Death of Darkness Read online

  Yes? the French immortal responded.

  Stop talking dirty to Krysta telepathically when her brother is around.

  A laugh filtered through his head. Seriously?

  Yes. I’ve told Sean I want him to hunt with you two, and he’s chafing over needing what he considers a babysitter. Don’t exacerbate things by making him feel uncomfortable.

  It makes him uncomfortable? he asked with surprise.

  Are you saying it doesn’t make you uncomfortable when Zach gets handsy with Lisette in your presence?

  Ugh. You’re right. I’ll stop.

  Seth turned to Sean. “It’s done.”

  Sean’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thanks.” He motioned to what was left of the vampires at their feet. “I take it none of these were immortals? I thought the guy in the green shirt kinda looked like one of the missing gifted ones. And he had brown eyes that glowed amber.” Almost all immortals did.

  “No. But thank you for calling me. I would still like to capture rather than kill the immortals under Gershom’s control.” The bastard had kidnapped and transformed a dozen gifted ones. Seth could only assume the worst—that he intended to pit them against Seth’s Immortal Guardians and inflict as much damage as possible before he used them to kick-start Armageddon. Gershom wanted to watch the world burn and was doing everything he could think of to make that happen. But he harbored a baffling hatred toward Seth at the same time and had struck some heavy blows since embarking upon his quest.

  Sean began to collect the vampires’ fallen weapons. “I don’t have Ethan’s picture-perfect recall. So if I see even the slightest resemblance, I figure I should call you.”

  “I appreciate that.” Seth motioned to the empty clothing at their feet. “Can you take care of this on your own?”

  Sean shook his head. “I need to call Reordon and have him send over a cleanup crew. I want to make sure none of the security cameras caught anything.”

  Chris Reordon was the head of the East Coast division of the human network that aided Immortal Guardians.

  Seth nodded. He didn’t know how Chris and the network did it, but they could work miracles when it came to keeping anything related to Immortal Guardians, vampires, or gifted ones from reaching humans. Chris had once even managed to completely quash an incident that took place in Times Square.

  There seemed to be little he and his techno wizards couldn’t do.

  Hmm.

  The woman from Seth’s dream strolled to the forefront of his mind.

  Tilting his head, Seth studied Sean thoughtfully. If anyone could tell him who the woman was, it would be Chris.

  “What?” Sean asked.

  “Nothing. You just gave me an idea. Go ahead and call Reordon. Do you want me to wait until the crew arrives?”

  “No, I’ve got this.”

  Nodding, Seth teleported to the study in David’s home.

  David’s Second, Darnell, sat at his desk, typing on a laptop. A beep sounded in his pocket. “Hi, Seth,” he said without looking up.

  Seth’s mood darkened. Chris’s techno wizards had come up with a device all immortals and their Seconds could carry in their pockets that would beep once whenever Seth was near them. Chris had said the alarms were linked in some way to a coin-sized object Chris asked Seth to always keep with him. No other copies of the coin existed. And the developer who had created the coin had allowed Seth to erase knowledge of it from his memory so Gershom couldn’t duplicate it.

  Since Gershom could shape-shift and had impersonated Seth in the past, it was the only way most of them could tell Seth was himself when he appeared and not Gershom.

  It infuriated him that such was necessary.

  Darnell glanced at him over the laptop. “It’s only until we defeat Gershom. Don’t let it upset you.”

  He shook his head. “I think Chris is right.”

  “About what?”

  “You’ve been spending too much time with David and me. Our paranormal whozeewhatzit, as he calls it, is beginning to wear off on you.”

  Darnell laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Anything I can help you with?”

  “I need paper and a pencil.”

  Rising, Darnell strolled past Seth to Ami’s desk. “Sounds like Chris’s whozeewhatzit is starting to wear off on you.”

  Seth smiled. Though Chris was a technological genius, the man carried a stubby number two pencil and a small notebook around with him everywhere he went and preferred to jot things down the old-fashioned way when ideas came to him. “Maybe so.”

  The overhead light glinted on Darnell’s shaved brown head as he bent and opened a drawer. Stacks of paper resided therein. “How much do you need?”

  “Just a sheet.”

  After retrieving the paper, Darnell closed the drawer and drew a regular pencil out of a can full of multicolored ones on top of the desk.

  Footsteps approached in the hallway.

  Sheldon, Richart’s young Second, poked his head in. “Hey, Darnell? Where did Roland end up coming down on letting Michael play with weapons? Was he for it or against it?”

  Darnell handed the paper and pencil to Seth, then headed for the doorway. “Are they sharp or dull?”

  “Dull,” Sheldon answered, stepping back to let Darnell pass. “Or dull-ish.” Both men left Seth’s sight. “I mean, it’ll still hurt if he pokes himself in the eye, but the blade won’t cut him.”

  Seth shook his head and let their voices fall away as he set the piece of paper on the desk. Leaning down, he sketched the woman from his dream at preternatural speeds. It was a good likeness, resembling her almost as well as a black-and-white photograph would.

  He studied her. She was pretty. Not in a glamorous, perfectly coiffed, expertly made-up, Hollywood kind of way, but in a fresh-faced, girl-next-door kind of way. Again he felt that odd sense of familiarity, as if he had seen her before, outside of the dream. But he couldn’t recall when or where.

  Nor could he erase her from his thoughts.

  Setting the pencil down, he drew out his cell phone and dialed Chris Reordon’s number.

  “Reordon,” Chris answered absently.

  “It’s Seth. I need a moment of your time.”

  “Sure. I’m in my office. Let me turn off the alarm.” A slight pause ensued. “Okay. You’re good.”

  Seth pocketed his phone and teleported to Chris’s office.

  A beep sounded. Seated behind his massive desk, Chris nodded a greeting, then tapped a key on his computer.

  After network headquarters had been breached by a certain Immortal Guardian bent on mischief two or three years earlier, Chris had installed a security feature that would sound an alarm anytime someone teleported into the building.

  Rising, the blond strolled around his desk and approached Seth. “What can I do for you?”

  “Do any of your contacts have access to facial recognition databases?”

  “Yes.” Chris had fostered relationships with individuals in just about every law enforcement and government agency there was (including those swathed in secrecy) in his quest to provide Immortal Guardians with all they needed.

  “If you give them a picture, can they use it to identify a person?”

  “Many times, yes.”

  “Can they do it with a drawing?”

  “Depends on how good the drawing is.”

  “It’s good.” He said it factually, not boastfully. Seth had been sketching people for thousands of years. He had long since perfected the craft.

  He handed Chris the drawing.

  Chris turned away. His chin lowered as he examined the picture on his way back to his desk. “I’ll get this to them immediately and…” Halting, he swung around and held up the paper. “Actually, I don’t have to. I know who this woman is.”

  Surprise coursed through Seth. “You do?”

  “Yeah. Leah Somerson. She owns Little Gifts, Ami’s favorite shop. She sells children’s clothing and t
oys. Baby stuff, too. Ami takes Adira there fairly often because Leah has storytime twice a week to entertain the kids while their parents shop.” His lips turned up in a half smile. “And to advertise the books she sells, no doubt.”

  Leah Somerson. He now had a name to place with the face, but it didn’t sound familiar. “What do you know of her?”

  Shrugging, Chris leaned back against his desk. “She’s originally from Colorado. A widow. No kids. Lives alone above her shop. Total workaholic. And she’s never had any affiliations with mercenaries or anyone else who would raise a red flag.”

  “So you’ve looked into her background?”

  “As soon as Ami started taking Adira to Little Gifts.” It proved yet again that Chris thought of everything when it came to ensuring the safety of the Immortal Guardians and those who worked with them. “I found nothing suspicious. Why? Did something happen?”

  Seth shook his head. “I had a dream in which she was holding Adira.”

  “And you want to ensure it wasn’t a warning?”

  “Something like that.” He did have prophetic dreams on occasion. “But I was sleeping at David’s place, so it was probably just Adira’s dream infiltrating mine since she knows her.”

  “Probably,” Chris agreed, then nodded toward a nearby doorway.

  Seth followed him into a large conference room dominated by a very long, sleek table with dozens of chairs pulled up to it.

  “But,” Chris said as soon as he closed the door. Though sound from the rest of the building was escorted in via hidden speakers, nothing inside this room could be heard outside it.

  “But?” Seth queried.

  “Gershom has proven to be a wily bastard. And he has used people as his puppets in the past.”

  “You’re thinking of Dr. Whetsman.” Gershom was nearly as powerful as Seth, his gifts as numerous and varied. One of those gifts, unfortunately, was telepathy that was so strong he could compel others to do his bidding… as he had with Dr. Whetsman, a researcher here at the network, with grim results.

  “Yes. Not that he has to do that anymore,” Chris added. “We know now that Gershom has become incredibly adept at shape-shifting. If he can fool an immortal who has known you for three thousand years into believing he’s you, I doubt he would have any difficulty posing as the proprietress of Little Gifts. Who would know it wasn’t her?”

  “Ami would,” Seth murmured. Ami could detect and identify the unique energy signature every individual possessed, something even Seth couldn’t do. “She would know in a heartbeat if Gershom impersonated the woman.”

  “True.”

  Seth sighed. This was what it had come to. This was what Gershom had wrought with his perfidy. Ami couldn’t even take Adira shopping without Seth worrying that the woman who owned the shop wasn’t who she appeared to be.

  “Is there any action you’d like me to take?” Chris asked.

  “No. It’s probably nothing. Just a dream.”

  “A dream that could possibly foreshadow the future?”

  “Or a dream manifested by Adira’s subconscious after a recent visit to the store.”

  Chris shook his head. “Fucking Gershom. We have to get that bastard, Seth. I’m tired of suspecting everyone of everything.”

  Guilt once more assailed Seth over not having accomplished that feat yet. “As am I.” Skillet’s “Monster” rang out from his pocket. Sighing, he answered his phone. “Yes?”

  “Seth!” a male cried. “It’s Caleb. I could use your help.”

  Seth looked at Chris. “I’m needed in Canada.”

  Chris nodded.

  Seth teleported to Toronto. A beep sounded.

  Caleb, a relatively young immortal at three hundred years old, was fighting seven vampires.

  Drawing his katanas, Seth effortlessly ended the life of a vampire intent on hamstringing Caleb, then remained at his back while the two of them worked together to dispatch the rest.

  When the last vampire fell, Caleb turned to him with a smile. “Thank you.”

  Seth nodded. “Why are you hunting alone?”

  Caleb held up both hands, which were bloody fists still curled around the hilts of his sais. “I’m not.”

  The sound of someone approaching at preternatural speeds reached Seth’s ears.

  Multiple someones.

  His frown deepening, he whirled in that direction and raised his katanas. A blurred form raced toward him and skidded to a stop beyond his reach.

  “He wasn’t hunting alone,” Gerard declared breathlessly with a faint French accent. “I was hunting with him. I took off chasing three vampires who tried to flee, but they led me into an ambush and—”

  “Duck,” Seth ordered.

  Gerard ducked.

  Seth leapt past him and swung his weapons at the half dozen vampires lunging toward Gerard’s back. Far swifter and stronger, Seth struck every target without receiving so much as a scratch in return, opening arteries and severing limbs. Blood slapped him in the face and splattered his clothing. Sputtering in disgust, he stopped.

  Six bodies dropped to the ground around him.

  Seth looked down at the blood that painted him. “Well, shit.”

  Gerard and Caleb laughed, then grinned unrepentantly when he tossed them a disgruntled scowl.

  Grumbling under his breath, Seth retrieved a clean handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his blades clean before sheathing them. He would’ve swabbed some of the blood from his face but couldn’t find a clean spot on the cloth.

  Caleb stepped forward and offered him a handkerchief. “Here.”

  “Thank you.” Seth diligently applied it to his face and neck. “Next time stay together. The vampires fleeing the scene could’ve led you into something worse than an ambush.”

  Gerard nodded. “We will.”

  Skillet’s “Monster” blared from Seth’s pocket. Handing Caleb the handkerchief, Seth answered his phone.

  “Seth! Necesito ayuda!”

  Seth glanced at the Canadian immortals. “Leo needs me in Mexico.” He teleported away before they could respond. Leo’s Second had suffered serious wounds while coming to his aid and was bleeding out. Seth healed him with a touch and teleported both to the network headquarters in Mexico City.

  An immortal in Seattle required Seth’s aid next. Then more calls came in, summoning him to New Zealand, Venezuela, Colombia, French Polynesia, Brazil, Hawaii, Argentina. He slew more vampires. He healed Immortal Guardians who had been gravely wounded. And through it all, his mind kept returning to the drawing in his pocket and the woman it portrayed.

  Leah Somerson. Why did her pretty yet somber face inspire this dueling sense of familiarity and unfamiliarity? Had he seen her before? Perhaps long enough ago that he’d forgotten?

  Waving Javier over, Seth gently clasped the arm that hung limply at the immortal’s side and raised it enough to give him a better grasp on the shoulder wound.

  Javier grunted in pain, his jaw clenching.

  Seth’s hand heated as he healed the wound, stopping the outpouring of blood and sealing the deep gash.

  Javier’s muscles relaxed. “Gracias.”

  Smiling, Seth patted his back. “De nada.” He looked over at Javier’s hunting companion. “Oliver.”

  Oliver crossed to him and stood still while Seth healed the head wound he’d suffered. “Gracias.”

  Seth waved his thanks away and stepped back. Glancing down, he grimaced at the wealth of blood that saturated his clothing and painted his skin. He should take a moment to change. Bidding the others good hunting, he teleported to his bedroom in David’s home and headed into the bathroom where the clothing he doffed would be less likely to stain the floor.

  He kicked off his boots first and wiggled his toes. Thousands of years and he still hated wearing shoes. Shucking his pants, he tossed them in the laundry hamper Darnell kept in there for him. His coat, shirt, and boxers followed. The coat might need to be replaced. It had taken a beating in recent months. It was
probably time he sent it to the network, where employees would clean it, mend the tears, and donate it to a homeless shelter along with the other clothing discarded by Immortal Guardians.

  He started for the shower, then swore. Facing the sink, he quickly washed his hands, dried them, and returned to the hamper. A moment later, he dug the drawing of Leah out of his coat pocket and unfolded it.

  Not a speck of blood marred it.

  He stared at her image for a full minute, then folded the paper once more and set it aside. Reaching into the large shower, he turned the faucet. Water pounded tile. Steam began to rise as he stepped in and closed the glass door. A long sigh escaped him as he stepped beneath the hard spray. The ceilings and shower fixtures in all of David’s and Seth’s homes were higher than normal, so he didn’t have to duck to fit his six-foot-eight-inch form beneath the showerhead.

  Fatigue pummeled him, a constant annoyance. As always, Seth pushed it aside.

  He didn’t know what Gershom’s game plan was this time, but it seemed to have begun with simply wreaking fucking havoc by dramatically increasing the vampire population worldwide. There were only so many Immortal Guardians sprinkled around the globe who could fight to keep vampires from preying upon humans. When the vampires’ numbers overwhelmed those immortals, they called Seth in to take up the slack.

  And he had been taking up a lot of slack lately.

  Though he would’ve liked to linger beneath the hot water, Seth lathered up and rinsed at preternatural speeds. Stepping out, he dried off just as quickly.

  It only took a few seconds to don his usual black cargo pants, black shirt, and his spare black coat. Grumbling a bit, he slid his big feet back into his worn boots and pocketed his cell phone. Miraculously, it hadn’t rung the whole time he was showering, so maybe he’d have time to look in on Ami and Adira before he was called away again.

  After giving the drawing of Leah another long look, he tucked it in his back pocket, opened his bedroom door, and stepped out into the hallway.

  Thumps and thuds carried up the staircase from the basement. Darnell must be sparring with the other Seconds, keeping their skills sharp for whatever battle they would face next.

  Seth strode along the hallway, heading for the living room.