Darkness Rises ig-4

by Dianne Duvall

  And he wanted to be the one to do it. But he wanted her to be safe even more. “Okay. Then mull this over. When we first met, I came to your rescue each time you were in over your head. And,” he continued when she started to protest, “you were in over your head. Even you know you would have been killed coming up against the numbers of vampires you did if I hadn’t jumped into the fray and aided you.”

  She frowned. “I know. It’s just galling to admit it.”

  “Well, if Roland transformed you, our positions could very well reverse. You could be the one coming to my rescue when things got rough, because you would be stronger than I am.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Okay, I won’t lie. That does sound good.”

  “Then you’ll consider it?”

  She sighed. “I guess.”

  “Don’t think that I don’t want to transform you myself. Because I do. I just want you to be safe and don’t want my selfish desires to impede that.”

  “Okay.” She still seemed disappointed.

  Reaching up, he brushed her hair back from her face. “Why is it so important to you that I transform you?”

  “Sean told me how it’s done and . . .” She squeezed his hand. “If someone else’s blood is going to flow through my body, I want it to be yours.”

  His hand tightened around her fragile fingers as his body went rock hard. “Would you think me strange if I told you that turns me on?”

  She smiled. “A little bit, but I don’t mind.”

  Grinning, he yanked her into his arms and fell backward onto the sheets.

  She laughed as her hair fell down around them in a silky curtain, closing them off from the rest of the world.

  “You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured.

  “I find that hard to believe. You’ve lived for two hundred years.” And she wasn’t fishing for compliments. She really didn’t seem to understand her own worth, how unique and exceptional she was.

  “It’s true,” he vowed. “Sometimes I fear this might all be a wonderful dream from which I will soon awaken.”

  She kissed his stubbled chin. “If it is, I don’t want to wake up.”

  He hugged her close. “I’ve been lonely for so long, Krysta,” he admitted.

  “I have, too,” she said softly.

  “I’ve waited two hundred years for you.”

  “I hope I can live up to your expectations,” she murmured, brow furrowing.

  He shook his head. “You’ve already surpassed the fantasies and expectations I compiled over the decades and centuries.”

  She smirked. “You don’t want much, do you? Just a skinny girl to aggravate you every once in a while and put your life in danger?”

  “You don’t aggravate me, you entertain me. Endangering my life keeps me on my toes. And I don’t know why you have issues with your body. The only issue I have with it is that it’s clothed far too often.”

  Laughing, she wrinkled her nose. “I was mocked throughout high school for being flat-chested and spent four years watching every male except my fiancé, who was just my boyfriend back then, drool over all the girls with big boobs. So it’s hard not to be self-conscious.” Her face lit with an Ah-ha! expression. “Hey! When I’m transformed, will the virus make me beautiful like Sarah, Lisette, Melanie, and Jenna?”

  “You already are beautiful,” he declared. He loved the way she looked.

  She pouted. “It won’t change my appearance?”

  “No. If you were older, the virus would reverse the damage aging had wrought and make you young again.”

  She smiled. “Jenna seems very excited about her gray hair having turned brown again.”

  He grinned. “Yes, she is.”

  “But it won’t change my shape?”

  He shook his head. “If you were emaciated, the virus would rebuild the muscle mass you had lost, heal the damage done, and render you a healthy weight once more. If you were obese, the virus would swiftly burn through your fat stores—”

  “Let me guess. Heal the damage done?”

  “Yes, and render you a healthy weight. Since you’re neither, there should be no noticeable difference.”

  “So . . . no big boobs?”

  “No big boobs. Not that you need them.”

  She grimaced. “It just would have been nice to have an hourglass figure that wasn’t achieved by wearing a stiff, uncomfortable push-up bra.”

  “I prefer no bra to a push-up bra, at least around me,” he mentioned.

  “You are so easy to please,” she said with a smile, wiggling from side to side atop him in a way that sent shocks of pleasure darting through him.

  His voice deepened. “And you please me endlessly.”

  Her look turned flirtatious. “You know, the rest of me may not be too much to brag about, but I do happen to have a lovely mouth.” Lowering her lips to his chest, she tongued his nipple and delivered a love bite.

  He hissed in a breath, pulse leaping. “Yes, you do.”

  She moved to the other nipple and repeated the gestures. “A very talented mouth.”

  Mmmm. “Do tell.”

  She sent him a provocative smile. “You sound doubtful.”

  Étienne was surprised he could make any sound at all beyond a moan as she slid down his body, her satin skin teasing his cock, and kissed his belly.

  “Perhaps a demonstration is in order?” she suggested innocently, dipping her tongue into his navel.

  He nodded. “A demonstration. Yes, please.”

  With a sultry laugh, she curled her fingers around the base of his shaft and gave the tip straining toward her a long lick.

  Étienne groaned and buried his hands in her hair, fire igniting his blood as she circled him with her tongue, then drew him into her warm, wet, admittedly talented mouth.

  Krysta hummed as a litany of French poured forth from Étienne’s lips. He was beautiful, muscles rippling, head arching back, face flushing with pleasure. Pleasure that soon swept through her as she coaxed him toward a climax. Her breath shortened as she continued to tease and torment him with her lips and tongue and fingers. She was so wet. She could almost feel him inside her, thrusting deep.

  Étienne suddenly released her hair and grabbed her arms. Dragging her up, he rolled her beneath him and plunged inside her.

  Crying out, Krysta clamped her hands on his ass and drew him in deep, urging him on as he began to move, thrusting and withdrawing, rocking against her, hitting all the right spots.

  “Like it?” he growled in her ear as he slid a hand to her breast and pinched her sensitive nipple.

  She nodded, too breathless to speak. Yes.

  “Want more?”

  Again she nodded. Hell, yes.

  He withdrew, rearing back onto his knees.

  She opened her mouth to protest and gasped as, instead, he flipped her over onto her hands and knees, then plunged into her again, taking her from behind.

  Oh, yeah!

  A low laugh vibrated her back as he buried his lips in her hair, seeking and finding the base of her neck as he fondled her breasts with one hand and slid the other down over her stomach to delve into the curls beneath and stroke her clit.

  Krysta never would have described herself as being noisy in bed until that moment. Sounds of pleasure emerged with every breath, every thrust, until a climax ripped through her, her body clenching and unclenching around his.

  Étienne’s grip tightened almost to the point of pain as he found his own release.

  The two collapsed onto the sheets. Krysta barely had time to acknowledge just how heavy all of that muscle was before he rolled them to their sides and spooned around her.

  Several minutes passed as they regained their breath. Little aftershocks of pleasure continued to dart through her. She didn’t think she had ever had such an intense orgasm.

  “And I didn’t even get to show you how talented my mouth is,” he murmured into her hair.

  She smiled. “Next time.”r />
  Étienne felt a twinge of nerves as he dialed Seth’s number.

  “Yes?” Seth answered on the second ring. Once more, his voice was accompanied by the sounds of battle.

  “It’s Étienne. Are you busy?”

  “A bit. What’s up?”

  Étienne glanced at Krysta, who stared back with furrowed brow as she bit her lower lip. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Go ahead.”

  A scream of pain rent the air in the background.

  “Are you sure this isn’t a bad time?”

  “Hold on. Friedrich, haben Sie diese?”

  “Ja.”

  “Ich werde bald wiederkommen.” Seth appeared beside Étienne, a bloody katana in one hand. He nodded a greeting to Krysta. “What’s up?”

  Étienne pocketed his phone. “Krysta would like to be transformed.”

  “Okay.”

  Étienne waited for him to say more.

  The silence stretched as Seth stared at him expectantly.

  “That’s it?” Étienne asked. “Just . . . okay?”

  “Yes. Anything else?”

  More silence.

  Étienne met Krysta’s confused gaze, then looked at Seth. “I don’t get it.”

  Seth arched a brow. “What’s not to get? She wants to be transformed and I have no objection to it.”

  “Oh. I guess I just thought that there was more to it than that. That you would want to read her mind or something.”

  “Normally, I would read her mind to ensure this was what she truly wanted rather than a hasty decision or that she wasn’t being pressured into it. But I actually saw this coming.”

  “What?”

  Krysta took a step forward. “What do you mean?”

  “Occasionally I get glimpses of the future. Krysta becoming immortal was one of those glimpses, which is why I felt no guilt when I urged her in that direction by repeatedly pointing out that—because she’s mortal—she’s a liability.”

  Krysta frowned. “I’ve really come to hate that word.”

  Seth shrugged. “Did it help you reach your decision more quickly?”

  “Yes,” she grumbled, “but I still don’t like it.”

  He smiled. “Ahhhh. She already sounds like an immortal.”

  Étienne laughed. “We’re all a pain in your ass, aren’t we?”

  “Just so. Now, if you will forgive me, I need to return to the battle before Friedrich is overrun.” He bowed. “Welcome to the family, Krysta. If you have any questions about the transformation, what will happen or how long it will take, I’m sure Dr. Lipton would be happy to answer them for you.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Étienne offered Seth his hand. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Seth shook his hand and clapped him on the back, then vanished.

  Étienne met Krysta’s gaze. “Looks like we have the go-ahead.”

  She nodded. “I expected there to be more to it, too. I thought we’d have to plead our case or something.”

  “Seth is an enigma.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Are you sure he’s an immortal?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “His aura is different.”

  “How so?”

  Her gaze roved him. “Your aura is a combination of purple and white that swirls and mingles, but never blends.”

  “Really? Is that different from vampires’ auras?”

  She nodded. “Vampires’ auras are orange. Human auras vary according to health and mood. Auras of immortals and vampires don’t.”

  “So how is Seth’s different?”

  “There’s no purple. It’s just pure white. Almost blindingly white. It’s actually quite beautiful.”

  Étienne frowned. “All immortals have purple in their auras except for Seth?”

  “Yes.”

  He pondered that a moment. He had never questioned it before. Seth had gifts like all of them. His eyes glowed when he was gripped by strong emotion like theirs did. He had fangs . . . didn’t he?

  Now that he thought about it, Étienne couldn’t recall ever having seen any on the eldest immortal. “Does David’s aura contain purple?”

  “Yes, but only a sliver. I thought he was like Seth at first, then saw the purple.”

  “Perhaps it’s just an age thing.”

  “I suppose so,” she conceded. “Roland has more white in his aura than you and Richart do.”

  He relaxed. “That’s it, then. And, speaking of Roland, would you like me to go ahead and give him a call?”

  “Yes, please.” She crossed to him and leaned into his side. “I still wish it could be you.”

  He kissed her tempting lips. “Me, too.”

  His call went straight to voice mail. “Roland, it’s Étienne. Give me a call when you receive this.” He started to put his phone away, then paused. “Let me try Sarah. Those two are rarely apart. Maybe Roland is just being his usual antisocial self and not answering because he doesn’t want to talk to anyone.” He dialed Sarah’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “Sarah?”

  “Yes?”

  “Hi. It’s Étienne.”

  “Hi,” she said, with what sounded like false enthusiasm. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. I’m trying to reach Roland. Is he there?”

  “Um . . . no. He’s . . .” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s avoiding you.”

  “I can hear you,” Roland said in the background.

  “Damn it!”

  Étienne frowned. “Why is he avoiding me?”

  “He’s thinks you’re going to ask him to transform Krysta.”

  “I am going to ask him to transform Krysta.”

  Roland’s voice came over the phone. “Not going to happen.”

  The line went dead.

  Swearing, Étienne dialed her number again.

  “Hello?” Sarah answered innocently, as though she didn’t know who was calling.

  “Put him on,” Étienne said.

  Roland let loose a stream of epithets in the background.

  “I’m . . . not going to repeat that,” Sarah said.

  “You don’t have to,” Étienne told her. “Look, I know he’s antisocial, but—”

  “It isn’t just that,” she said, lowering her voice.

  “Then what?”

  “He found out that . . .”

  “What?” he prodded.

  She sighed. “The guys on theimmortalguardians.com website are calling him The Transformer. Like the robots.”

  More foul epithets from Roland. “I will not be disrespected!”

  “I’m sure they don’t mean it as an insult,” Étienne lied. Roland wasn’t a favorite amongst immortals because of his . . . personality and his tendency to terrorize any Seconds sent to serve him, so any gossip that concerned him on the website tended to be unflattering.

  “Yes, they do,” she said. “I’m as furious as he is. Roland should be applauded for helping those he transformed, myself included, and the guys on the net are all being dicks about it.”

  Étienne’s eyebrows flew up as Roland burst into laughter in the background.

  “What?” Sarah demanded. “I can’t curse? It pisses me off.”

  “I understand,” Étienne said, wondering how he could spin this and change Roland’s mind. “But I don’t think Krysta should have to—”

  “I’m not doing it,” Roland insisted. “Three is my limit.”

  “But—”

  Rustling sounded.

  “Roland,” Sarah warned, her voice fading, “don’t you dare smash my—”

  The line went dead.

  Étienne tucked his phone away. “Roland isn’t terribly enthusiastic about the idea.”

  Stepping back, Krysta smiled and shrugged. “Then it’ll be you after all. Good.”

  “Give me one more chance to win him over. Everyone has been sticking pretty close to David’s when they aren’t hunting. We can go by there later
and see if I can’t change his mind.”

  “Okay, but I don’t think you’re going to have any luck. Everyone I talk to says Roland is as stubborn as a mule.”

  “And they’re right. But Seth and David will be there and might urge him along.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Maybe I’ll buy Sarah a new phone as a peace offering,” he mused.

  “What happened to her old one?”

  “I’m pretty sure Roland just destroyed it.”

  “Yeah. Good luck changing his mind.”

  “Come on, Roland,” Étienne urged. “Do it for me.”

  Leaning against the bar that separated David’s dining room and kitchen, Roland crossed his arms over his chest. “And I owe you what?”

  Richart, Jenna, Lisette, Tracy, Sheldon, and Cam formed a horseshoe around them. Ethan, Edward, Yuri, Stanislov, and their four Seconds stood just behind them and watched over their shoulders.

  Étienne swore silently. “Then do it for Krysta.”

  “And I owe her what?”

  Patience fraying, Étienne gestured to Jenna and Richart. “You turned Jenna for Richart.”

  “I turned Jenna because she’s my descendant.”

  Cam looked at Jenna and Richart. “Is that why Richart keeps calling you Gramps?”

  Roland glared daggers at Richart.

  “How do you know Krysta isn’t your descendant?” Étienne asked. It was a stretch, but . . .

  “Because I keep track of them,” Roland responded.

  Sarah stood sentinel beside her husband and frowned at their audience. “You see? I told you he has a big heart. He’s been watching over them all this time.”

  “Keeping track isn’t the same as watching over them,” Roland murmured.

  Sarah elbowed him. “Give me my moment, honey. I’m defending you.”

  He smiled.

  “Roland,” Étienne said, “you must understand my position. I want Krysta to be as strong as possible so she’ll be as safe as possible.”

  “I’m an Immortal Guardian,” Roland said, unmoved. “I hunt and destroy vampires. I am not a transformer.”

  A few snickers sounded.

  Étienne growled in frustration and dragged his hands through his hair.

  Marcus smiled and shook his head as he looked at the immortals around him. “I told you not to fuck with him. What if you’re the next one who falls in love with a gifted one? Wouldn’t you want him to transform her, as Étienne does, so she would be stronger and safer? You all just screwed yourselves for a laugh.”