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Grabbing one of her discarded shoto swords, she pressed it into Zach’s hand and curled his fingers around it. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. Taking the other, she zipped around to enter through the front door. It took only seconds to lock it behind her, drop the shoto, grab a blanket from the hall closet, and exit through the back door.

  Zach didn’t move when she approached.

  Lifting his shoulders, she unrolled the blanket under him, then carefully wrapped it around his wings and tucked the ends in the front. It alarmed her that he didn’t moan or evince any other sign of suffering at her touch.

  Hoisting him over her shoulder, she rose and headed for the back deck. She didn’t rush this time, but took slow, steady steps that jostled him as little as possible. Once inside, she locked the door, reset the alarm system, and headed down to the basement.

  Her queen-sized bed seemed small when she lowered Zach onto it, facedown to protect his wings. Several of those soft, nearly translucent feathers floated down to the floor when she unwrapped and removed the blanket.

  Lisette tossed it in a corner.

  Listening to his labored breathing, she wondered what she should do. She had never learned all of the intricacies of first aid, because she had always had a Second to patch her up and had, fortunately, never had to patch up one of her Seconds.

  She couldn’t bring Tracy into this, because her Second’s mind would be an open book to any telepath in the area. Seth would know instantly what had happened and . . . Lisette feared what Seth might do to Zach if he learned Zach’s whereabouts. Or what Seth might do to Lisette if he learned she had disobeyed him and aided the immortal.

  She ran down a quick checklist of the other immortals in the area, trying to think of any who might be an ally to her in this situation. Picking up the phone, she dialed Ethan’s number.

  “Yeah?” he answered.

  “I need you,” she told him.

  “I’m on my way.”

  Ethan was great that way.

  Lisette exchanged her nightgown for hunting clothes and sat by the bed until she heard Ethan’s motorcycle approach.

  Heading upstairs, she disabled the alarm system and opened the door just as he leaned against the doorjamb.

  He stood about six feet four inches tall with short, wavy black hair, a strong jaw, and the piercing brown eyes common amongst immortals. Broad shoulders tested the seams of a black T-shirt. Nicely developed pecs and biceps flexed as he combed a hand through his hair, leaving it slightly tousled. “I am so glad you called,” he said, flashing her a boyish grin. “I really need to get laid tonight.”

  Rolling her eyes, Lisette stepped back and waited for him to enter. “When I said I needed you, I meant I needed your help.” Closing the door, she locked it, but didn’t bother to reset the alarm.

  His face fell. “Ah, hell. You mean this wasn’t a butt call?”

  “Booty call, Ethan. I believe the term is booty call. Honestly, I’m a hundred and thirty years older than you and from France. How can I be more familiar with American slang than you are? You were born here.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t watch a lot of television and my Second is going on sixty. Neither one of us keeps up with whatever the hip kids are saying these days.”

  “First, I don’t think anyone says hip anymore. And second, Ed is going on sixty?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn. He looks like he’s in his late thirties.” He was actually pretty hot.

  “I know, right? He dates more than I do.” Ethan propped his hands on his black jean-clad hips. “This really wasn’t a booty call?”

  “No.” Ethan was an American immortal born a century or so ago. Until recently, he had been the youngest immortal in the area.

  He had also been Lisette’s protégé.

  Shortly after vampires had turned Ethan against his will, Seth had deposited him on Lisette’s doorstep and assigned her to train and mentor him. Ethan had been handsome and charming and utterly smitten with her. Lisette had been lonely and flattered and physically attracted to him. So, for years, the two of them had carried on a clandestine affair that she didn’t think even Seth and David knew about. The relationship had ended amicably. Lisette had begun to fear Ethan might be falling in love with her. (He was something of an anomaly in that his mind was almost impossible to read, even by the elders.) Unable to return the affection, she had reluctantly ended the affair.

  But afterward, they had transitioned into what Americans called friends with benefits. When the loneliness grew too burdensome or whenever they simply desired a little physical contact, they gave each other a call. A comfortable and convenient arrangement.

  Ethan pursed his lips. “Could we turn it into a booty call after I help you with whatever you need me to help you with?”

  She smiled. “I don’t think so.”

  “Damn.” He loosed a half-sigh, half-groan that went on so long it nearly made her laugh. “All right. I’m over it. What do you need?”

  She hesitated. “It’s . . . delicate.”

  His face lit with curiosity. “Okay.”

  “And could potentially be dangerous.” How the hell was she going to explain this?

  “Okay.”

  “By dangerous, I mean it will likely piss off Seth if he finds out,” she clarified.

  A moment passed. “Okay.”

  That was it. Just okay.

  It was a damned shame she didn’t love him. At least not the way she still suspected he loved her. He would do anything for her.

  “Come with me.” She headed for the hallway and the door to the basement.

  “Where’s Tracy?” he asked.

  “At David’s. She’ll be spending the day there.”

  “At your request?”

  “No.”

  “Does she know about whatever is going on?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” He said nothing more until they reached her bedroom.

  Lisette stood quietly beside him, fighting the urge to chew a thumbnail, as he stared down at Zach for several long minutes.

  “Where’s the shovel?” he asked.

  “The shovel?” she repeated, confused.

  “Yeah. You want me to bury him, right?”

  Her eyebrows flew up. “What? No. He isn’t dead.”

  “He isn’t? I don’t hear a heartbeat.”

  “It’s there. The pauses between are just very long.”

  “Oh. Right. There it is. I just heard one.” Another moment passed. “So, who is he?”

  Lisette frowned up at Ethan. “Wait. What exactly did you think had happened here?”

  He shrugged. “I figured you must have brought a mortal home, gotten carried away, and accidentally killed him.”

  “During sex?” she asked incredulously.

  “He is half naked,” he pointed out. “And you said Seth would be pissed. You know how protective Seth is of mortals. He does not react well when an immortal inadvertently kills one.”

  “When have you ever known me to engage in rough sex?”

  “Quebec. 1985.”

  She opened her mouth, paused, thought about it, then nodded. “Okay. You’re forgiven.”

  He sent her a sly glance from the corner of his eye. “For 1985?”

  She unsuccessfully fought a smile. “No.”

  He laughed. “Then for what?”

  “For drawing the freakiest conclusion you could draw from this situation.”

  Still grinning, he shrugged. “It was inevitable. I have sex on the brain tonight.”

  “So I noticed.” After another minute, she nudged him with her shoulder. “I can’t believe you were just going to grab a shovel and bury the body, no questions asked.”

  Again he shrugged. “You know I’d do anything for you. What’s this guy’s story, anyway? What do you want me to do?”

  “Patch him up?” she asked hopefully.

  “Why would that piss off Seth? Like I said, he loves mortals.”

  Lisette motioned to Zac
h. “He isn’t mortal, Ethan. Did you fail to notice his wings?”

  “Those are real?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he’s immortal. Why would patching him up anger Seth? Seth is even more protective of us than he is of humans.”

  She bit her lip. “Seth isn’t terribly fond of him.”

  “Meaning . . .”

  “All evidence points to him being on Seth’s shit list.”

  Ethan whistled. “So you thought you’d try living dangerously for a while.”

  Now she shrugged.

  His look turned discerning. “Like him a bit, do you?”

  Sometimes she thought Ethan knew her even better than her brothers did.

  Her gaze shifted to Zach as she debated whether or not she should speak the truth, then back to Ethan. “I don’t know. I’m . . . drawn to him. I don’t know why.”

  Had she not been paying such close attention, she would have missed the tiny muscle that flexed in Ethan’s jaw.

  His gaze slid to Zach. “Lucky bastard.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Let me see what Tracy has in her medic bag.” Spinning on his heel, he left the room.

  Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea.

  Returning, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and started digging through Tracy’s first-aid bag.

  It was actually a diaper bag. Diaper bags have all kinds of little compartments and pockets that are good for organizing crap, Tracy had said when asked about it. They even have pockets that will keep blood cool if I have to bring you some.

  “So?” Lisette asked as the minutes stretched and Ethan continued to rummage through the bag.

  “So,” he responded, “it belatedly occurs to me that I don’t know what half of this shit is for.”

  She groaned. “You’ve never had to patch up a Second?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve only had three. The first retired without ever having suffered a major injury. The second bled to death before I could reach him. And Ed is tough as nails. Any time he’s injured he just stoically sews himself up.”

  “You don’t help him?”

  He glanced up at her, his expression sheepish. “I’m a little squeamish around needles.”

  She stared at him. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “You slice and dice and decapitate vampires every night.”

  “And you’ll notice that I don’t try to sew them back together again afterward.” He set the bag aside and rose.

  It appeared she was back to square one. “What should I do?”

  He took in the patient once more and pursed his lips. “I think you’re going to have to call in the big guns.”

  “I told you, Seth doesn’t like him. If he—”

  “Not Seth. Seth isn’t the big guns. Seth is the fucking hydrogen bomb.”

  “Ethan.”

  “Bastien. I meant Bastien.”

  She blinked. “Bastien is the big guns?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a distinct Duh inflection. “The man raised and commanded an army of psychotic vampires. Not one or two or ten. An army of them. He actually lived with the crazy bastards and kept them in line. Mostly. Can you imagine the kind of balls that must have taken?”

  She didn’t have to. She had peeked into Bastien’s thoughts enough to know just how much power and authority he had wielded. Even though Bastien was young for an immortal—roughly her own age—he really could be deemed the big guns.

  “You’re right. But what’s to stop Seth from seeing this in Bastien’s thoughts?”

  “I don’t think Seth spends much time in Bastien’s head these days. One, Seth is too busy worrying about Ami. And two, Melanie is keeping Bastien in line, so Seth no longer has to.”

  “Hmm.” Retrieving her cell phone, Lisette dialed Bastien’s number.

  “What?” he answered, his deep voice curt and unwelcoming.

  “Bastien, it’s Lisette.”

  “Oh.”

  Awkward silence.

  Yeah. Bastien wasn’t exactly a people person.

  “Are you busy?” she asked hesitantly. She hadn’t realized until that moment just how rarely she had spoken with him since Seth had brought him into the fold.

  “Not really. Why?”

  “I have a . . . situation that I could use your help with.”

  “Okay.”

  Ethan’s eyebrows rose.

  She gave Bastien her address, then ended the call.

  “I didn’t think it would be that easy,” Ethan said.

  “I didn’t either.”

  When the British immortal arrived, Lisette met him at the front door and led him down to her bedroom.

  Bastien nodded to Ethan, then stared down at Zach. After a few moments, he looked around. “Where’s the shovel?”

  Ethan coughed to cover a laugh.

  “I didn’t kill him!” Lisette nearly shouted.

  Bastien shifted his gaze to Ethan.

  Ethan held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t kill him.”

  “He isn’t dead,” Lisette snapped. “And I’m not into rough sex!”

  Bastien stared at her. “Ooookay.”

  She frowned. “Isn’t that what you thought had happened? That I had killed him during sex?”

  “No. I just assumed he had pissed you off.”

  “Oh.” Her face heated with a blush.

  Bastien’s lips twitched.

  And Ethan was enjoying this way too much, damn him.

  She counted to ten. “Why would the two of you think I would call you over here to bury him? It’s not like I don’t have the strength to lift him and do it myself.”

  Ethan shrugged. “You’re a girl.”

  Lisette glared at them both. “And, what, you think I don’t want to get my pretty little hands dirty?”

  No response.

  “You do know I kill vampires for a living, right?”

  Bastien pointed at Ethan. “He said it, not me.”

  “But you were thinking it.”

  He scowled. “Are you reading my thoughts again, telepath?”

  “I didn’t have to. It was all over your face. Besides, I stopped peeking into your head a long time ago because all you ever think about is Melanie naked and your vampire friends.”

  Ethan’s eyebrows shot up. “He thinks about Melanie naked with his vampire friends?”

  Bastien popped him on the back of the head.

  “Ow! Shit!”

  Lisette pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let us return to the subject at hand, shall we? Yes, I’m a girl,” she pointed out needlessly. “A girl who can kick your ass, Ethan.”

  “I know,” he acknowledged with a grin as he rubbed the back of his smarting head.

  “Bastien, my guest here,” she said, refraining from mentioning Zach by name, “is immortal. I was hoping you might know how to tend his wounds. Neither Ethan nor I knows much about first aid.”

  “Why don’t you just give him blood?”

  “No fangs.”

  “You don’t need his fangs to descend. You can transfuse him with your own.”

  She hesitated, unwilling to tell them what she suspected.

  “What?” Ethan asked, picking up on her unease.

  “He has wings,” she said.

  “Those are real?” Bastien asked.

  “Yes.”

  He studied her stoically. “And—what—you think . . . ?”

  Ethan frowned. “You don’t think he’s an angel, do you? Like a fallen angel?”

  Some kind of angel. She hadn’t thought about whether or not he had fallen.

  “I don’t know what he is,” she hedged.

  The two men shared a look.

  At least they didn’t laugh at her or mock her.

  “He’s probably just a shape-shifter,” Ethan suggested.

  Possibly, but . . .

  “You don’t want to give him blood,” Bastien said.

  She shook her head.

  “
All right. I’ll tend his wounds.”

  “There’s something you should know first,” she cautioned.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Seth isn’t terribly fond of him.”

  Ethan crossed his arms. “Translation: He’s on Seth’s shit list. If Seth finds out we helped him, we will likely join him on that list.”

  A dark smile slid across Bastien’s handsome face. “When has pissing Seth off ever stopped me from doing something?”

  There were definite perks to having a black sheep in the Immortal Guardian family.

  Bastien ended up being a remarkably capable medic. He seemed to know the use of everything in Tracy’s substantial first-aid kit and used a hell of a lot of it to close Zach’s wounds.

  “Where did you learn to do all this?” Lisette asked, watching him stitch up a deep gash on Zach’s arm.

  “I commanded an army of vampires prone to psychotic breaks and a dozen or so human wannabe minions with violent tendencies. Severe wounds were a nightly occurrence, and Tanner and I were the only ones around who were guaranteed to be focused enough to take care of them. Hold his wings while I roll him onto his side.”

  Approaching the bed, she leaned down to grasp Zach’s wings. They were so large. And so mangled. Broken in countless places. Feathers bent and torn. “Ethan, will you help me?”

  They each took a wing and kept it as immobile as possible while Bastien turned Zach onto his side. Again Lisette marveled over how soft the feathers were. Softer than rabbit’s fur.

  “I’ve set countless broken bones in the past,” Bastien murmured, “but broken wings . . . ? This is a first.”

  “I appreciate your trying.”

  He glanced at her as he worked. “Any particular reason you didn’t ask Melanie to help?”

  Bastien’s wife, Dr. Melanie Lipton, was a now-immortal doctor who worked at the human network, searching for a cure for the virus. Either that or a way to prevent or reverse the brain damage it caused in humans. She was also doing everything she could to carry Ami safely through her pregnancy.

  Lisette sighed. “I didn’t want to get her in trouble.”

  His lips quirked as he manipulated one of the wings. “But you didn’t mind getting me in trouble?”

  Ethan snorted. “When are you not in trouble?”

  Bastien laughed. “True. I’m going to need something I can use as splints.”

  Bastien slowly and methodically tended the many injuries that marred Zach’s lean form. When he finished, Lisette walked Bastien upstairs and followed him out the front door.