Seth thanked them for their discretion and for forgiving his deception. (It had been Seth who had told them all Ami was a gifted one.) He then wished them all happy hunting.
Every immortal present, save Seth and David, hugged Marcus and Ami and congratulated them before seeking out their Seconds.
Étienne hugged Ami, then Marcus, slapping him on the back.
Krysta smiled down at Ami. “Are you having any weird cravings? Can we pick something up for you while we’re out hunting?”
Étienne’s chest swelled with what he could no longer deny was love for her.
Ami smiled and shook her head. “I’ve really been having a hard time keeping anything down. Anything but lollipops, that is. They seem to be the only sweets I can tolerate.”
“Lollipops it is,” Krysta promised with a smile.
Étienne and Krysta moved away as Jenna hugged Ami and started to chat her up.
“When do you want me to transform you?” he asked as they sought out Cam to let him know they were leaving.
“Tonight?” she asked hopefully.
He nodded. “Let’s let David know before we leave.”
A few minutes later, calling good hunting to those within, Étienne and Krysta stepped out into the night. As they crossed to his car, Étienne glimpsed Roland and Marcus within the shadows of the forest that surrounded the drive.
Roland dragged Marcus into a rough hug.
Marcus’s hands clenched into fists on Roland’s back, knuckles showing white. His mind was full of what-ifs. And all were terrifying.
Roland’s mind was full of the same, along with a heavy dose of concern for his friend and . . . guilt. Roland was keeping something from him.
Étienne frowned. Who the hell was Zach? And what did he have to do with Ami and Lisette?
“Where do you want to hunt tonight?” Krysta asked, unaware that they weren’t alone.
Étienne hastily looked away from the duo before Roland could catch him staring. Opening the car door, he waited for Krysta to slide inside. “Let’s try UNCG.” Lisette had been hunting there of late.
“Okay. Let’s pick up Ami’s lollipops on the way so we won’t forget.”
“Sure.” He closed the door. Strolling around to the driver’s side, he glanced at the forest and discovered the elder immortals were gone.
They only encountered three vampires that night. All were insane. So all were destroyed.
Étienne was unharmed in the brief battle. Krysta barely earned a scratch. Yet they both bore their fair share of bloodstains when they returned to David’s home and claimed what Étienne called a quiet room in the basement.
“What’s a quiet room?” she asked, checking it out.
“A room that has been so thoroughly soundproofed that the other immortals in the house won’t be able to hear anything that transpires within it.”
Good to know.
“So. How are we going to do this?” Krysta asked, beginning to feel a bit anxious now that the time of her transformation was at hand. Guilty, too, because she hadn’t told Sean of their plans for fear he would spend hours trying to talk her out of it.
“Let’s wash the blood and sweat off first,” Étienne suggested and peeled off his coat.
“Sounds good to me.” Krysta removed her own coat.
Minutes passed as they disarmed.
She grinned and shook her head as the pile of weapons they stacked on the nearby love seat grew. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
He winked. “Perfect for each other.”
She agreed wholeheartedly.
Her breath caught as he drew his shirt over his head.
All that muscle . . .
His long fingers dropped to the zipper of his pants.
Krysta hurriedly yanked her own shirt over her head so she wouldn’t miss anything.
He slid the zipper down. Tucking his thumbs in the waistband, he peeled off the pants and his boxers and kicked them aside.
Her heart beat faster.
He was already hard.
“Waiting for anything in particular?” he asked innocently.
Grinning, she pulled her sports bra off and let it fall to the floor. “Have I mentioned how much I love it when your eyes glow?”
“No,” he murmured, his luminous amber gaze devouring her as she unfastened her pants and slid them down to her ankles, along with her bikini panties. “Damn, you tempt me.”
Good. Because she couldn’t wait to feel him inside her again.
Groaning, he closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and strode into the bathroom.
As she followed him, she heard the faucet give a faint squeak. Steam poured from the shower as she entered the sleek room.
Immortal Guardians must have a thing for bathrooms, because this one, like those in Étienne’s home, was as gorgeous as a millionaire’s spa.
Tugging the elastic band from the end of her braid, she untwined her hair and finger-combed it while she admired Étienne’s gorgeous form.
He held his hand out to her.
Smiling in anticipation, she took it and stepped into the granite-tiled shower more than big enough for two.
Steam encapsulated and caressed them as he slid the glass door closed. Drawing her up against him, Étienne stepped back into the fountain of water and let it flow over them like hands.
Krysta touched his shoulders, drew her fingers down his slick chest as he tilted his head back.
Water turned his hair into a sleek, black cap, straight and soft and shiny against his handsome face. Reversing their positions, he settled his hands low on her spine.
Krysta arched her back and reached up to run her fingers through her hair as the warm water swiftly saturated it.
Étienne pressed his hips into hers, sliding his hard cock between her parted thighs and sending shocks of pleasure through her.
Her breath caught. She lowered her chin and met his gaze.
“You’re so beautiful, Krysta.”
Abandoning her hair, she gripped his biceps. “So are you.”
He leaned closer.
Anticipation rose as she focused on his lips.
He drew back, a bar of soap and two washcloths in his hand.
Had he just been reaching past her?
“Tease,” she grumbled as he stepped back, breaking all contact.
He laughed. But that glowing gaze continued to roam her as he lathered up one of the cloths and handed it to her.
Krysta took it and began to vigorously scrub one arm, removing splotches of blood as she watched him lather up the other cloth and return the soap to the dish behind her.
“Slower,” he instructed, voice silky smooth.
She paused.
Étienne kept his eyes on Krysta, focusing on her exquisite, expressive face as he drew his soapy cloth down one arm in long, leisurely strokes, then up again.
Hunger flared in her gaze as she watched the motion, then mimicked it herself, slowing her movements to sensual strokes.
He smiled, hard and aching and loving the suspense, loving having to wait, loving making her wait, knowing how explosive it would be when they finally joined.
He drew the cloth down over his other arm.
Krysta did the same.
He slid it down his side, over his hip and down one leg.
Krysta continued to follow his lead, her gaze frequently skipping to the erection that strained toward her.
Up one leg, then down the other. Then back up the leg and his other side. He slid the cloth over his chest, dragging the material over his nipples and imagining it was her hands.
Krysta did the same, gasping and biting her lip.
He dropped his cloth. She dropped hers and took a step toward him.
Étienne shook his head. “Not yet.”
She stopped and stared as he slid his soapy hands over his chest. Then she cupped her breasts in soapy hands and squeezed them with a moan.