David was silent for a moment as he combed through Stanislav’s memories. “No wonder Seth couldn’t feel you.” He turned his gaze upon Susan. “I’m David. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Susan. Welcome to my home.”
She offered him a shy smile. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”
David looked to Seth. “Do the others know?”
“Not yet. We’ve only been here a minute or two.”
Moving to stand beside Seth, David rested a hand on his shoulder. “You were right. We didn’t lose him.”
Seth nodded, a lump once more lodging itself in his throat. “I’m afraid to take my eyes off him,” he admitted as he forced a smile.
David squeezed his shoulder. “Me, too.”
They returned their attention to the couple.
“Stop procrastinating and do it,” Susan ordered softly.
Stanislav eyed her warily. “Do what?”
She looked pointedly at the bags of blood in his lap.
He hesitated.
Seth didn’t blame him. Susan hadn’t discovered what exactly Stanislav was or that he needed regular blood infusions until the previous day.
She sighed. “After all the weird things I’ve witnessed since I met you, do you really think your drinking blood out of a bag is going to scare me away?”
“Maybe.”
She rolled her eyes. “You stopped an SUV with your fist, Stanislav, then threw it over my head like a freaking basketball. This”—she pointed to the bags of red liquid—“is nothing.”
Seth bit back a laugh. The two had been through a lot during the past few days. And they had weathered it well together.
Until tonight.
He sobered.
David met his gaze, his own eyes dark with regret.
After two and a half years of suffering, Stanislav had only just regained his memory and returned home. Now he and the woman he loved would be dragged into this damned war with Gershom.
David squeezed Seth’s shoulder. We’ll keep them safe.
Seth nodded, hoping like hell he was right. “I think it’s time we talk to Roland and Sarah.”
Nodding, David gave his shoulder a last pat. “We shall do it tonight after Stanislav and Susan are settled in.”
Chapter Thirteen
Seth caught Roland and Sarah as they left for the night’s hunt. He would’ve given all the immortals the night off so they could continue to celebrate the return of their brother, but Stanislav and Susan needed rest and vampires were no doubt already trolling for human victims. “Roland. Sarah.”
The two looked at him, a question entering their expressions.
“I need a moment of your time.”
Sarah smiled. “Okay.”
Roland nodded.
Since the two were already holding hands, Seth rested a hand on Roland’s shoulder and teleported them away from David’s place.
Sarah grinned up at her husband when they arrived at their destination. “I wish I could teleport,” she whispered. “We would have so much fun.”
Roland’s dour expression lightened with a smile. “And would get no work done whilst you talked me into gallivanting around the globe with you.”
She laughed. “True.”
He glanced around the sparse, circular room. “Where are we?”
Seth moved to stand beside David, who waited for them near the desk. “Nine stories underground in the abandoned missile silo Chris purchased and retrofitted for the network.”
Sarah examined the space curiously. “Do any vampires live here?”
“No. Though there are holding cells a few floors above us, none are currently occupied.” Any vampires the immortals tranqed who hadn’t yet descended into madness were temporarily installed in those cells. Once the drugs wore off, Seth offered them each the opportunity to remain with the Immortal Guardians so network doctors could try to end their compulsion to prey upon humans. But none of the vampires turned at Gershom’s direction had yet exhibited any interest in doing the right thing, which compelled Seth to do the right thing and kill them before they could harm more innocents.
“So why are we here?” Roland asked. The notoriously antisocial immortal might be gruff with others, but he almost always held Sarah’s hand and tenderly stroked it with his thumb as though he couldn’t resist touching her.
“You’re here,” Seth told them, “because we need weapons in our arsenal that Gershom will not expect.”
Both stared at him blankly.
David cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “We would like you, Roland, to become one of those weapons.”
“All right,” Roland agreed without hesitation. “What do you have in mind?”
His willingness to aid them didn’t surprise Seth. “There is something that only a select few immortals know. David is one. Marcus is another. Aidan knows too, and a couple of other ancient immortals who are imbued with the healing gift.”
Roland frowned. “Marcus isn’t a healer.”
“No,” Seth said, “but he was close enough to Alyssa to have divined what I’m about to tell you.”
Sarah curled her free hand around Roland’s arm and looked up at him. “Who is Alyssa? That name sounds familiar.”
“When Marcus was a boy, he served as Lord Robert’s squire,” Roland reminded her. “Robert was the younger brother of Lord Dillon, Earl of Westcott, who was one of the most powerful men in England at the time. Lord Dillon rather scandalously married his wisewoman, Alyssa.”
“Who was a healer and seer,” she finished. “Right. I remember now.”
“Gifted ones and immortals,” Seth told them, “who can heal with their hands are different in ways we don’t entirely comprehend.”
Roland tilted his head to one side. “Because when immortal healers transform gifted ones, they end up being as strong as we are instead of weaker, as is the norm?”
“That is one way, yes.”
“You heal faster, too,” Sarah mentioned. “Even when you were mortal, you healed faster.”
Seth nodded. “Healers are naturally imbued with greater regenerative properties. Even Jenna, whose bloodline has been so diluted by ordinary human DNA that she didn’t realize she had a gift, healed so quickly as a mortal that she never became ill before her transformation. But those are not the only differences.”
Roland frowned. “They aren’t?”
“No.” Seth strolled toward them. “What I’m about to tell you must remain between us.”
“All right,” Roland agreed.
“Okay,” Sarah seconded.
Seth dipped his head in acknowledgment. “When gifted ones or immortals who can heal with a touch are themselves healed by another in the same manner, they can acquire new gifts.”
Silence fell as the couple shared a look.
Roland shook his head. “You and David have both healed me many times, Seth, and I never acquired new gifts.”
“Because we both have found a way to protect you from such when we heal you. What did Marcus tell you about Alyssa the year Lord Dillon fell in love with her?”
Roland shrugged. “Not much really.”
“You know she nearly died twice.”
“Yes. I accompanied you when you gathered the gifted ones in her family together and showed them how to combine their gifts and mine to heal her so they would be able to do so when you weren’t around.”
“Do you remember what happened afterward?”
Roland’s brow furrowed as he pondered it. If he didn’t remember, Seth wouldn’t be surprised. The events had taken place in the twelfth century. Roland had just lost his granddaughter and had been grieving deeply.
Roland’s forehead smoothed out as surprise lit his features. “Marcus told me she acquired new gifts.”
David nodded. “Because you and the others did not know how to prevent her from siphoning some of your own.”
“Siphoning?”
One of David’s shoulders lifted and fell. “However you c
hoose to describe it. We believe it is similar to what happens when you heal someone else’s wound.”
“He takes it into himself,” Sarah said.
Roland continued to frown. “My gifts didn’t weaken after I healed her. Wouldn’t I have noticed if she had taken something from me?”
Seth shook his head. “Not necessarily. I freely admit we don’t know how it works, if healers actually siphon the gift or perhaps they absorb something that stimulates dormant DNA that provides them with the new gift. But after you all healed her, Alyssa possessed gifts she did not have before.”
“That’s amazing,” Sarah said.
“What we do know,” Seth continued, “is that if David and I do not withhold our gifts—for lack of a better way of explaining it—when we heal a fellow healer, that healer will change. And we cannot predict which of our gifts he or she will acquire.”
Sarah looked from Seth to David. “Have you done that before? Have you healed without restraining your power or however you want to put it?”
“Yes,” Seth answered.
David spoke up. “I was not born with the ability to shape-shift. I acquired it after Seth healed me.”
“That is so cool,” Sarah said with a smile.
David’s returning smile held a wry twist. “It didn’t seem so at the time. Seth is very powerful and boasts many more gifts than the rest of you. All of that unrestrained power flowing into you can hurt like hell.”
Roland nodded slowly. “Right. I remember that, too, now. Marcus said Alyssa appeared to be very ill after we healed her.”
“As was David,” Seth admitted, casting his friend a penitent look. “He was so ill I thought he would not survive.”
“But I did,” David said simply, “and am stronger because of it. I have no regrets.”
Seth clapped him on the back. “The same happened when I healed Aidan the first time,” he admitted. “Aidan didn’t have telekinetic abilities until then.”
“When we realized that only healers were thusly affected,” David said, “we quickly learned to harness our gifts while healing others and have done so ever since. Aidan does, too.”
Roland frowned. “I don’t.”
Seth arched a brow. “How many healers have you ministered to?” Before he’d met Sarah, Roland had led a very reclusive existence.
Roland thought about it. “Good point. I think Alyssa was the only one.”
“You also,” David pointed out, “are a great deal younger than we are.”
Sarah nodded, her face acquiring a humorously somber expression. “He is. Roland is only nine hundred and fifty years old, give or take a decade. A mere babe in the woods.”
Chuckling, Roland pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Seth smiled. “We, on the other hand, have lived thousands of years, as has Aidan. Because you’re so much younger, Roland, you only possess two gifts—healing and telekinesis. And your telekinetic abilities aren’t nearly as strong as an ancient’s.”
“True,” Roland conceded. “Apparently they aren’t strong enough to pass along, otherwise Jenna would likely have gained that ability.”
“Oh,” Sarah said. “Right.” Her brow furrowed as she looked at Seth and David. “Did she acquire that ability?”
“No. We noticed no changes after Roland transformed her.”
Roland shared a look with his wife. “Could you be mistaken then in believing healers can gain new abilities?”
Seth shook his head. “I think it more likely that a mere blood exchange does not spark the change. You didn’t heal Jenna, Roland. You drained her blood then infused her with your own.”
“But,” David added, “it has been long enough that I thought we should test our theory and confirm it still held true. So we did.”
Roland raised his brows. “And?”
Seth turned to his second-in-command. “Show them.”
David offered them a brief bow, then vanished.
Sarah’s mouth dropped open as she looked around the room. “Is he moving so quickly that I can’t see him or did he just teleport away?”
David reappeared on the other side of the room with a neatly folded pile of clothing in his hands. Bright white snowflakes now dusted his dreadlocks.
Sarah jumped, startled by his sudden reappearance. “Well, that answers that,” she said with a laugh.
Roland’s eyes widened. “You can teleport?”
David smiled. “I can now.” Until a few months ago, he had lacked that ability.
“Which brings us,” Seth said, “to the answer to your question, Roland: why you are here. I would like you to become one of those weapons I mentioned that Gershom will not expect. With your permission—and only if Sarah agrees—I would like to fatally wound you, then heal you without harnessing my gifts.”
Sarah blanched.
Roland turned to face her and cupped her face in his hands. “You know I have to do this.”
Swallowing hard, she curled her hands around his wrists and clung. “David is a lot older than you. What if that’s what enabled him to survive it?”
He brushed his thumbs across her pale cheeks. “Alyssa was born a century after I was, and she survived it.”
Sarah shook her head. “She was healed by you and her family, not by Seth.” Her hazel eyes clouded with worry as they met Seth’s. “Can you guarantee he’ll survive?”
“Yes,” he replied. “It will be painful, both the wound I will inflict and what he will experience in the days that follow. But he will survive and, at the end of it, be stronger.”
“The gifts he already possesses,” David said, “will be more powerful. And he will acquire others that he can hone and use in battle as I have.”
Sarah stared into her husband’s eyes. “I’m scared.”
“I know, sweetling. But Gershom seems to be well versed in all of our individual gifts. Our strengths. Our weaknesses. This would be a hell of a surprise to spring on him, one we could use to our advantage.”
Face still pale, she nodded. “Okay. I love you.”
Roland kissed her. “I love you, too.” He turned to Seth. “Shall we do it now?”
“Yes. That’s why David has brought you a change of clothing. We’ll take you to David’s home afterward so he can watch over you as you recover, and we don’t want Michael to be frightened by the blood.” Seth looked at Sarah. “Roland will be bedridden for a few days. You’ll have to cover for him if Marcus and the others ask why he’s not around. When you both remain out of sight, they will assume you are either hunting or spending time alone. But when they see you without him multiple times, they’ll begin to wonder. He tends to stick pretty closely to you.”
Roland wrapped an arm around her. “Just tell them being around so many people all the time was starting to aggravate me, so I’m doing my hermit thing. Since they already think I’m antisocial, they’ll accept that readily enough. Even Marcus will, because he routinely asks me how I’m holding up now that we practically live at David’s.”
She drew in a deep breath and forced a smile. “Okay. I’ll tell them you’re taking a break from all the family hoopla. And if I have to ask Ami, Marcus, or Sheldon to watch Michael for us, I’ll tell them I’ve tied you to the bed and plan to spend a few hours doing wicked things to you.”
Roland laughed. “Either answer will swiftly silence their questions.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, then turned to Seth. “All right. Let’s do this.”
Seth drew a long dagger.
Roland gently eased Sarah away from him.
Dread pooling in his stomach, Seth closed the distance between them. “I’d say this is going to hurt me more than it will you, but…”
“You’d be talking out of your arse,” Roland said with a smile. “Just do it and get it over with.”
“So be it.” Lunging forward, Seth drove the dagger deep into Roland’s chest and gave the blade a sharp twist.
Roland grunted, pain tightening his features.
Beside hi
m, Sarah cried out.
David appeared behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, preventing her from leaping forward.
Roland staggered and braced a hand on Seth’s shoulder. His breathing grew labored as blood painted his teeth. “You call that… a wound?” He wheezed and shook his head. “Give me all you’ve got… you pansy.”
David chuckled.
Seth would have, too, if he hadn’t felt Roland’s body already hurrying to heal the wound. Even the fact that the blade had pierced his lung and nicked his heart wouldn’t prove fatal to an immortal healer Roland’s age. Seth would have to inflict more damage.
Steeling himself, he yanked the blade out, drew it across Roland’s throat, then buried it in his stomach, severing the abdominal aorta and damaging organs.
Sarah began to weep.
Roland’s knees buckled as he gripped his abdomen.
Yanking the dagger out, Seth dropped it and wrapped his arms around Roland. He gently lowered him until the immortal lay on the floor. “Forgive me, my friend.”
Roland managed to shake his head, his eyes telling Seth not to worry about it, that he trusted him. And trust did not come easily to Roland.
The British immortal raised a shaking hand and tapped his temple with one bloody finger.
What is it? Seth asked him telepathically.
I can take more damage, just do it quickly for Sarah’s sake.
No. This should suffice. Because the virus was rushing to repair the damaged organs and struggling to keep Roland’s heart beating, it couldn’t stem the flow of blood.
The more I’m wounded, the more healing energy you have to pour into me, right? Roland thought.
Yes.
Then fuck me up some more before you heal me. Just don’t let me die.
Lips tightening, Seth retrieved his blade. As you wish.
Leah’s cell phone rang. Abandoning the box she was cutting open, she glanced at the display. Her heart began to pound as she answered. “Hi, Seth.”
“What are you up to tonight?” He had the most delicious voice, so deep and resonant.
“Work, as usual,” she admitted with a grimace. “What about you?”
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