Etienne’s brown eyes flashed amber.
Sean sighed. “No offense, but this is one of the reasons I want my own place.”
She smiled, still drinking in her fiancE. “You look hot.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“It is for me,” she professed, looking him up and down again.
“I’m not overdressed, am I?”
Probably, but she wasn’t going to say anything. She wanted to spend the rest of the night, as Sean said, drooling over him. She’d just go put on something dressy herself to even things out.
“No. I haven’t changed yet. I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes.” As she moved to squeeze past him in the doorway, she rose onto her toes, looped her arms around his neck, and took his lips in a long, passionate, I-wish-I-could-strip-you-naked-and-have-my-way-with-you-right-here-right-now kiss.
He groaned when she pulled away.
“I mussed your hair,” she murmured and left him gazing after her with glowing eyes full of desire.
And adorably mussed hair.
Forty minutes later, his hair was once more tamed, she was squeezed into a little black dress and heels, and Sean wore slacks and a dress shirt. Together, the three strode up the sidewalk in front of a modest middle-class home parked on a nice-sized plot of land in the country outside of Carrboro.
When they reached the front porch, she turned to smile up at Etienne and did a double take. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” he said, fidgeting inside his suit jacket and smoothing a lapel. “Why?”
“Your eyes are glowing.”
“They are?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Okay.” He closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. His lids lifted. “What about now?”
“Still glowing.”
He swore, then closed his eyes again. Breathed deeply.
Sean caught her eye and raised his brows.
Krysta shrugged. No bulge strained against the front of Etienne’s slacks, so it wasn’t lust.
He opened his eyes. “What about now?”
“Still glowing.”
Again he swore and repeated the process.
“Sweetie, you aren’t nervous, are you?”
“Of course not.”
On the other side of him, Sean mouthed, “Yes, he is.”
This time, when Etienne’s lids lifted, they revealed warm brown eyes bereft of the glow. “Now?”
“You’re good.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
She rang the doorbell.
Footsteps approached from inside. The locks turned. The door swung open.
Krysta donned a bright smile. “Hi, Mom!”
Wings spread, Zach rode the breeze, swooping and twirling as he raced the motorcycle eating up the asphalt below.
The slender figure guiding it nearly scraped her knee on the pavement as she leaned into a curve, taking it far too fast. Her long, midnight braid flapped and danced in the wind, bouncing off the sheathed shoto swords strapped to her back.
Garbed all in black, she wasn’t wearing her long coat tonight and, no doubt, would have generated a great deal of attention if any other drivers on the road could keep up with her long enough to notice the multitude of weapons she bore.
Slowing, she turned onto David’s drive and stopped before the security gate.
Zach’s gaze lingered on her long legs, outlined nicely by fitted cargo pants, as she straddled the bike and typed in the code.
When the gate swung open, she shot forward once more.
Zach swept his wings down, propelling himself forward and following her progress through breaks in the trees that formed a canopy between them.
Completely distracted, he nearly crashed into a large owl. Feathers flew as the owl panicked. Talons threatened. Zach banked, reversed, dodged, and lost sight of Lisette. By the time he caught up with her, she had stowed her helmet away and was striding up the walk to David’s front door.
He waited until she entered, then spread his wings and gently floated down to the rooftop.
A heavy weight slammed into his middle, knocking the breath from him, breaking several ribs, and lifting him from the roof.
North Carolina vanished, replaced by icy tundra being swept clean by a blizzard.
Zach grunted in pain as his back slammed down into a glacial surface as hard as stone. Several bones in the wings he hadn’t had time to retract broke, snapping like twigs. Ice pellets peppered him, stinging like needles and abrading skin left bare save his usual leather pants.
Squinting against the white, he focused on the figure kneeling above him, face dark with fury, eyes glowing gold.
Seth.
“What—?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t know?” Seth bellowed over the howling winds. “Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?” His large hand closed around Zach’s throat and held him down.
Zach tried to teleport and couldn’t. Seth must be doing something to block or hamper his gifts.
“I warned you,” Seth said. “I warned you I’ve been exercising and growing my powers while you and the Others sat on your asses. Did you think I lied?”
When Zach opened his mouth to respond, Seth lifted him and slammed him against the ice again, breaking more bones in Zach’s wings.
“Just tell me why!”
“Why what?” Zach growled as agony overwhelmed him.
Lightning streaked through the sky and struck the glacier a few yards away.
He had never seen Seth so enraged.
“Don’t fuck with me! Why did you restore Donald and Nelson’s memories? Why did you help the mercenaries prey upon my Immortal Guardians?”
Zach shook his head, unable to speak past the fingers clutching his throat.
Roaring, Seth rose to his feet and waved an arm in a circle.
The wind ceased blowing. The snow it had been carrying fluttered down to the ground, settling upon Zach and decorating his eyelashes as silence engulfed them.
Shit. Seth could control the weather?
Zach started to rise, but found he couldn’t.
Seth held him in place telekinetically, his power a frightening and tangible force. “Only you or an Immortal Guardian could have done it. And my immortals wouldn’t betray me. Just tell me why you did it.”
Zach shook his head. “Your problem, Seth,” he gasped, “has always been . . . that you think yourself . . . invulnerable. Is it . . . so hard for you to believe . . . that one of your precious . . . Immortal Guardians might have betrayed you?”
“You deny it was you?”
“I deny nothing,” he snarled, his own fury now matching Seth’s.
“So be it.”
The blizzard resumed, wind whipping Seth’s long hair.
So quickly he appeared to vanish for a moment, Seth drew a dagger and—kneeling—plunged the blade into Zach’s chest an inch from his heart.
Pain shrieked through him.
Seth leaned in close and turned the blade, heightening Zach’s suffering. “Listen closely, Cousin. This is but a tiny fraction of the power I wield. Betray me again, endanger my Immortal Guardian family again, and I will destroy you. If the Others don’t like it and choose to confront me, they will meet the same fate.”
He rose while Zach struggled for breath.
“Stay away from Ami. Stay away from Lisette. Stay away from all of us.” He shook his head, his face full of scorn as his glowing gaze raked Zach. “What a fucking disappointment.”
He vanished.
The pressure holding Zach in place fell away.
Raising a shaking hand, Zach grasped the handle of the dagger and slowly pulled it from his chest.
It fell to the ground, staining the ice red.
He tried to teleport and found he couldn’t. Seth had done something to drain his powers.
Gritting his teeth, he sat up with a growl of agony and dragged his wings with him.
A shiver shook him.
He glanced around at the frozen landscape.
No structure or shelter in sight.
For the next several hours, until his broken wings healed enough to carry him home, Zach’s only company would be the anger festering inside him.
That and the satisfaction of knowing he wasn’t the one who had betrayed Seth.
Apparently, somewhere out there, an Immortal Guardian was plotting to take down his or her illustrious leader.
Etienne stared at Krysta’s mother and felt warmth fill him, easing some of his anxiety.
Opening the door wide, she waved them inside.
She was smaller than her daughter, standing no taller than five feet. Same slender build with slightly wider hips conservatively clothed in a floral-print dress. Shoulder-length, brown hair streaked with gray framed a friendly face that was the spitting image of Krysta’s, only hers bore faint laugh lines.
“Honey!” she called over her shoulder, “they’re here!” She hugged Krysta and Sean as a man, who was at least as tall as Etienne, joined them.
He, too, bore an athletic build, garbed in slacks and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back. His black hair was cut short and showed gray at the temples. His expression was welcoming.
Smiling, he waited for his wife to get her hugs in, then claimed his own.
Krysta gave him a hearty embrace, then stepped back and took Etienne’s hand. “Mom, Dad, this is Etienne d’Alençon. Etienne, these are my parents, Evelyn and Martin Linz.”
Her mother smiled up at him. “Call me Evie.”
When she offered her hand, he took it and brought it to his lips. “A pleasure to meet you, Evie.” He offered his hand to Krysta’s father. “And you as well, Mr. Linz.”
“Call me Martin. Nice to meet you, Etienne.”
Etienne’s mind went blank. Two hundred plus years old and he found himself tongue-tied in the face of his fiancEe’s parents.
Not surprising. He hadn’t formally courted a woman since his transformation.
Evie grinned up at her husband. “He reminds me of you, honey. So handsome.”
Heat stole up his neck.
Krysta’s eyes widened. “Are you blushing?”
“No,” he denied swiftly, sparking laughs.