Étienne straightened as blood filled his veins. He lowered the bag and nodded at Lisette. “Did you read their thoughts?”
“Just the one I fought. I found nothing there.”
“No plans? No image of the one who recruited or trained him? Nothing unusual?”
She shook her head. “Not a thing. Just anger and pain and a determination to kick my ass.”
He frowned.
Richart approached her. “Let me take you home.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“You aren’t fine. You look like shit.”
“Well, I don’t feel like it,” she snapped. “And I don’t want to leave my Busa behind.”
“I’ll come back for your damned motorcycle,” he said.
“As rarely as you ride? I wouldn’t trust you to get it to me in one piece.”
“I can teleport it.”
“And collapse afterward because it took so much energy? Forget it.”
“I’ll do it,” Étienne spoke up. “Let Richart teleport you home so you can get more blood in you. I’ll ride your bike to your place while you heal.”
And have him run into Zach? Hell no. “You need to see to your own wounds.”
Krysta looked at Jenna. “I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle. Do you?”
“No.”
“I could fetch Roland to heal you,” Richart suggested.
“He still hurls daggers at you whenever you surprise him.”
“Then Seth or David.”
Hell no. “Stop fussing over me,” Lisette griped and sheathed her shoto swords. “I’m a grown woman and can take care of myself.”
Krysta raised her eyebrows. “I know that tone,” she said with a wry smile. “It’s the my brothers are treating me like a baby and driving me crazy tone. Sean used to wear my last nerve sometimes, worrying over me.”
Jenna smiled. “Sons do the same thing. John still worries over me.” She looked up at Richart. “You know, women are just as tough as men.”
“I’m aware of that,” her husband retorted.
“And yet I noticed you aren’t urging Étienne to let you teleport him home or take him to a healer, and he looks as bad as Lisette.”
Girl power! Lisette thought.
Richart and Étienne both held up their hands, unwilling to debate the physical equality of the sexes.
“Fine,” Richart said. “Just call Tracy when you get home and let her know you arrived safely.”
“I will,” Lisette agreed, happy to be able to head home without them. “Will you catch Seth up on what happened?” Avoiding the elder felt wrong, but he had come very close to questioning her earlier. She didn’t want to risk it again.
Or risk him smelling Zach on her after she had rubbed up against him earlier.
“Of course,” Étienne said. “We’re heading over there later anyway.”
“Thank you.” Lisette forced herself not to limp as she crossed to her bike. Clenching her teeth against the pain, she straddled the Busa and donned her helmet.
Krysta and Jenna returned to the subject of powerful women and stubborn men.
Starting the engine, Lisette tossed them all a wave and began the long ride home.
Wings tucked away, Zach listened to the night creatures sing their songs as he waited for Lisette to return. He had taken a chance and made himself at home. Mostly. Instead of perching on the roof, he sat on the front steps. His ass on the porch, he shifted his feet on one of the planks two or three steps below and rested his elbows on his knees.
It felt odd. Almost as if he were a guest. A welcome guest.
Frankly, he would feel much more comfortable pulling gargoyle duty, but thought Lisette might object if she caught him doing it again.
His lips quirked as he recalled the fury on her face when she had stepped outside David’s sprawling home earlier, looked up, and seen him occupying his usual spot on the roof. It had been so hard not to laugh when she had pointed that accusatory finger at him and jerked her thumb over her shoulder, telling him to get the hell out of there.
She made him feel so much that was new to him.
All these millennia of existing, and he hadn’t really begun to live until he had laid eyes on Lisette d’Alençon.
The faint rumble of a motorcycle reached his ears.
His smile widened. (He’d been smiling more, too, since he’d encountered her.)
Sitting straighter, he rubbed his palms against the soft leather covering his knees.
Would she let him kiss her again? Touch her?
His stomach fluttered with anticipation, then sank to the ground when she turned onto the long drive leading to him and he caught the scent of her blood. His smile vanished.
Her motorcycle’s headlight flickered in and out of sight, brightening the brush and trees she passed. The engine slowed as she came around a bend and showered him with light.
Squinting, Zach threw up a hand to shield his eyes and rose. Down the steps he strode, his concern growing with each pace.
She parked the bike and removed her helmet. Her clothes were saturated. He had seen them so before, but usually it was with vampire blood. Nearly all of that which painted her now was her own.
“Lisette?”
She offered him a tired smile, swung her right leg over the back of the bike, and dismounted, her movements stiff. “I needed that tonight.”
“Needed what?” It looked as if someone had slashed her throat.
“To find you here waiting for me when I got home.” Her smile broadened the slightest bit. “And not on the roof.”
Bending, he whisked her up into his arms.
She sighed. “Thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to climbing those steps.”
His heart skipped a beat when she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck, snuggling close. “What happened?”
“We came up against some of the new irritatingly proficient vampires.”
“We, meaning . . . ?” Hollow thuds echoed in the night as he climbed the steps and crossed to the front door.
“Étienne, Krysta, and I.” Reaching down, she came up with some keys, unlocked the door, and turned the knob. “Well, Étienne and Krysta did. Then Étienne summoned me to help them.”
Zach shouldered open the door and entered her home. “Why didn’t you use the sedative?”
“They caught me on the way to the network. I didn’t have time to pick any up before I went to their aid.”
Two beeps emanated from the alarm touchpad set into the wall.
He kicked the door closed.
Two more beeps.
Lisette punched in her access code and stopped the beeps. “By the way, I always leave the indoor motion sensors off when I set the alarm. Tracy does, too. Otherwise Richart will set the alarm off when he teleports in.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want you to feel free to teleport inside any time you want to, instead of waiting on the front porch. Just listen first to ensure Tracy isn’t home.”
He stared down at her.
“What?”
He shook his head. She didn’t know how rare her invitation was. Or the trust it indicated.
“Anyway,” she continued, “Richart had some auto-injectors, but he and Jenna weren’t able to join us until right after the last vampire fell.”
“Do you need blood?” He could feel her trembling.
“Yes.”
He headed into the living room and started to lower her onto the sofa.
“Not the sofa,” she protested. “I don’t want to get blood all over it. I’ll be fine, sitting at the kitchen table.”
How much blood had she lost?
Zach carried her into the kitchen, telekinetically drew a wooden chair back from the table, and gently lowered her onto it.
“Thank you,” she said with another smile.
Uncertain how to reply, he turned to open the refrigerator door.
She laughed as
he drew out the specially designed drawer she kept blood in and took out a trio of bags. “Sometimes you remind me so much of Roland.”
Closing both the drawer and the door, he returned to her. “The immortal who tried to choke me with a piano wire?” Zach set the bags on the table and drew out the chair catty-corner to her.
“He was only looking out for Marcus.” Sending him a contrite smile, she picked up a bag. “And, if you’re going to blame someone for capturing and interrogating you, blame me. It was pretty much my idea.”
It had happened months ago, after Lisette had caught Zach secretly conversing with Ami.
He seated himself and scooted a little closer. “You were worried about Ami. I can’t fault you for that.” And the interrogation had allowed him to speak to her directly for the first time.
She held the bag with one hand and sank her fangs into it. Her other arm rested on the table.
Zach didn’t know how long it would take the virus to heal her wounds once her blood supply was replenished, but didn’t wish to wait. Reaching out, he took her free hand in his own.
He heard her heart begin to beat faster at the contact, racing to match the increased thumping of his own. Raising her hand, still sticky in places with congealing blood, to his lips, he pressed a kiss to it, then covered it with his other hand.
Healing warmth grew within him and traveled from his body into hers.
Her breath caught.
He cursed mentally as his mind filled with an inventory of her injuries and images of the battle that had inflicted them.
His hands acquired a slight glow.
Face flushing, eyes wide, Lisette lowered the now-empty blood bag she held and stared at him. The tightness in her face eased as her wounds closed and healed. Yet her breath shortened.
The glow in his hands faded, as did the warmth. Once more, Zach raised her hand to his lips for a kiss.
“Did you . . . did you just heal me?” she asked, her lovely eyes now lit with amber.
“Yes.” Every cut, puncture, bruise, and abrasion.
“Is that all you did?”
“Yes.” When she continued to stare at him, he frowned. “Why?”
“Roland and Seth have healed me I don’t know how many times over the centuries. David, too. But their touch . . . their healing warmth . . . never made me feel the way yours just did.”
“How did mine make you feel?” he asked, unsure what those lovely eyes reflected.
“Like I want to tear your pants off, strip naked, and explore the Kama Sutra with you.”
Zach stared at her, his body going rock hard as flames ignited within him. “My healing touch made you desire me?” He had never heard of such a thing.
“I desired you before you healed me,” she said without missing a beat. “Now?” Her heated gaze roved him like a pair of hands. “Now I want to lick every inch of you.”
His hands tightened around hers. All of the reasons he should keep her at a distance slunk back into the dark recesses of his mind as he imagined her doing just that and wondered how fucking fantastic it would feel.
A faint tremor shook her hand.
“You still need blood,” he whispered, struggling to keep his head.
She blinked. Something like hurt flickered in her eyes before she lowered them and reached for a second bag.
When she tried to withdraw the hand he held, Zach clung to it. “Lisette, that wasn’t a rejection.”
She sank her fangs into the bag.
“I care about you,” he went on, floundering and searching for a way to make her understand. “Your welfare will always come first with me. Your safety. Your comfort. It’s why I accompanied you to David’s. And why I didn’t pounce upon your offer, which I didn’t even know was an offer, just now. Your hand is cold. I felt you tremble and knew you needed blood. If my timing was off . . .”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “It was a pretty blatant offer.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never done this before and am clearly not well versed in it.”
She lowered the empty bag. “Never done what?”
He took the bag from her and set it on the table beside the others. “I was going to say court a woman, but I don’t think endangering a woman’s life, then asking her to continue to risk it by consorting with me counts as a courtship.”
She squeezed his hand. “You didn’t ask me to risk my life. Aside from wanting me to pick up some of the sedative earlier tonight, I don’t think you’ve asked a single thing of me.”
“You know what I mean,” he murmured. “Seth doesn’t want you anywhere near me. You know the danger of betraying him.”
“And I told you it’s a risk I’m willing to take to know more of you.”
“Why?” he asked helplessly.
“Because I’ve lived for over two hundred years and haven’t felt this alive, this eager to greet each new night, since I was mortal. You make me feel things I never thought I would again, Zach.”
The mere possibility astounded him. “And you make me feel things I never thought I could.”
Her blood-streaked face filled with a tenderness he had never known as she stroked his fingers with her thumb.
Zach handed her another bag of blood.
Smiling, she took it. “Do you also take refuge in seeing to my safety and health when you aren’t sure what to say or do next?”
“Yes.” As much as she risked for him, she deserved honesty.
Chuckling, she sank her fangs into the bag and emptied it. Her fingers warmed. The tremors ceased. She set the bag on the table.
“Do you need more?” he asked, ready to fetch it if she did.
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
Yes, she was. Too good for him.
Chapter Eight
Lisette watched Zach gather the empty blood bags and rise.
Her eyes widened as he turned away and walked in that long, languid stride of his over to the trash can to dispose of them.
He hadn’t been lying. Or trying to make her feel better when his not “pouncing” on her offer had felt like a slap in the face. He really did want her. The evidence of it strained against the front of his leather pants.
Lisette didn’t think she had ever desired a man more.
Grabbing the clean towel hanging over the sink, he held it under the faucet until the cool water ran warm. His broad muscled back, bereft of wings tonight, begged for her touch.
“Where are your wings?”
He shut off the water and approached the table. “I tucked them away once I arrived.” Seating himself once more, he scooted his chair even closer until their knees brushed. “I admit I did so because I wanted you to see me as a man.”
No problem there. “I’ve always seen you as a man.”
“A normal man,” he clarified. Clasping her chin in gentle fingers, he drew the soft damp cloth over her cheek, wiping away the blood that dirtied it.
The tender action touched her far more than flowers and chocolates would have. “I wouldn’t know normal if it bit me in the ass. I’m not normal myself and never have been.”
A smile lit his usually somber features as he shifted his attention to her other cheek. “I wish you could understand how surreal this is for me.”
“How surreal what is?” she asked, wanting to understand.
“Sitting here with you in your cozy kitchen, the night’s silence surrounding us. Talking with you. Touching you.” He found a clean corner of the cloth to apply to her forehead. “Seeing the warmth in your eyes when you look at me, the . . . affection?” The last was spoken with uncertainty.
She nodded. “At the very least.”
“I’m sure it all seems very unremarkable to you.”
Like hell.
“But every aspect of it is new to me,” he continued.
Every aspect of it?
“Zach,” she began, then paused while he drew the cloth across her nose and upper lip. Her chin. Down he
r neck, a scowl creasing his brow as he cleaned the soft flesh the vampire had sliced open. “You said you’ve never courted a woman before . . .”
“Yes.” Rising, he returned to the sink, rinsed the blood out of the towel, and draped it over the center divider.
“Does that mean you’ve never . . . ?” How should she put this?
Swiveling to face her, he leaned back against the counter and rested his hands on the edge of it on either side of his hips. “Lain with a woman?”
Lisette nodded and awaited his response with bated breath.
“Yes.”
She stared at him. Zach had never made love with a woman. “You’re thousands of years old.” A stupid comment, she mentally berated herself. Zach knew how old he was.
“That’s correct.”
“How exactly does one go that long without . . . ?”
“Ask Seth,” he countered.
“Seth was married once and had children. You told me yourself.”
“But he has, to the best of my knowledge, remained celibate since the death of his wife.”
It boggled the mind. It really did. Both men were incredibly handsome and radiated sex appeal. They could’ve easily gotten laid every night of the year. In any time period.
“I’ve shocked you.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
He shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. “So much for appearing normal.”
“Normal is overrated,” she told him. “If you had slept with one woman per year, which is definitely below the norm by today’s standards, you would have slept with thousands of women by now. That is not an appealing thought,” she concluded. “Guys may think it cool. But every woman I know would think it . . . gross.”
He shook his head. “You are forever trying to put me at ease.”
“I am forever prying and putting my foot in my mouth. I don’t ever want you to feel uncomfortable around me, Zach. And . . . I won’t lie. I’m also trying to distract myself from eagerly volunteering to be your first.”
His hands tightened on the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening. “You want to be my lover?”
Night Unbound Page 14