bastien. He just thanked me.”
A sigh escaped him. That was Melanie’s influence.
Seated at his massive desk, David perused what Bastien assumed was another medical text. As usual, his long dreadlocks were pulled back with a leather tie.
“Got a minute?” Bastien asked.
The elder immortal raised his head—and his eyebrows—at the polite query and motioned for him to enter.
Bastien stepped inside and closed the door behind him, not that it did much good. Unless they were closeted in one of the quiet rooms, any immortal in the house could hear their conversation.
David was the second eldest immortal in the world and wielded incredible strength and power. Unlike younger immortals, who had only one or two gifts, David possessed several. He was such a powerful healer that he could reattach severed limbs. He could shape-shift, something most of them hadn’t realized until the last big battle they had engaged in with Emrys’s mercenaries. He could also hurl Bastien across the room with a thought. So, though he was perhaps the most even-tempered immortal, it was nevertheless wise not to cross or anger him.
Bastien had never felt comfortable around David. Melanie didn’t understand why, but it was the same reason she puzzled him herself. David had always been kind to Bastien, welcoming him into his home and defending him when the other immortals had all called for his execution. He had behaved casually and almost like a brother toward Bastien since the moment the two had met.
Bastien didn’t understand it.
“Those had better not be for me,” David warned as Bastien approached his desk.
“Actually, they are.”
“Are you off your nut?”
Bastien laughed. “No. Read my mind so we can talk without the others listening.”
“All right.”
Can you hear me? Bastien asked mentally. He wasn’t telepathic himself and could only hear the elder’s thoughts if David spoke them in Bastien’s head.
One moment. Lisette?
There was a pause. Yes?
Close your mind to us.
Bastien hadn’t thought of that. He still wasn’t used to being around the telepaths.
Done, she responded grudgingly.
Étienne?
Nothing.
Étienne, close your mind to us.
Still nothing.
Étienne!
What? Why’d you elbow me?
Because David is speaking to you, Lisette said. And I only knew that, David, because you were projecting it. I’m out.
Who did what now? Étienne asked.
Never mind, David told him, then met Bastien’s gaze. He’s distracted and won’t hear us. Go ahead.
Reaching into his pockets, Bastien began to withdraw the motherless kittens he had found earlier. They were tiny, eyes barely open, and clumsily scrambled toward each other on David’s desk, forming a squirming, furry pile. I thought these would buy us some time.
David frowned, but couldn’t resist picking up one of the kittens and stroking it. The white and orange fur stood out starkly next to the elder immortal’s black as midnight skin.
Buy us time or consume our time? he queried. These need frequent feeding. Where is their mother?
Hit by a car. And, yes, they need feeding. Every two hours, I think, which will be a pain in the ass. But . . . listen.
The kittens began to mew as they vied for position in the pile. Beneath those sounds . . .
Heartbeats, David said as understanding dawned.
Until you decide what to tell the others about Ami’s pregnancy, this will help conceal it from them. With these little guys roaming the house, anyone who hears the baby’s heartbeat will assume it’s a kitten’s. Hell, who here has spent enough time around a pregnant woman since transforming to tell the difference?
True. David set the kitten down next to its brothers and sisters, then picked up a black and white one. Smart thinking. He smiled when the kitten clumsily walked up his arm and sank its claws into one of his long dreadlocks. He caught it before it became too entangled and held it up before his face. He’s cute, isn’t he?
Bastien smiled. Yeah. I dropped by the pet store and bought cat milk, bottles, and everything else we’ll need. It’s in my car.
Get it and meet me in the living room.
Bastien went to the car and retrieved a large bag of essentials, some of which he was pretty sure weren’t essentials, but the saleslady had been nice and hadn’t shied away from him the way so many humans did. When he returned to the house, David was just entering the living room with all six kittens cradled in his large hands.
The television shut off.
“Hey!” several protested and turned toward him.
“What the hell is that?” Sheldon asked, staring at the kittens.
“Your new assignments.”
Krysta’s nerves jangled as she strolled through the quiet college campus, adding a stagger here and there for show.
She had hunted every night for the past two weeks with nothing to show for it. No vampire attacks. No vampire deaths. No glimpses of the mysterious . . . other. The vampire who had saved her ass.
Why was his aura so different? He clearly was a vampire. Same fangs. Same glowing eyes. Same incredible speed and strength. Just no orange aura.
An owl hooted.
Why had he helped her?
What was his agenda?
And why hadn’t she seen him again?
A nice breeze blew her hair back from her face.
She was beginning to suspect he had been following her each night as she hunted.
Not just following her. Protecting her.
The notion was insane. As insane as the vampires she loathed so much. And yet, there had been moments when she would have sworn she had drawn out some vampires, just as she had the night she had met Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hot.
He isn’t hot.
Yes, he is.
Damn it, he is.
Some nights, she had heard faint footsteps behind her and caught glimpses of shadows stalking her. Shadows with flowing orange auras. She had continued her helpless, drunken student act until she was sure, then had turned down this street, into that alley, and . . .