Death of Darkness

by Dianne Duvall

  Seth growled.

  Stanislav was alive. And these bastards were trying to kill him.

  Well, fuck that.

  Bullets slammed into Seth’s back, fueling his fury.

  Thunder split the night like an explosion. Lightning streaked across the sky, its skeletal fingers clawing through rapidly gathering clouds. Seth swung back around and teleported directly into the shooters’ midst.

  Two men lay on the ground, unconscious and bleeding from gunshot wounds. Two more panicked when he appeared right in front of them. Yelping, they tried to turn their weapons his way. Seth yanked the rifles from their hands and tossed them toward the back of the house. A swift search of their minds confirmed these fuckers had shot both Stanislav and the woman.

  Seth palmed two daggers in a blink. Screams erupted as he repaid them wound for wound. When they crumpled to the ground beside their comrades, Seth turned to confront the rest. One fell before he could reach him, taken down by bullets fired by Alexei, who was there too. Seth viciously attacked the villains who remained, inflicting pain and injuries that would incapacitate them but leave them breathing. Though he dearly wanted to kill them all, he needed to find out what the hell was going on and couldn’t do that if they died.

  Alexei’s gun fell silent as he let Seth work.

  A minute later, the brief battle ended. Sheathing his bloody daggers, Seth teleported directly to Stanislav’s side.

  Stanislav stood behind the house, both arms still clutching the injured woman, his face buried in her hair. Barely managing to remain on her feet, the woman jumped at Seth’s sudden appearance, then moaned at the agony the sharp movement spawned.

  Stanislav lifted his head.

  Seth stared at him, almost afraid to believe it.

  Stanislav’s eyes glowed bright amber. The scent of his and the woman’s blood suffused the air. What Seth could see of the younger immortal’s shirt was saturated with the ruby liquid and bore numerous holes. The woman’s was soaked, too, and bore a ragged hole in the back.

  Stanislav’s breath wheezed in and out of lungs that had clearly been damaged by a barrage of bullets. But he was alive. Stanislav was alive!

  Lightning flashed above them again. Raindrops began to fall with a pitter-patter that swiftly coalesced into a downpour, reflecting the intense emotion that buffeted Seth.

  “Stanislav,” he whispered hoarsely past the thick lump that lodged itself in his throat. “I thought you were dead.” Moisture burned the backs of his eyes as he shook his head. “I reached out to you so many times but couldn’t feel you. Not until tonight.”

  Stanislav nodded. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth and tightened his hold on the woman. “D-Don’t let me drop her,” he choked out, blood painting his teeth.

  “Of course.” Leaping forward, Seth gently took the woman from him and lifted her into his arms.

  When the woman cast Stanislav a frantic look, the younger immortal limped forward and brushed a bloody hand over her hair. “It’s okay,” he wheezed. “I trust him… with my life.”

  Alexei jogged around the far corner of the house and approached them, his boots splashing in the water that rapidly pooled on the lawn and rolled downhill. Eyelashes spiked by the large drops, he told Stanislav, “All of them are down. Three dead. Six unconscious.” Then he smiled up at Seth. “You showed up just in time.”

  Just in time for what? What the hell was going on? Where had Stanislav been all this time? Why hadn’t he reached out to Seth? Who were those men who had been trying to kill the three of them? Were they in any way related to Gershom? Had Gershom held Stanislav captive all this time? Were these men trying to kill him because he had escaped?

  The many questions bombarding him would have to wait.

  Stanislav wavered on his feet.

  Seth glanced at Alexei. “Help him inside.”

  Alexei looped his rifle strap over his shoulder and quickly moved forward to offer Stanislav support.

  Did Alexei’s presence here mean he had known all this time that Stanislav was alive?

  No. As soon as the thought arose, Seth dismissed it. Alexei had grieved as deeply as Seth over Stanislav’s loss. He must’ve just found out.

  Seth turned toward the back of the house. Careful not to jostle the woman in his arms, he carried her up the steps and across a long deck. The body of a man—another of their attackers, he assumed—sprawled on the wood and propped the back door open for him.

  Seth strode inside.

  “I can’t remember the last time I saw you with so many wounds,” Alexei told Stanislav outside. “You’re off your game.”

  Stanislav laughed, then grunted in pain. “Yeah. A little bit.”

  Seth lowered the woman to the sofa. Blood saturated the front of her shirt, pouring from a ragged wound a bullet had carved through her chest, damaging organs. Her coloring was bad. She could barely breathe. And Seth was stunned to realize he recognized her.

  Susan Meyer. She was a gifted one who had nearly been abducted in California several years earlier. Men had found out she was telepathic and had intended to send her to the same facility in which they had held and tortured Ami for six months. Though Susan didn’t know it, Seth and David had thwarted the attackers from whom she had escaped and prevented them from finding her when she had fled to North Carolina. He hadn’t seen her in years.

  How had she and Stanislav ended up here together with men trying to kill them both?

  Seth rested a hand over her wound. Warm healing energy raced through him and into Susan. He stifled a curse as he realized the full extent of the damage. If he had arrived just a few minutes later, she would’ve died.

  His hand began to glow as flesh knitted itself back together and organs healed.

  Her breathing grew smoother. The lines of pain in her face receded. A little color returned to her pallid features. But her teeth chattered, both as a result of blood loss and from the rain that had soaked her amid the cool autumn temperatures.

  Seth flooded her with warmth. He’d seen a fireplace when he’d entered. Glancing at it, he ignited the carefully stacked logs within it to raise the temperature in the room and make her more comfortable.

  Stanislav and Alexei entered.

  Seth’s hand ceased glowing as he withdrew his touch.

  Susan stared at him with wide eyes, then tentatively tucked bloody fingers into the neckline of her shirt and lifted it a few inches. Tilting her chin down, she peered at the flesh that should have borne an ugly bullet wound but now was completely healed. Her lips parted as she released her shirt and looked over at Stanislav. “That’s amazing.”

  Stanislav mustered a smile that was part grimace. “Susan, this is Seth… the eldest and most… powerful amongst us.”

  Seth’s preternatural hearing allowed him to hear the blood rattling in Stanislav’s lungs. Rising, he closed the distance between them.

  Alexei made sure Stanislav could stand on his own, then stepped back.

  Stanislav exhibited no anger as he transferred his smile to Seth. “I’m afraid I’m too… weary to explain it all,” he wheezed. “Just… read it in my mind.”

  Seth gripped Stanislav’s shoulder and felt the hard muscle beneath his shirt. He really is alive. Overcome with joy, Seth blinked back new tears and pressed his free hand to Stanislav’s chest.

  Stanislav shivered with cold, a testament to how weak his wounds had left him. All Immortal Guardians could control their body temperature with a thought unless severely wounded.

  Energy swept through Seth as he filled Stanislav with soothing warmth, then set about healing the younger immortal’s wounds. There were so many of them. Several bullets that hadn’t passed through him worked their way out of the holes they’d carved and fell to the floor with a clatter. As Seth wove the ragged flesh back together, he combed through Stanislav’s memories.

  Pain struck as he witnessed Yuri’s decapitation through Stanislav’s eyes, felt the devastating grief that had propelled Stanis
lav toward his friend’s body amid the chaotic mercenary battle and had driven him to inadvertently deflect a grenade hurled at him into the armory.

  Stanislav hadn’t died in the blast, but he had come damned close. Vampire mercenaries had stolen him away in the ensuing chaos and buried him in the basement of one vampire’s house. Believing them responsible for Yuri’s death, Stanislav had used his empathic gift to warp the vampire’s emotions into anger and distrust and tricked them into killing each other. Then he had lost consciousness and slipped into the odd stasis or involuntary state of hibernation that gripped immortals when their blood supply dipped too low.

  No wonder Seth hadn’t felt him. No wonder he’d lost his connection to him. Stanislav had remained in stasis, buried in that basement, for two and a half years until Susan had bought the house and found him. He had only been awake for a few days.

  “You were weakened before the battle even began tonight,” Seth pronounced, his voice rough with emotion as he healed the younger immortal’s wounds. “You should have called me.” The muscles in the shoulder Seth gripped relaxed as Stanislav’s breathing grew easy again and the pain dwindled.

  Stanislav shook his head. “I didn’t remember you until minutes before the attack. I didn’t remember any of my past.”

  Seth saw as much in his thoughts. Stanislav had awoken with no memory of who or what he was. He hadn’t remembered until this evening after blood infusions and a long healing sleep.

  As soon as he finished mending all of Stanislav’s wounds, Seth dragged him into a tight hug. Emotion choked him when Stanislav hugged him back. Joy. Grief. Guilt. And half a dozen others.

  “We lost Yuri,” Seth choked out.

  Stanislav nodded and clutched him tighter.

  “I thought I’d lost you, too.” Shame and self-loathing writhed within Seth as it always did when he thought of that day. “I failed you both.”

  “No,” Stanislav insisted, his voice thick with tears, “you didn’t.” Loosening his hold, he stepped back.

  Seth didn’t want to release him but forced himself to let go.

  “Why couldn’t I remember you?” Stanislav asked with a baffled shake of his head. “Was it brain damage caused by the explosion?”

  “No.” When his voice once more emerged hoarse, Seth cleared his throat and tried again. “No. It was a consequence of the stasis.” He drew a hand down his face, erasing the tears that mingled with the moisture rain had left on his cheeks. “Even I’m not clear on how the odd state of hibernation immortals can slip into affects the various portions of the brain. But I have learned over the millennia that the longer an immortal remains in stasis, the more likely he is to forget his past. It all depends on how long he sleeps. Sometimes the memory loss is partial. Sometimes it’s total. Or near total, as it was with you.”

  Stanislav nodded. “I remembered what a gifted one was, but not what an immortal was. I remembered how to shield my thoughts from telepaths but couldn’t remember any telepaths. And I kept seeing flashes of the battle.”

  “It has been centuries since an immortal remained in stasis longer than a day or two,” Seth told him. “Such has rarely happened since I began assigning you all Seconds to watch over you and keep track of you.” It was yet another reason he had begun to do so. It was hard as hell to find an immortal who lay in stasis. Having a human Second who could narrow down his or her immortal’s location had aided Seth immensely. “But thus far, the memory loss has never been permanent, even for those who slept longer than you. With more blood infusions, you would’ve regained your memory faster.”

  Alexei spoke up. “Is the stasis the reason you couldn’t feel him? Couldn’t locate him?”

  “Yes. Until the immortal heals and regains his memory, he remains off my radar, so to speak. I don’t know why.” That and death were usually the only two things that would keep him from locating immortals. It was why Gershom’s newfound ability to block Seth and keep him from locating the missing immortals puzzled him so. Tessa was proof that Gershom wasn’t keeping them locked in stasis, yet Seth still couldn’t feel them.

  Stanislav moved closer to Susan. Reaching out, he took her hand. In the few days the two had spent together, he clearly had developed deep feelings for her.

  When Susan tried to rise, she reeled dizzily and sank back down. Though her wounds were healed, she remained pale. Or paler than usual, based on what he read in Stanislav’s thoughts. And Seth could hear her heart beating too quickly.

  Stanislav cast him a look of concern. “Is she okay?”

  Alexei spoke before Seth could. “She needs a transfusion. You do, too, Stan.”

  Seth nodded, kicking himself for not having already taken care of it. “Forgive me. We shall see to it now. Do you wish to go to David’s place or to the network?”

  Both had state-of-the-art infirmaries and kept blood on hand.

  “David’s,” Stanislav said. He bent over the sofa.

  Seth touched his shoulder. “Let me.” Having healed him, he knew how weak Stanislav’s wounds had left him.

  Stanislav stubbornly shook his head. “I’ll do it.”

  Privy to the strong emotion Stanislav bore for Susan, Seth offered no protest.

  Stanislav smiled and lifted Susan into his arms. But as he cradled her against his chest, his smile slipped away and his brow furrowed.

  A peek into his thoughts revealed regret over the violence he’d introduced to Susan’s world. This apparently had not been the first time men had tried to capture him since Susan had found him. His thoughts now ran along the same lines as Seth’s did for Leah. Stanislav believed the kindest thing he could do would be to get Susan the medical care she needed, then return her to her life and walk away. But like Seth, he didn’t know if he could find the strength to do it.

  Susan curled her arms around his neck. “Don’t you dare even try,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to do it.”

  Stanislav closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Susan’s. He swayed dizzily. Eyes flying open, he struggled to right himself as he listed to one side.

  Seth and Alexei both clamped hands onto his shoulders to steady him.

  “Easy there,” Alexei cautioned.

  “Let’s get you home,” Seth murmured and teleported them to the bright, modern infirmary in David’s large home.

  “Darnell!” he called.

  “What just happened?” Susan blurted.

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway as Darnell approached.

  “Seth teleported us to David’s home,” Stanislav explained. “David is his second-in-command and—”

  “Holy shit,” Darnell whispered as he stopped short in the doorway. His eyes widened. “Stanislav?” His brown, cleanly shaven head gleamed in the overhead lights. “We thought you were dead.”

  “Not quite,” Stanislav responded with a smile.

  “Darnell,” Seth said, drawing his attention, “Stanislav needs blood and Susan needs a transfusion.”

  “Right. I’ll, uh… I’ll need her blood type.” Shaking off his shock, Darnell crossed to the adjacent storage room and opened the large refrigerator therein.

  Alexei guided Stanislav toward one of the beds in the recovery room portion of the infirmary.

  Stanislav lowered Susan onto the closest bed. “Do you know your blood type?”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  Seth drew a phone from his back pocket and dialed Chris’s number.

  “Reordon,” he answered curtly.

  “I need to know the blood type of Susan Meyer.”

  “Susan Meyer?” Chris parroted, surprise entering his voice. “From California?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just a sec.”

  Darnell returned, carrying several bags of blood he held out to Stanislav.

  “Thank you.” Stanislav took the bags, then lowered himself to the mattress beside Susan.

  Darnell smiled and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

  Stani
slav offered him a weary smile. “It’s good to be back.”

  Chris spoke. “Looks like she’s A negative.”

  “Excellent,” Seth replied. “Thank you.” Pocketing his phone, he turned to Darnell. “She’s A negative.”

  Susan stared at him. “Do I even want to know how you know that?”

  Darnell snorted. “Are you kidding?” He jerked a thumb toward Seth. “This guy knows everything.”

  “Smart-ass,” Seth grumbled as Darnell moved away. But he kept his eyes on Stanislav, still finding it hard to believe he was back.

  Out of sight, the front door slammed open.

  “Seth!” David called, the word infused with concern.

  Stanislav grinned upon hearing it.

  David’s boots clomped as he strode up the hallway and entered the room, his brow furrowed. “I felt your turmoil and—” Catching sight of Stanislav, he stopped short and gaped. “Stanislav?”

  Stanislav nodded. “It’s good to see you, David.”

  An amber glow lit David’s eyes as moisture glimmered in them. Racing forward, he swept Stanislav into a tight hug. “We searched for you,” he uttered hoarsely. “We feared you hadn’t survived but couldn’t give up hoping…”

  Stanislav clapped him on the back. “I’m sorry. I would’ve contacted you if I’d remembered you sooner.”

  David released him and stepped back with a frown.

  “He’s been in stasis,” Seth informed him.

  Did Gershom have him? David asked Seth telepathically.

  No. Now that he had calmed a bit, Seth reviewed both the thoughts he’d read from the men who attacked Stanislav and the thoughts he’d plucked from Stanislav’s mind.

  It would seem the vampires who had nabbed Stanislav had hoped to use him to find a cure for the progressive brain damage that afflicted humans infected with the vampiric virus. Their colleagues, on the other hand, had known about Stanislav’s immortality and had wanted get their hands on him so they could study him and use him to create a fountain-of-youth serum they could sell to multimillionaires and billionaires.