Zach started to rise, but found he couldn’t.
Seth held him in place telekinetically, his power a frightening and tangible force. “Only you or an Immortal Guardian could have done it. And my immortals wouldn’t betray me. Just tell me why you did it.”
Zach shook his head. “Your problem, Seth,” he gasped, “has always been . . . that you think yourself . . . invulnerable. Is it . . . so hard for you to believe . . . that one of your precious . . . Immortal Guardians might have betrayed you?”
“You deny it was you?”
“I deny nothing,” he snarled, his own fury now matching Seth’s.
“So be it.”
The blizzard resumed, wind whipping Seth’s long hair.
So quickly he appeared to vanish for a moment, Seth drew a dagger and—kneeling—plunged the blade into Zach’s chest an inch from his heart.
Pain shrieked through him.
Seth leaned in close and turned the blade, heightening Zach’s suffering. “Listen closely, Cousin. This is but a tiny fraction of the power I wield. Betray me again, endanger my Immortal Guardian family again, and I will destroy you. If the Others don’t like it and choose to confront me, they will meet the same fate.”
He rose while Zach struggled for breath.
“Stay away from Ami. Stay away from Lisette. Stay away from all of us.” He shook his head, his face full of scorn as his glowing gaze raked Zach. “What a fucking disappointment.”
He vanished.
The pressure holding Zach in place fell away.
Raising a shaking hand, Zach grasped the handle of the dagger and slowly pulled it from his chest.
It fell to the ground, staining the ice red.
He tried to teleport and found he couldn’t. Seth had done something to drain his powers.
Gritting his teeth, he sat up with a growl of agony and dragged his wings with him.
A shiver shook him.
He glanced around at the frozen landscape.
No structure or shelter in sight.
For the next several hours, until his broken wings healed enough to carry him home, Zach’s only company would be the anger festering inside him.
That and the satisfaction of knowing he wasn’t the one who had betrayed Seth.
Apparently, somewhere out there, an Immortal Guardian was plotting to take down his or her illustrious leader.
Étienne stared at Krysta’s mother and felt warmth fill him, easing some of his anxiety.
Opening the door wide, she waved them inside.
She was smaller than her daughter, standing no taller than five feet. Same slender build with slightly wider hips conservatively clothed in a floral-print dress. Shoulder-length, brown hair streaked with gray framed a friendly face that was the spitting image of Krysta’s, only hers bore faint laugh lines.
“Honey!” she called over her shoulder, “they’re here!” She hugged Krysta and Sean as a man, who was at least as tall as Étienne, joined them.
He, too, bore an athletic build, garbed in slacks and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back. His black hair was cut short and showed gray at the temples. His expression was welcoming.
Smiling, he waited for his wife to get her hugs in, then claimed his own.
Krysta gave him a hearty embrace, then stepped back and took Étienne’s hand. “Mom, Dad, this is Étienne d’Alençon. Étienne, these are my parents, Evelyn and Martin Linz.”
Her mother smiled up at him. “Call me Evie.”
When she offered her hand, he took it and brought it to his lips. “A pleasure to meet you, Evie.” He offered his hand to Krysta’s father. “And you as well, Mr. Linz.”
“Call me Martin. Nice to meet you, Étienne.”
Étienne’s mind went blank. Two hundred plus years old and he found himself tongue-tied in the face of his fiancée’s parents.
Not surprising. He hadn’t formally courted a woman since his transformation.
Evie grinned up at her husband. “He reminds me of you, honey. So handsome.”
Heat stole up his neck.
Krysta’s eyes widened. “Are you blushing?”
“No,” he denied swiftly, sparking laughs.
Evie motioned for them to continue through the living room and into the den. “Come in and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
Martin smiled. “Can I get you something to drink, Étienne?”
“Yes, please. Whatever you’re having.”
Krysta raised her brows. It won’t relax you. Alcohol has no affect on us, she reminded him as Martin crossed to a small bar in one corner and poured them both a Scotch.
I thought refusing would seem odd, Étienne said. And I want to appear as human as possible.
“Krysta, do you want anything?” Martin asked.
“No, thanks, Dad.”
“Sean?”
“No, thanks.”
Martin returned and handed Étienne a glass.
Étienne ignored the urge to down it in one gulp and, instead, sipped it slowly.
Martin sipped his own, moving to stand beside his wife. “So. Should we assume by your presence here tonight that it’s all over?” he asked them.
Étienne looked at Krysta, not knowing what he meant.
She seemed just as confused. “All what?”
He motioned to the front of the house. “Whatever inspired you to station guards around the property.”
Étienne froze.
Krysta gaped. “You knew about that?”
They nodded.
“How?”
“Honey,” Evie said gently, “you know I have strong empathic abilities. I could sense them out there.”
Merde. How were they going to explain that?
“I can’t tell you how hard it was,” Evie added, “for me to refrain from taking them some sandwiches or soda or something to help them through the long, boring hours, but they didn’t seem to want us to know they were there.”
“Uh-huh,” Krysta muttered, apparently as at a loss as Étienne.
“So? What happened?”
Krysta swallowed audibly. “There was . . . a . . . uh . . .”
“Stalker,” Étienne blurted. “Krysta acquired an Internet stalker who lost his head over her beauty and cleverness and we feared he might harm you in his desire to get to her.”
Krysta sent him a relieved smile, then nodded somberly.
Sean pursed his lips and watched his parents.
Martin looked down at Evie. “I like him. He thinks fast on his feet.”
She nodded.
They knew he was bullshitting?
Hoping Krysta wouldn’t kick his ass later, Étienne did what he had sworn he wouldn’t do tonight and read her parents’ minds. He had intended to let them get to know him the regular way without peeking into their thoughts and using whatever he found there to manipulate them into liking him. But he needed to know what it was they thought they knew.
Evie proved to be as difficult to read as her daughter. But Martin . . .
Étienne sucked in a breath.
“What?” Krysta asked.
“They know.”
“Know what?”
“Everything.”
“About us? What, are you reading their minds?”
“Yes.”
She turned to her mother. “You know we’re engaged?”
Evie’s eyes widened. “You’re engaged?” Squealing, she yanked Krysta into a hug and jumped up and down. “My baby’s engaged! Congratulations! We just thought you were lovers.”
Sean laughed.
Étienne kept his eyes on their father.
Martin knew everything. He knew Krysta had spent the last six years hunting vampires, something she thought she had successfully kept from them. He knew Sean had helped her. He knew Étienne had saved her ass. More than once. He knew they had been battling soldiers. And he knew Étienne was immortal.