Darkness Rises
Page 12

Had he died protecting her?
Sean said nothing. Face impassive, he moved to the opposite side of the bed, bent over, and felt for a pulse himself.
Minutes passed. Krysta didn’t know how many. But with each, she felt shakier inside and more ready to scream with panic and regret and everything else building inside her.
“He’s alive,” Sean pronounced. “His pulse is so slow he would be declared dead in a hospital, but it’s there.”
Despite her attempts to stop them, a few tears spilled over her lashes. Krysta sank onto the side of the bed, all of her aches and pains making themselves known in a big way now that she wasn’t completely distracted.
“Before we get into what happened tonight,” Sean said as he strolled around to stand before her, “tell me where you’re hurt.”
She scrubbed her hands down her face and hoped he hadn’t noticed the tears. “My head is the worst. I think I might have a concussion.”
Sean closed his eyes a moment, then cupped his large hands around the back of her head. Seconds later, they heated and the pain slowly disappeared. “What else?” he asked, teeth clenched against the pain that now bombarded him.
“Nothing that can’t be patched up with Band-Aids, butterfly closures, and a few stitches.” Healing the head wound would have taken enough out of him that any cuts or gashes he healed on her now would open on his own body. She wouldn’t let that happen. After the mess she had just brought down on their heads, she wouldn’t make him bleed, too.
“Go shower. I’ll stitch you up when you get out.”
Nodding, she grabbed some clean clothes from her dresser. “Do you want to lie down for a while?” His head must be killing him.
He gave her a grim smile. “I can’t. Someone needs to watch our guest.”
Krysta said nothing.
What could she say? She had just welcomed one of the vampires she had sworn to kill into their home and placed them both in danger.
Heading into the bathroom, she closed the door.
The hot water stung her open cuts like salt, making her want to scream as she hurried through her shower. The most she would permit herself, however, was a grunt or two.
Damn, it hurt!
And rushing things didn’t help. She couldn’t be careful with wounds when she was dragging a rough, soapy washcloth across them as quickly as possible because she feared what her brother might do to Etienne if she took too long.
Or what Etienne might do to Sean, if she weren’t there when he awoke.
If he awoke.
She barely took the time to dry off before hurriedly donning a sports bra, tank top, panties, and shorts. Leaving her hair to air-dry in whatever tangled mess it had acquired, she grabbed a smaller towel, held it to the thigh that still bled sluggishly, and hobbled back to her bedroom.
Sean had dragged one of their sagging director’s chairs into the room and sprawled in it, his gaze shifting from the television to Etienne and back.
He didn’t look up when she entered. “Nothing on the news yet.”
Jeeze. She hadn’t even thought of that. But how could what had happened tonight not make the news? A dozen or more soldiers killed in what would be deemed a firefight on an elite college campus?
Just what kind of soldiers had those men been? Military? SWAT?
Crap. What if surveillance cameras had caught it all on tape? She knew where most of the cameras on the various college campuses were positioned and lured vampires away from them so she could destroy them without witnesses. But cameras could have caught her going into the loading area just before the fight broke out. They could have caught her and Sean loading Etienne into the car and fleeing the scene.
What had she done?
“You need to tell me what happened tonight,” Sean said in a low, don’t-fuck-with-me voice. “All of it. And you need to tell me everything else that has been going on.” His gaze went to Etienne, then rose to meet hers. “Because you’ve clearly been holding out on me.”
And he deserved more than that. After all he did for her, all he sacrificed for her . . .
Nodding, Krysta started to sit on the side of the bed.
“No. Sit here. I need to see to your other wounds.”
She hadn’t even noticed the first-aid bag on the floor beside him.
Krysta crossed to him and turned her back to show him the wound in her thigh as he rose.
“What is it with vampires and hamstrings?” he muttered as he knelt behind her and went to work.
It seemed to be one of their favorite places to strike.
“I don’t know.” She gritted her teeth as he began to stitch the wound.
“So?” he prodded.
“He’s been following me.”
“The vamp on the bed?”
“Yes. Ever since the first night I encountered him, he’s been following me and taking out the vampires I lure away before I can engage them.”
“That’s why you haven’t come home battered and bloodied lately?”
She nodded. “He kills the vamps before I can even draw my weapons.”
A pause. “You should have told me.”
“I didn’t know. Not for sure. Not until last night. I knew vampires were following me, I was sure they had taken the bait. But when I spun around to confront them, they were gone just like on the other nights. I heard the sounds of a struggle a few blocks away and ran like hell to see what was happening.”
“You what?”
“By the time I caught up, there was nothing but a pile of clothes. He had already killed them.”
Quiet enfolded them as Sean stitched. It must have been a longer and deeper cut than she had supposed.
“I confronted him. Goaded him into showing himself.”
“Brilliant,” he groused.
She’d let that slide, knowing worry spawned it.
“Did he say why he killed them?”
“He said he was protecting me.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know.”
“He’s a vampire and you’re a vampire hunter.”
“I know.”
He finished torturing her with the needle and applied a bandage.
Exhaling a deep sigh of relief, Krysta turned around and sank gingerly into the chair. “He wanted me to stop hunting. He said it was too dangerous and couldn’t believe I’ve been doing it for so long without getting myself killed.”
“I can’t believe you’ve been doing it so long without getting yourself killed.”
“Smart-ass.”
He grunted.
“He said he’s been hunting vampires himself for two hundred years, Sean.”
He glanced up at her as he retrieved some butterfly closures. “Two hundred years?”
“Yes.”
“Why would a vampire hunt other vampires? Is it a territorial thing or something?”
“He said it wasn’t, but wouldn’t go into it. And tonight . . .” She didn’t want to think about it.
“What the hell happened, Krysta?”
“I played my usual Victim Here role, lured some vampires behind the building where you found us, and confronted them before Etienne could snatch them away.”
He nodded at their guest. “I assume he’s Etienne?”
“Yes. They called him an immortal guardian, and thought I was something called a second.”
“What the hell is that?”
“I don’t know. But they were afraid of him and pissed at him all at the same time. And I can see why. There were six vampires and he took out most of them with no help from me and again saved my ass. Then, all of a sudden, someone shot him in the neck with a tranquilizer dart.”
“Vampires can be sedated? Shit. I didn’t even think of that.”
“I didn’t either. As soon as he saw the dart, Etienne told me to run and shoved me behind the building. Then the soldiers you saw appeared and shot him all to hell. They would have killed me, Sean, if he hadn’t saved me. If he had run, they would have come after me. But he stayed and fought and took those bullets so I would have time to get away.”
He sat back. “I don’t understand. Why would a bunch of human soldiers want to kill you, another human? I mean, if they’re vampire hunters like you, wouldn’t they want to protect you?”
“I think they believed I was a second—whatever that is— like the vampires did. Either that or they wanted him and thought I was expendable. Hell, maybe they thought I was his Renfield.”
“Shit.”
“I know.”
“If he wanted to save you, why didn’t he just toss you over his shoulder and run?”
“Maybe he was already too weak. Or maybe he was afraid they’d shoot me before he could get us out of range. Or maybe he just wasn’t thinking straight because of the drug.”
He went back to work. “And your daggers?”
How had they ended up in the throat and heart of two human men?
“I couldn’t let them kill him or capture him after he sacrificed himself to protect me.”
Sean sighed. “Were they military?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t identify themselves. Didn’t shout, Halt! Don’t move! Police! Army! SWAT! Nothing. They just opened fire.”
Zipping his bag closed, Sean sat back on the floor. “What a mess.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I can’t think straight. My head is fucking killing me.”
Guilt suffused her, as it always did when he suffered physical pain after healing her wounds.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked wearily. “What are we going to do with Count Chocula over there?”
“I don’t know.”
Rising, Sean stared down at the unconscious vampire. “Immortal guardian,” he muttered.
“That’s what they called him.”
“His wounds aren’t healing. He probably needs blood.”
“Well, I’d kinda like to keep mine where it is, particularly since I lost some tonight.”