“
Gifted ones
,” she parroted. Other than her brother and her parents, she had never met another
gifted one
before.
“My brother,” Étienne continued, “was born with the ability to teleport. Yours was born with the ability to heal with his hands.”
“How do you know that?”
“I followed you home that first night and watched him heal the worst of your wounds with a touch.”
“What, like through the window?” she demanded. What the hell else had he watched, the perve.
His face creased with a disgruntled frown. “Yes, but I’m not a perv. I didn’t watch you shower or anything. I just needed to know who you were. You tried to kill me, remember, and thought me one of the vampires you hunt.”
She frowned. He had kind of nailed the
perv
thing right on the head. How had he known what she was thinking? Her face wasn’t
that
expressive, was it?
“My sister and I were both born with the ability to read others’ thoughts,” he admitted.
Her mind went blank, then filled with a maelstrom of reactions and concerns and freak-outs.
He could read her thoughts? He had been reading them all along?
Fury, alarm, and a ridiculous feeling of betrayal barreled through her. “You read my thoughts?” she came close to yelling. He must know, then, that he had intrigued her from the first night they had met. That she thought about him all the time. That she had, not five minutes ago, wanted nothing more than to strip him naked and roll around in bed with him.
The snake!
He held up both hands in a placating gesture. “Not all of them. Not even most of them. Just a few here and there.”
Her face must be turning as red as a raspberry because he seemed quite desperate to assuage her anger.
“Some
gifted ones
, like yourself, have a natural defense and are difficult to read,” he claimed.
“
How
difficult,” she snarled, ready to kick his ass if he gave the wrong answer.
“
Very
difficult,” he hurried to reassure her. “Extremely difficult. Sometimes I can’t read you at all. Other times I only catch a word or two.”
A word or two. That could be less incriminating, she supposed. Maybe her mind was closed enough that he didn’t know she was attracted to him.
“Well, no. I knew that,” he said.
Mouth falling open, she stared at him in dismay. Hell. Did she have
no
secrets from him?
“You have
many
secrets from me.”
“Stop reading my thoughts!”
“I’m sorry. It’s just . . . you’re broadcasting them rather loudly at the moment and . . . There is no reason to feel embarrassed, Krysta.”
“Easy for you to say! You weren’t caught mentally checking out my package!”
A startled laugh escaped him before he hastily quelled it. “You’re attracted to me. I know that. But I’m attracted to you, too. I have been ever since the first night I saw you when you stumbled out of that damned frat house, pretending to be drunk, turned your face up to the sky, and seemed to look right at me.”
Her mind quieted. “Really?”
“Yes. And now I can’t read what you’re thinking at all, so if that offends you . . . Well, I won’t apologize for it. You’re a strong, beautiful woman who knows her way around a blade. I find that”—he drew in a deep breath as his eyes traveled over her with a heat that scorched her—“incredibly appealing. But I
will
apologize for whatever discomfort it causes you.”
How the hell was she supposed to respond to that?
Best to just change the subject and try not to
broadcast her thoughts,
whatever the hell that meant. “Tell me again how immortals differ from vampires.”
He did, beginning with
gifted ones
and blowing her mind. She and her brother and parents had always known they were different. But they hadn’t known
why
. They hadn’t realized they possessed advanced DNA.
And she hadn’t known that vampirism was caused by a virus.
“So the virus causes brain damage and madness in humans, but not in
gifted ones?”
“Correct. Our advanced DNA protects us.”
“Where does the DNA come from?”
“We don’t know.”
Recalling all of the times she had been splattered with vampire blood, the time one had bitten her, and the long, wet kiss she had just shared with Étienne, she asked uneasily, “How contagious is this virus?”
He smiled. “Fleeting contact with it won’t transform you. A few drops of vampire blood mingling with yours in a wound won’t infect you. And you can’t get it from a kiss.
Or
from sex.”
That was nice to know for future reference.
“You can only be transformed in two ways: By having most of your blood drained, then being infused with the blood of a vampire or immortal. Or by being fed from and exposed to the virus in small amounts repeatedly.” He frowned. “Have you ever been bitten by the vampires you hunt?” The idea seemed to upset him.
“Only once.” And it hadn’t been a vamp she had been hunting.
Darkness swept his visage as his brown eyes flashed bright amber once more. “Describe the vampire who bit you.”
Why should it thrill her that he wanted to hunt down the vamp who had sunk his filthy fangs into her?
“No need,” she assured him. “I killed him myself.”
A slow smile lit his face as he wagged his head back and forth.
“What?” she asked.
“I like you more with every tidbit I learn about you.”
She smiled. “You’re pretty likable yourself.”
“Now that you know I’m not a vampire?”
“You were likable even as a vampire. It was very annoying.”
He laughed, flashing those pearly fangs.
If he was infected with the same virus that vampires were, then he must need blood. She had even seen his brother bite his wrist and
infuse
him with her own eyes. “If you hunt vampires who prey upon humans, does that mean you don’t . . .”
“Kill humans myself?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t wanted to ask, in part because she wasn’t sure she would like his answer.
“I don’t feed from humans
or
prey upon them as vampires do. But, as you saw tonight, I
will
kill any human who threatens me or mine.”
Which had it been tonight, she wondered, me or mine? Then called herself a fool. “But, you do need blood?”
“Yes. I assume Richart gave me blood while I was unconscious?”
She nodded. “He, ah, bit your wrist and fed you or whatever.”
“Normally we receive sustenance from blood bags. The humans who work with us also donate blood regularly, so we don’t feed directly from humans unless extreme circumstances drive us to do so.”
Drinking blood. Gross.
“We don’t drink the blood,” he said. “Our fangs carry it straight to our veins.”
Right. That’s what Richart had said. “Are you reading my thoughts again?”
“No. Your face sort of scrunched up with disgust.”
“Oh. Sorry about that.” It wasn’t
his
fault he needed blood.
He smiled.
Damn, he was handsome when he smiled.
Hell, he was handsome when he didn’t.
Étienne leaned forward a bit. “Listen, about the humans who aid us . . .”
It was so weird, hearing that there were other humans out there who knew about all of this. “Yes?”
“Their top priority is to protect us, to protect immortals, or Immortal Guardians as they call us.”
Wasn’t that sort of backward? The weaker mortals protecting the powerful immortals? “
They
protect
you?
”
“Yes. They have a vested interest in doing so. After all, we’re the only thing keeping vampires from slaughtering humans unchecked. And we’ve been fighting to protect humans for millennia. So, the network—”
“The network?”
“That’s what we call the organization of humans who aid us. The network not only provides us with blood, it protects our identities and keeps the general public from finding out that vampires, immortals, and
gifted ones
exist. Our ability to hunt and destroy vampires would be severely inhibited, if not halted altogether, if mankind learned about us and began to hunt us.”
“But wouldn’t they
help
you if they knew? Why would you think they would . . . ?” A sickening dread soured her stomach as she recalled the way those soldiers had gone after Étienne earlier. “Is that what happened at Duke? Humans found out about you?”
He nodded. “We dealt with another such threat recently, but quashed it. I’m
certain
we quashed it. The attack tonight should not have happened. Should not even be possible. No mortals outside of the network should know about us.”
“Except, those solders did. And . . .” Oh, crap. “I do.”
“Precisely.” He shifted the arm resting on the back of the futon and cupped her shoulder in his large hand. The warmth of it still caught her off guard. She had assumed vampires—and immortals now that she knew about them—would be cold to the touch.
“The network is going to want to talk to you,” he told her somberly. And the concern on his face made her nervous. She had thought vampires were the biggest threat to her. His face said something different.
“You say talk,” she voiced. “I hear
interrogate
and
make disappear
.”
“It won’t be like that.”
“Are you sure? Because you look worried.”
“I’m not worried.” He looked away, muttered something in French, then turned back to her. “All right. I won’t lie to you. I
am
worried. The head of the East Coast division of the human network can be ruthless when it comes to protecting us from perceived mortal threats.”
Alarm rose. “You aren’t reassuring me. Are you saying I should run? That
we
should run? Because Sean knows about this, too.”
“No, don’t run. It wouldn’t do you any good. Chris could find a white dove in a blizzard.”
“Who is Chris?”
“Head of the network.”
“Great.”
“I don’t mean to scare you, Krysta. As long as you don’t view
us
, Immortal Guardians, as the bad guys and start hunting us, then everything should be fine. In fact, once Chris finds out you’re both
gifted ones
and that you can successfully hunt vampires, he will likely want to recruit you.”
That was a lot to take in. And could potentially be a good thing. How cool would it be to have other people working with her to eradicate the vampire menace? And to maybe even get paid for it?
Paid. Awesome.
“That sounds pretty good, actually.”
“Yes, it does,” he agreed. “You and Sean would fare much better if you worked for the network and had their support.”
“Then why don’t you look happy about it?”
“Because until he assures himself that you and your brother pose no threat to us, Chris will be a hard-nosed bastard and I don’t want him to upset you.”
Étienne was upset because he didn’t want
her
to be upset?
That was so sweet. It made her feel all mushy inside. And made her wonder . . . “Why?” she asked. “Why would it bother you so much if I were upset?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head and fingered a strand of her hair. “Because I like you far more than I should.”
Her heart began to pound once more. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
And she thought it wasn’t? She had spent the past six years hunting down and destroying men infected with the same virus that infected Étienne. She was pretty much going on faith here that he wasn’t like them, though his words and actions were pretty damned convincing. Plus . . .
He was immortal.
She was mortal.
Liking each other
too
much could have some serious consequences.
He gave her a faint smile. “You mimicked my thoughts so closely I may as well have spoken them aloud.”
“Stop reading my thoughts,” she murmured without heat or anger.
“Stop broadcasting them,” he said, equally hushed. “You haven’t told me your gift, Krysta.”
She did
not
want to go there. “Could we maybe save that for another time?” Everyone she had ever told (outside of her family—and there had been precious few) had thought her a nutcase.
“If you wish. But you will receive no mockery or condemnation from me when you do. I’ve dealt with the surreal and paranormal all of my life. Very little surprises me anymore.”
“Fine.” Hoping he would be the one person who
wouldn’t
think she either needed a straitjacket or was bullshitting, she drew in a deep breath, ordered herself not to feel hurt if he laughed, and said, “I can see auras.”
“Auras. The glowing colors some say surround people? Those are real?”
She breathed a little easier. He sounded curious, not doubtful. “Yes.”
“How does that help you hunt?”
“What do you mean?”
“The only mortals who can hold their own in battles with vampires are
gifted ones
whose particular talents give them some kind of edge. How does reading auras help you?”
She hesitated, wanting to tell him, but . . .
He smiled. “Not quite ready to trust?”
“This is all a lot to take in. I just don’t want to—”
“Don’t worry,” he said, touching her shoulder again. “I understand and can wait for you to tell me in your own time.” He winked. “No need to share all of our secrets at once.”
Which implied he thought they would be spending more time with each other and could share secrets later.
The notion pleased Krysta far more than it should.