They jerked and fell to the ground, only getting off a few shots of their own.
Maybe he had been too hasty. Maybe she
would
actually come out the victor.
No sooner had the thought struck than a dozen more mercenaries entered the fray.
Lisette raced directly into their midst, wreaking havoc, breaking necks, cutting throats, and taking more bullets and tranquilizer darts.
The darts didn’t worry him. He had heard the immortals say the antidote prevented further exposure to the sedative from affecting them. But the bullet wounds . . .
Instead of healing, they continued to bleed, a symptom of the weakness infiltrating her and spreading within as she continued to lose blood.
His heart pounded. His breath shortened.
She was slowing down. Still fighting. Still slaying. But slowing down. Suffering more wounds.
The soldiers tightened ranks, again boldly encircling her.
He sensed no fear in her, only a determination to take out as many as she could before she breathed her last breath.
Well, fuck that.
Knowing the step he was about to take would forever alter his future, Zach released his wings and took to the air.
Panting, gritting her teeth against the pain, Lisette swung her shoto sword at the soldier in front of her and sliced open his chest.
How many were there? It seemed as though every time she slew one, two more took his place.
And she was weakening, moving almost as slowly as a human, losing the edge immortal speed and strength had given her.
A breeze coaxed some of her hair from its braid.
She felt a presence behind her.
The mercenaries all gasped and stumbled backward, looking over her shoulder.
Lisette spun around . . . and gaped.
It was him. The elder immortal she, Roland, and Sarah had interrogated.
Zach.
Facing away from her, he wore only low-riding dark leather pants similar to the ones he had sported when she had abducted him. His wings were stretched wide, their tips brushing the walls of nearby buildings.
More than one of the mercenaries crossed themselves.
Zach waved a hand.
The mercenaries dropped their weapons to the ground with a clatter.
Lisette glanced behind her.
Yes. Those had dropped their weapons, too.
Dizziness assailed her.
She staggered, barely managing to remain on her feet. She had lost count of the number of times she had been shot.
Darkness threatened.
She couldn’t think, didn’t know what was happening.
Was Zach working with the mercenaries?
She stared at the back of his head, at his windblown, longish, raven hair.
“You,” he said, pointing at a soldier.
The mercenary stepped forward.
The elder immortal made a motion with his hand and closed it into a fist. The other mercenaries all collapsed to the ground, sightless eyes wide as they drew their last breaths.
Those beautiful wings folded in against Zach’s back.
He turned to face her.
Lisette tilted her head way back to look up at him. He was well over a foot taller than she was and she stood at five foot six.
“The tracking device,” he said, his glowing golden eyes locking on hers.
“W-what?” she rasped.
He held out a large hand, palm up. “The tracking device you’re supposed to plant on him. Give it to me.”
She dropped one of her beloved shoto swords and fumbled with the outer pocket that contained the tiny tracking device Chris had given her. Her fingers wouldn’t cooperate. She couldn’t even get the pocket open and it wasn’t buttoned.
Zach gently brushed her hand aside and tucked his own hand in the pocket. When he withdrew it, the tracking device was carefully pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
He waved the mercenary over.
The soldier approached robotically and waited patiently while the immortal picked up one of the discarded M16s, then attached the device to it.
Lisette wanted to protest when he handed the man the weapon, but couldn’t find enough breath for it.
“You saw neither of us tonight. Vampires attacked your squad and only you survived,” Zach said.
The mercenary nodded, then turned and jogged away.
Zach swiveled to face her.
“M-mind control?” she managed to ask.
He nodded.
She tried to ask about the others, but could only motion to them.
“Ruptured aneurysms. I’ve never altered the health of a human before and am actually surprised it worked.”
She nodded. Her knees buckled.
Zach caught her before she could hit the ground. “Easy,” he said, his voice soft and deep. Kneeling, he laid her on the ground with her upper body cradled in his lap.
Moonlight formed a halo around his head as she stared up at him, struggling for breath.
The bullets had done a lot of damage. She knew that, rather than kill her, excessive damage would send her into a sort of stasis not unlike the hibernation of a water bear. But she had never done that before and couldn’t help but fear the prospect as she felt her heart rate slow. And slow some more.
He rested a hand on her chest.
At first she thought he was feeling her up and forgot everything else in a few seconds’ shock. Then she realized his thumb rested upon her collarbone and his fingers weren’t splayed enough to reach her breasts.
His hand heated, warm and comforting. A tingling feeling engulfed her, part pleasure and part pain, beginning in her chest and sweeping down her arms to her fingers, down her torso to her thighs, calves, and toes. Misshapen bullets emerged from her flesh. Bleeding ceased. Wounds closed. Bones shattered by bullets fused themselves back together. Her collapsed lung reinflated. Her breathing grew easier. The pain receded, then vanished entirely.
He removed his hand from her chest, curling it into a loose fist, then rubbing his thumb against his fingers as though touching her had made
him
tingle.
She sat up, but didn’t move away. Just to double check, she pulled the neckline of her sticky shirt away from her body and peered down through it at her bare chest and bra-encased breasts. No wounds. Only dried blood.
She let the material fall back against her and stared up at him, too tired to attempt to stand yet. He had healed her wounds, but severe blood loss still rendered her weak.
A shiver shook her.
He unfurled his beautiful wings and cupped them around her like a tent, keeping the breeze at bay.
“Who
are
you?” she asked when she could find her voice. “Really?”
“Zach,” he said simply.
“That only tells me your name, not who you are.”
He shrugged. “Seth calls me Cousin.”
“You’re Seth’s cousin?”
Merde
. He really
was
an elder. She had never heard of any immortal other than David being so close to their leader in age. Or who may actually be able to match his power.
And that had been quite a power display, killing the mercenaries without even touching them.
“Why have I never heard of you?” she asked. “Why don’t you ever come inside when you visit David’s? Why do you keep your presence a secret?”
“Neither Seth nor David would want me there.”
“Why? Did you have a falling-out?”
He seemed to weigh his words. “Seth and I chose different paths when we were still young men and disagreed with each other’s choices.”
David would have, of course, taken Seth’s side. He and Seth were like brothers.
“Are you enemies?” She was pretty sure she would have heard about it if this man had been actively trying to kill Seth or wage war with him.
“No.”
Just no. Nothing more.
She had a feeling she wasn’t going to get anything more specific than that, but tried anyway. “So, you’re immortal, but don’t lead the life of an Immortal Guardian? You don’t hunt vampires or have a Second?”
“Correct.”
“Until tonight.”
“Technically, I let
you
slay the vampires, then took care of the mercenaries when you faltered.”
And saved her life. Had he not stepped in when he did, the mercenaries would have captured her. “So you intervened where, in the past, you would not have.”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“Why?”
He clenched and unclenched his jaw. “I couldn’t let them take you.”
“Why?”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t know.”
If she didn’t need blood so badly just then, she was sure her heart would have begun to beat faster.
Had he veered from his chosen path for
her?
“You need blood,” he pointed out.
She nodded, a shock of excitement darting through her at the idea of leaning into him, pressing against that wide, muscled, bare chest, and touching her lips to his neck.
“I can’t give you mine,” he said, his deep voice full of . . . regret?
“Okay.” What the hell was she doing? Was she
attracted
to him? A man who had freely admitted he was at odds with Seth, the wisest man she knew and to whom she owed her life and allegiance?
Snapping out of it, she fumbled with her coat, seeking the right pocket and—fingers tangling in a couple of holes—managed to draw out her cell phone.
Or what was left of it. A bullet had forged a hole through it on its way to her liver.
Wonderful.
“May I borrow your phone?” she asked. “I need to call my Second.” Tracy could take care of notifying Chris that a cleanup crew was needed and have Richart bring Lisette some much-needed blood.
“I don’t carry a phone.”
Okay. Plan B.
She looked at the lifeless mercenary bodies around them. Tucking them away, out of sight, seemed a monumental task as low on energy and strength as she was right now. And when her energy was low, her telepathic range diminished greatly.
Étienne?
she called. Perhaps he and Krysta were hunting nearby.
Nothing.
Étienne! I need you.
Still nothing.
Richart?
She had an even smaller chance of contacting Richart because he couldn’t send his reply telepathically. He could only think it and hope she would pick up on it.
“I can take you where you need to go,” Zach said, his eyes never leaving her.
She shook her head. “I can’t leave these bodies here. I need to contact the network and have them come clean things up, hide what happened from the humans.”
He sighed. “If I were a different man, I’d say you owe me one.”
One what? And shouldn’t being in this powerful immortal’s debt alarm her? “For killing the mercenaries and saving me?”
“No, for this.” He closed his eyes.
He was so handsome. Straight nose. Strong, shadowed jaw. Ebony brows over eyes so dark a brown they were almost black . . . when they weren’t glowing golden. Just like Seth’s.
He opened those eyes and met hers. “Help is on the way.”
“It is?”
“Can you sit by yourself?”
She hadn’t even realized he had been supporting her with an arm behind her back.
“Yes.” She sat up straighter.
Withdrawing his arm, he rose and backed away.
“Thank you,” she said, sensing he wouldn’t stay until help arrived.
He nodded. Bending his knees, he leapt up into the air and brought those powerful wings down, shooting into the sky like a missile and disappearing from sight.
Lisette didn’t know what to think. Of him. Of what he had done.
Seth appeared several yards away, his back to her. “What?” he growled. “I don’t appreciate being summoned so . . .” He trailed off.
Lisette felt as anxious facing Seth now as she had the first time she had realized just how much power he wielded.
Would he view her interaction with Zach as a betrayal?
He took in the dead mercenaries and turned around. “Lisette!” In a heartbeat, he knelt beside her and touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Just weak. I’ve lost a lot of blood.”
A couple of humans strolled in their direction, not yet in sight of the carnage.
Seth waved a hand in their direction, mentally guiding them away. “I was summoned here by another,” he said, studying her closely.
She swallowed. “Zach was here.”
No visible reaction. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. He saved me.”
A long pause followed, during which she fought the urge to squirm.
Was he reading her thoughts, surfing through them and replaying what had happened?
He drew out his phone and dialed. “Chris? Seth. Send a cleanup crew to UNCG. A couple of dozen mercenaries attacked Lisette and are dead. One fled bearing a tracking device.”
He had definitely read her thoughts. Lisette just hoped he hadn’t noticed the fascination and, yes, attraction she felt for the other elder.
“They did? Excellent. Keep me posted.” He pocketed his phone. “Étienne and Krysta also engaged mercenaries tonight, over at UNC Chapel Hill, and succeeded in planting a tracking device on one. Chris is already tracking him.”
“Good.”
“Can you hold out until the cleanup crew arrives, or shall I take you home or to David’s for blood now?”
“I can wait.” For blood. She couldn’t wait for a verdict on her encounter with Zach. “Are you angry?” she asked tentatively.
“With you? No.”
“With Zach?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Who is he, Seth?”
He looked at the bodies around them again. “I’m not sure anymore.”
“He said he’s your cousin,” she pressed.
“Did he?”
A human approached, accompanied by staticky walkie-talkie speech.