“They’ve tried to kill you three times. They’re your enemies as well.”
“I know. And I’m vulnerable, facing them as I am. I want to be strong like you. I don’t want to have to settle. I don’t want to have to stop hunting and become a Second.”
“Seconds fight in battles, too. I’ve lost more than one in the past to vampires’ blades.”
“But they don’t actively hunt.”
No, they didn’t.
Etienne studied her. He wanted to be objective here, to look out for her best interests instead of going with his own. Did he want her to transform? Absolutely. They had made no promises to each other yet, but they had each admitted they were falling in love and . . .
He couldn’t deny that an eternity spent hunting alongside Krysta sounded blissful. An eternity laughing with her and teasing her. Making love with her.
But those were all his wishes.
This was a decision which, once acted upon, was irreversible.
“Let me read your thoughts,” he requested.
She frowned. “What?”
“Let me read your thoughts. All of them, not just those you send me. I need to know you really have considered this thoroughly and have no doubts. No reservations. That this isn’t a knee-jerk reaction to Sean collapsing.”
She hesitated.
“Seth will insist on doing the same before he renders his decision.”
“We have to ask his permission?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He’s our leader. That’s how it’s done.”
She didn’t look too pleased.
“You’ll have to answer to Seth if you transform, Krysta. You’ll have to obey the rules like the rest of us. And his orders.”
“Well . . . I kinda already am, so . . .”
He arched a brow.
“Okay. I won’t lie. It’ll be hard. I’ve been doing my own thing for years. But you did say he’s the wisest among you.”
“He is.”
“That will make it a little easier.”
“So? Your thoughts?”
She bit her lip. “I’m not hesitating because I have doubts. I’m hesitating because there are things up there that I’m not sure I’m ready for you to see.”
He supposed he would feel the same way. But Etienne wouldn’t approach Seth with the request until he was sure she wasn’t merely panicking and grasping at straws after seeing her brother collapse, pale as death, after healing her. Or panicking over having to give up hunting. Or just plain panicking. She could have been killed tonight. Again.
“Fine,” she said, thrusting her chin forward. “Read my thoughts.”
As soon as he sensed she had let down her guard, Etienne explored her thoughts. There was guilt and concern for Sean. Guilt and concern for him. Conviction that transforming was the best course of action for her. A lot of lust for him. And . . .
His pulse began to pound in his ears.
Love.
Krysta loved him.
After learning she’d been engaged, Etienne had feared her heart would always belong to Michael, but . . .
She really did love him. Him. Etienne.
She was afraid to believe it, because it had happened so fast. But she loved being with him. Hunting. Talking. Laughing and teasing. Making love. Watching television. Sharing a sandwich. Even just sitting quietly on this campus or that, their shoulders and thighs touching as the night breeze caressed them.
And he felt the same. Etienne hadn’t realized he could fall in love so quickly, but living with her these past two weeks and spending so much time together . . .
He couldn’t get enough of her and was astounded that she felt the same way.
Dipping his head, he took her lips in a long, passionate kiss.
She drew back. “Damn it! I didn’t want you to see that!”
“See what?”
“How I feel about you! That’s why you kissed me, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She covered her face with her hands and spoke something so jumbled into them that he couldn’t decipher it.
“Krysta, sweetheart.” He pried her hands away from her pink face. “I feel the same way.”
“You do?” she asked uncertainly.
“Yes.”
“But it’s too soon.”
“I know it feels that way. But it’s not like we’re dating and only see each other a couple of nights a week. We’ve been together constantly since you and Sean moved in, only parting to sleep.” He smiled. “And there were times we didn’t even do that.”
At last, he managed to coax a faint smile from her. “True.” She sighed. “You didn’t see anything else up there that would embarrass me, did you?”
He winked. “I saw some very interesting fantasies you’ve been fabricating around me.”
“Of course you did,” she acknowledged dryly.
“Would you by any chance care to explore a couple? No, make that a few. We have all day.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Unless you aren’t ready—”
“I’m ready.” She shook her head. “Wait. We’re getting distracted again. Are you going to transform me?”
“I will take the request to Seth and, if he gives his permission . . .”
She leaned forward.
“Yes, I’ll transform you.”
Grinning, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close, those tantalizing breasts pressed to his bare chest. “Thank you.”
He slid his hands up and down her back, loving the feel of her soft, soft skin. “There is one thing though . . .”
“Crap.” Releasing him, she plopped back onto her heels. “What?”
“Younger immortals are always weaker than older immortals.”
“That’s what Sean said.”
“Sarah isn’t. She was turned only two or three years ago and should be weaker than I. Instead, she’s as strong as her husband, Roland, who turned her.”
“Isn’t he like a thousand years old?”
“Close to it, yes. We don’t know if she’s so strong because of his age or because he’s a healer. But you might consider having Roland turn you.”
She scrunched up her face. “I’d rather you do it.”
“You won’t be linked to him emotionally afterward, if that’s your fear,” he assured her.
“Euw. I didn’t even think of that.”
“You would be stronger than me,” he said, even as he wondered how he would talk Roland into doing it.
“If you turned me, would I be as strong as you or weaker than you?” she asked.
“I don’t know. If the age of the immortal and not his gift is the determining factor, then you would have the same strength I possess, I would imagine. Perhaps slightly less.”
“I’m good with that.”
“Don’t be so hasty, Krysta. Being stronger would be an advantage. The stronger you are, the safer you are in battles against mercenaries and vampires. You’ll move faster. You’ll heal faster. You’ll have a greater tolerance for the sun.”
“I want you to transform me.”
He took her hand. “Just think about it.”
“I don’t have to. If I spent a month mulling it over, I would come to the same conclusion. If Seth says I can be transformed, I want you to be the one to do it,” she insisted.
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.
