Blood spattered his face.
Bastien sighed and swiped his sleeve across it.
The vampire fruitlessly tried to stave off the inevitable, sank to his knees, and keeled over.
Bastien cleaned his blade on the guy’s Dead Kennedys T-shirt, then turned to Stuart.
Stuart’s eyes were almost as big as his face. Spinning around, he bolted into the trees.
Richart vanished and appeared in front of the vamp, who dropped several F-bombs as he rebounded off the immortal.
“I wasn’t with them,” he blurted as he rubbed his forehead and turned to face Bastien. “I mean, they weren’t with me.”
Bastien strolled over to join them. “Who were they, then?”
Richart removed a handkerchief from an inner pocket of his coat and began to wipe the blood from his blades.
“I don’t know,” Stuart said, his expression frantic. “You weren’t here last night—”
“Something came up.”
“Or someone,” Richart muttered.
Bastien nodded. “We had to take care of some of those human mercenaries we told you about.”
Stuart looked back and forth between them. “At Duke?”
“No. UNC. Why?” Stuart wasn’t already in cahoots with Emrys, was he?
“There were some humans at Duke last night. They looked like SWAT or military or some shit. They were dressed in dark fatigues and were armed out the ass.”
Bastien looked at Richart. “You saw them or you heard a rumor?”
“I saw them. I was there with this guy I hang out with. Another vampire. We fed on—”
Richart scowled.
“I mean we, ah . . .”
“Just go on,” Bastien instructed.
“We fed on these two guys who were geeking out over some phone app on their way to the parking lot, but we didn’t kill them. I swear.”
“Just tell us about the men you saw.”
“We propped the dweebs against their car and were leaving when all of a sudden Paul jerked a couple of times and stopped walking. Someone fucking shot him, man. And they must have hit an artery or something because blood started gushing from his chest. Then his eyes rolled around in his head and he just sort of collapsed, like his legs stopped working, and I saw a dart sticking out of his neck. Guys in dark fatigues rushed out from behind the closest building and . . .” He shook his head. “I took off running.”
“You left . . . Paul, was it?”
“Paul was already starting to shrivel up. I didn’t stick around to see if it was the bullets or the dart that killed him. I was scared.”
At least the mercenaries hadn’t been able to take one alive. By the time the virus had finished fighting for survival, there wouldn’t have been anything left of the body that had formerly housed it to study. “So you got away?”
“Yeah, but not before the fuckers hit me with one of those darts.” Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a dart that looked identical to the ones that had incapacitated Bastien a couple of nights earlier.
Richart took a step forward. “If you were hit with this dart, how did you get away?”
Stuart shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Bastien gripped the boy’s arm.
“Dude. What are you—?”
“Just tell us how you got away.”
“I don’t know,” he insisted, eyes straying to the swords Richart had not yet sheathed. “It must not have knocked me out instantly. Maybe because I wasn’t bleeding out like Paul was. Or maybe I was at full speed when it hit me and just managed to get far enough away before I passed out that they couldn’t find me, ’cause the last thing I remember is haulin’ ass to get out of there. Then I woke up at sunset in a damn garden shed in someone’s backyard not far from campus.”
Bastien met Richart’s doubtful gaze. “According to my gift, he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t remember.”
“What gift?” Stuart asked.
“I can feel your emotions,” Bastien said.
Stuart swallowed and pulled away. “Really?”
“Yes.” He looked at Richart. “He seems to be telling the truth.”
Richart’s brow remained furrowed as he motioned to the decomposing corpses. “So, who were those vamps?”
“I don’t know. They just showed up while I was waiting to see if Bastien would come tonight. I didn’t want to stick around—I could tell those guys were real manic motherfuckers—but . . . I don’t want to end up like that. Paul and I don’t . . . didn’t kill the people we fed on. Those guys—the ones you destroyed—did. And liked it. They were bragging about the chicks they fucked up earlier before you arrived. That and talking some crap about kicking your ass for betraying all vampires.”
Richart put away his swords. “So you’ve decided to take Bastien up on his offer? You’re willing to join forces with the Immortal Guardians?”
“You guys aren’t gonna kill me, are you?”
“No,” Bastien promised. He didn’t add, not unless you give us reason to.
“Then . . . yeah. Those guys last night . . . I-I think they would’ve done what you said they would if they caught me. I think they would have tortured me. I think they would have used me as a lab rat. You . . . you guys aren’t gonna do that, right?”
“No,” Bastien said. “The vampires who have already joined us periodically donate blood and undergo CT scans and other routine medical tests because they want to help our doctors and scientists find a cure for the virus or a way to treat it. We would appreciate it if you would do the same, but we won’t require it.”
Stuart nodded, a nervous, jerky movement. “Yeah. Sure. I can . . . I can donate blood and stuff. I did that once when my ex’s sorority sponsored a blood drive.”
“Excellent. Then we have an accord.” Bastien offered him his hand.
Stuart hesitated only a moment, then grasped it. Richart shook his hand next while Bastien retrieved his phone and dialed.
“Melanie?”
“Hi. How’d it go? Are you okay?”
His pulse jumped. Yeah. He was falling in love with her. And Richart knew it, damn it, because the other immortal could hear Bastien’s heart racing. “It went well. We’re bringing in a recruit. Stuart agreed to join us.”
“Great! I’ll tell Mr. Reordon.”
“Where should Richart bring him?”
Stuart took a step forward. “You’re coming, too, right?” “Richart will come back for me.”
“No. I don’t want to go unless you go, too.”
Bastien looked to Richart. “Can you take us both?”
Richart eyed the jittery vamp and must have drawn the same conclusion Bastien had. “Yes.”
“Richart is going to bring us both.”
“Okay. Why not bring him to my office. He might be more comfortable if it’s just us at first.”
“Thank you. We’ll do that.”
“Okay. See you soon. And, Stuart, I know you’re listening, so . . . I just wanted to say I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
Stuart looked flabbergasted. “Um. Okay. Thanks.”
“Bye, Bastien.”
Bastien ended the call.
Stuart shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Was that the chick I fought the other night?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. She seems really nice.”
“She is,” Bastien confirmed.
Richart swore. “I just remembered Lisette is patrolling Duke tonight.”
“Who’s Lisette?” Stuart asked.
“His sister,” Bastien explained, then told Richart, “You should warn her.”