“Hmm.” Stepping back, she nearly tripped over more crap on the floor.
Bastien darted forward and grabbed her arm to steady her.
“Thanks,” she said. And he felt the spark of attraction that whipped through her and sped her pulse at his touch despite her fading irritation. “I wonder if sparring might help Joe?”
Bastien and Cliff both turned toward the wall bordering Joe’s apartment when his voice floated through it.
“He’s willing to give it a try,” Bastien told her. “But only if he spars with me. He doesn’t want to risk sparring with Cliff.”
He didn’t have to state the obvious: Bastien was the only one of the two who would be able to stop him if the fight triggered an episode and Joe attacked in earnest.
“Seth and David might be willing to spar with him, too,” she said.
Joe nixed that one in short order. Hell, no. I don’t like those guys.
Bastien shook his head. “Joe doesn’t feel comfortable around them.”
The other vampire didn’t trust them. The violent outbursts may not be too bad yet, but the paranoia had kicked in fully. Joe told Bastien through the wall that he was afraid the two powerful healers were making his madness worse instead of trying to heal him when they visited. They’re trying to steal my thoughts. Taking my memories. Planting new ones. Fake ones.
Bastien eyed Cliff. “Is that what you think?”
Regret colored his youthful features. “No. But I am uncomfortable around them.”
Melanie bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Cliff. I’d ask them not to come anymore, but their healing sessions are helping you.”
No they’re not! Joe practically screeched in the next room. They’re just fucking with us!
A sick feeling sank into Sebastien’s gut. Joe was farther gone than he had realized.
He met Cliff ’s somber gaze. “How long has Joe . . . felt this way?” he asked, trying to word it in a way Joe might not fully grasp.
“A while.”
Melanie looked back and forth between them. “What way? What’s he saying?”
He felt her concern spike.
“Perhaps Seth and David should only treat Cliff from now on,” he suggested.
She stared up at him for a long moment.
He mouthed, Later.
She nodded. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
A dark pall blanketed them.
“Well . . .” she said, and Bastien felt her need to lighten the atmosphere and raise Cliff ’s spirits once more. “Cliff, why don’t I go get my laptop and you and I can order you some cool new furniture and a new flat-screen TV while Bastien cleans up this mess?”
As Bastien started to protest, Cliff laughed and said, “Sounds good to me.”
Closing his mouth, Bastien bent and picked up half a sofa arm.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Richart commented.
Melanie glanced at the French immortal sitting on her left.
He was fiddling with his cell phone, perhaps checking for messages from his lady love.
She looked to her right.
Bastien said nothing, just stared down at the mostly deserted college campus below.
The three of them sat on Davis Library’s roof, feet dangling over the edge. Not the front. The front was too well lit. They sat instead on one side, facing away from UNC’s campus-lighting corridor, in the shadows cast by trees that blocked the campus lights.
Melanie had been serious when she had told Bastien he was stuck with her. For millennia, immortals had believed no drug would affect them and had acted accordingly. In other words, with no concern for anything someone might try to dose them with. They thought themselves utterly impervious.
Emrys had demonstrated they were not with the tranquilizer he had manufactured to immobilize Ami during his torture and experimentation. But instead of viewing this as something of a wake-up call and thinking there might be other drugs out there now that could affect them, they seemed to assume Emrys’s sedative was the only one.
Melanie had proven them wrong again when the stimulant she had concocted had worked earlier tonight. Yet Bastien had still objected to her joining him and Richart on tonight’s hunt. He thought that, since he hadn’t keeled over from the stimulant when he had injected himself with it, he was fine. That there could be no lasting damage. No delayed side effects.
Melanie, however, wanted to be sure and had insisted.
When even Richart had expressed some doubt concerning the wisdom of her hunting with them, Melanie had dared to call Seth, who had backed her without hesitation.
Perhaps Bastien’s continued silence was a demonstration of his anger at her having gone over his head.
Hmm. Maybe Seth was one of the reasons Bastien was having such a hard time integrating himself into the Immortal Guardians’ ranks. The other immortals had always deferred to Seth and obeyed his will. He was the oldest among them and, thus, had more experience dealing with the challenges immortals and gifted ones had to face. He was also the most powerful immortal among them, able to kick anyone’s ass. Two, three, a dozen at a time. Though Melanie had heard that there was a pool going—had been for centuries—over who would win in a fight between Seth and David.
Melanie doubted anyone would ever know the answer to that one because the two men reputedly never argued.
“What’s wrong?” Richart continued. “Someone hurt your dainty feelings earlier?”
Again Bastien said nothing.
“Pouting because Seth now thinks you need two babysitters?” the handsome Frenchman taunted.
Nothing.
“Maybe your tussle with your vampire friend damaged your vocal chords.”
“Perhaps I’m just weary from my tussle with your girlfriend,” Bastien drawled.
Richart’s head snapped around. His eyes flashed a bright amber as his body tensed.
“Who do you think would win in a fight between Seth and David?” Melanie blurted. The two sat so close on either side of her that their arms brushed hers. She really didn’t want to be wedged between them when they broke into a brawl.
Richart frowned. “What?”
“Who do you think would win? Seth or David? I was thinking about tossing some money into the pool.” Not really, but who cared? The diversion seemed to be distracting Richart from whatever violence he had been contemplating.
“Seth,” Bastien said.
“Why?” Melanie pressed.
“Because I’ve seen him lose his temper.”
Richart’s eyes lost their glow and returned to a light brown. “You have?”
Bastien nodded, his gaze still searching the slumbering campus.
“What happened? What set him off?” Melanie asked. She had never heard of the Immortal Guardians’ leader losing control.
“I attacked Ami.”
“Merde!”
“What?”
Bastien glanced at her briefly from the corner of his eye. “It was an accident.”
Richart snorted. “You don’t accidentally attack someone.”
“I thought she was an immortal coming up behind me and just . . . reacted.”
Melanie was a little surprised he offered an explanation. Was it for her benefit? “So, what happened?” she asked.
“Seth lost it and . . .”
“What?” Richart pressed.
Bastien shook his head. “His castle nearly came crashing down around us. I’ve never seen such an exhibition of power. And the thing is . . . I think he was holding back. I think that was just a tiny hint of what he can really do.”
Richart muttered something in French.
“I really thought he was going to destroy me that night,” Bastien went on. “I still don’t know why he didn’t.”
Melanie looked at Richart. He seemed pretty impressed.
“You’ve never seen Seth lose his temper?” she asked.
“No. Never.”