“Thank you,” she said.
Étienne offered Seth his hand. “Yes. Thank you.”
Seth shook his hand and clapped him on the back, then vanished.
Étienne met Krysta’s gaze. “Looks like we have the go-ahead.”
She nodded. “I expected there to be more to it, too. I thought we’d have to plead our case or something.”
“Seth is an enigma.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Are you sure he’s an immortal?”
“Yes. Why?”
“His aura is different.”
“How so?”
Her gaze roved him. “Your aura is a combination of purple and white that swirls and mingles, but never blends.”
“Really? Is that different from vampires’ auras?”
She nodded. “Vampires’ auras are orange. Human auras vary according to health and mood. Auras of immortals and vampires don’t.”
“So how is Seth’s different?”
“There’s no purple. It’s just pure white. Almost blindingly white. It’s actually quite beautiful.”
Étienne frowned. “All immortals have purple in their auras except for Seth?”
“Yes.”
He pondered that a moment. He had never questioned it before. Seth had gifts like all of them. His eyes glowed when he was gripped by strong emotion like theirs did. He had fangs . . . didn’t he?
Now that he thought about it, Étienne couldn’t recall ever having seen any on the eldest immortal. “Does David’s aura contain purple?”
“Yes, but only a sliver. I thought he was like Seth at first, then saw the purple.”
“Perhaps it’s just an age thing.”
“I suppose so,” she conceded. “Roland has more white in his aura than you and Richart do.”
He relaxed. “That’s it, then. And, speaking of Roland, would you like me to go ahead and give him a call?”
“Yes, please.” She crossed to him and leaned into his side. “I still wish it could be you.”
He kissed her tempting lips. “Me, too.”
His call went straight to voice mail. “Roland, it’s Étienne. Give me a call when you receive this.” He started to put his phone away, then paused. “Let me try Sarah. Those two are rarely apart. Maybe Roland is just being his usual antisocial self and not answering because he doesn’t want to talk to anyone.” He dialed Sarah’s number.
“Hello?”
“Sarah?”
“Yes?”
“Hi. It’s Étienne.”
“Hi,” she said, with what sounded like false enthusiasm. “How’s it going?”
“Good. I’m trying to reach Roland. Is he there?”
“Um . . . no. He’s . . .” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s avoiding you.”
“I can hear you,” Roland said in the background.
“Damn it!”
Étienne frowned. “Why is he avoiding me?”
“He’s thinks you’re going to ask him to transform Krysta.”
“I am going to ask him to transform Krysta.”
Roland’s voice came over the phone. “Not going to happen.”
The line went dead.
Swearing, Étienne dialed her number again.
“Hello?” Sarah answered innocently, as though she didn’t know who was calling.
“Put him on,” Étienne said.
Roland let loose a stream of epithets in the background.
“I’m . . . not going to repeat that,” Sarah said.
“You don’t have to,” Étienne told her. “Look, I know he’s antisocial, but—”
“It isn’t just that,” she said, lowering her voice.
“Then what?”
“He found out that . . .”
“What?” he prodded.
She sighed. “The guys on theimmortalguardians.com website are calling him The Transformer. Like the robots.”
More foul epithets from Roland. “I will not be disrespected!”
“I’m sure they don’t mean it as an insult,” Étienne lied. Roland wasn’t a favorite amongst immortals because of his . . . personality and his tendency to terrorize any Seconds sent to serve him, so any gossip that concerned him on the website tended to be unflattering.
“Yes, they do,” she said. “I’m as furious as he is. Roland should be applauded for helping those he transformed, myself included, and the guys on the net are all being dicks about it.”
Étienne’s eyebrows flew up as Roland burst into laughter in the background.
“What?” Sarah demanded. “I can’t curse? It pisses me off.”
“I understand,” Étienne said, wondering how he could spin this and change Roland’s mind. “But I don’t think Krysta should have to—”
“I’m not doing it,” Roland insisted. “Three is my limit.”
“But—”
Rustling sounded.
“Roland,” Sarah warned, her voice fading, “don’t you dare smash my—”
The line went dead.
Étienne tucked his phone away. “Roland isn’t terribly enthusiastic about the idea.”
Stepping back, Krysta smiled and shrugged. “Then it’ll be you after all. Good.”
“Give me one more chance to win him over. Everyone has been sticking pretty close to David’s when they aren’t hunting. We can go by there later and see if I can’t change his mind.”
“Okay, but I don’t think you’re going to have any luck. Everyone I talk to says Roland is as stubborn as a mule.”
“And they’re right. But Seth and David will be there and might urge him along.”
“If you say so.”
“Maybe I’ll buy Sarah a new phone as a peace offering,” he mused.
“What happened to her old one?”
“I’m pretty sure Roland just destroyed it.”
“Yeah. Good luck changing his mind.”
“Come on, Roland,” Étienne urged. “Do it for me.”
Leaning against the bar that separated David’s dining room and kitchen, Roland crossed his arms over his chest. “And I owe you what?”
Richart, Jenna, Lisette, Tracy, Sheldon, and Cam formed a horseshoe around them. Ethan, Edward, Yuri, Stanislov, and their four Seconds stood just behind them and watched over their shoulders.
Étienne swore silently. “Then do it for Krysta.”
“And I owe her what?”
Patience fraying, Étienne gestured to Jenna and Richart. “You turned Jenna for Richart.”
“I turned Jenna because she’s my descendant.”
Cam looked at Jenna and Richart. “Is that why Richart keeps calling you Gramps?”
Roland glared daggers at Richart.
“How do you know Krysta isn’t your descendant?” Étienne asked. It was a stretch, but . . .
“Because I keep track of them,” Roland responded.
Sarah stood sentinel beside her husband and frowned at their audience. “You see? I told you he has a big heart. He’s been watching over them all this time.”
“Keeping track isn’t the same as watching over them,” Roland murmured.
Sarah elbowed him. “Give me my moment, honey. I’m defending you.”
He smiled.
“Roland,” Étienne said, “you must understand my position. I want Krysta to be as strong as possible so she’ll be as safe as possible.”
“I’m an Immortal Guardian,” Roland said, unmoved. “I hunt and destroy vampires. I am not a transformer.”
A few snickers sounded.
Étienne growled in frustration and dragged his hands through his hair.
Marcus smiled and shook his head as he looked at the immortals around him. “I told you not to fuck with him. What if you’re the next one who falls in love with a gifted one? Wouldn’t you want him to transform her, as Étienne does, so she would be stronger and safer? You all just screwed yourselves for a laugh.”