She laughed again.

She really was taken with Etienne. Sean could understand her being grateful to the man for saving her life, but . . . was she really considering pursuing something romantic with him?

Hell. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. The life they had led for the past six—seven—years had been a lonely one. Krysta hadn’t been willing to give up or even cut back on her vampire hunting in order to date. And he hadn’t been able to date while he was watching her back and racing to her rescue every night. Even when he had lucked out and found a woman who hadn’t minded the weird-ass hours or the emergency calls that had interrupted their dates, he had had difficulty concocting plausible explanations for the wounds that had opened on his body when he had healed Krysta’s. So he had dated as little as Krysta.

He just wished Krysta would have fallen for Cam or one of the other Seconds instead of an immortal. That was a little hard to stomach.

Cam caught his eye. “You about ready?”

He nodded.

Krysta raised her eyebrows. “Ready for what?”

Sean straightened away from the doorjamb he had been propping up and entered. “Cam is taking me to network headquarters. I’m going to be working with Dr. Lipton tonight.”

“She’s the pretty brunet from the meeting, isn’t she? The one married to Bastien?”

Etienne nodded. “She’s as fierce a fighter as you are, but doesn’t hunt. She’s been too valuable in the lab, searching for a cure for the virus. She’s the one who developed the antidote to the tranquilizer the mercenaries use against us.” He met Sean’s gaze as he slid one last dagger into the sheaths sewn into the lining of his coat. “She’ll be able to answer all of your questions regarding the virus, immortals, and vampires. Gifted ones, too.”

Sean nodded. He had a lot of questions.

“I have a few questions myself,” Krysta said.

“I’ll answer them while we hunt,” Etienne promised.

He had been surprisingly amiable toward Sean, considering Sean had woken him yesterday by pressing a blade to his throat.

“She’s your sister. You’d die to protect her. I understand that,” Etienne had said.

Sean had doubted that until he had encountered Etienne’s sister Lisette. According to Cam, Lisette’s husband had been turned, but had hidden it from her until the insanity had kicked in. Then he had attacked her and transformed her against her will. Etienne and Richart had slain her husband and offered her their blood in an attempt to hide her condition from everyone else, not knowing that frequent exposure to the virus through bites would infect them as well. So for two hundred years, Lisette had been burdened with the knowledge that she had accidentally transformed her brothers.

And Etienne had never once held it against her, insisting he would have done nothing different had they known beforehand what it would cost him. Richart, too.

So Sean supposed they did have that in common. He would give his life to save Krysta. Etienne would give his life to save Lisette . . . and Krysta, which made it damned hard for Sean to continue resisting her involvement with the immortal.

“All right,” Cam said, drawing a set of keys from his back pocket and heading for the door. “We’re out. Call me if you need me.”

Etienne nodded.

Krysta waved with a smile.

The trip to the network took about forty-five minutes. Etienne lived way out in the boonies, distanced from towns and neighbors alike.

Sean studied the exterior of the building as Cam pulled into the parking lot occupied by more vehicles than Sean would’ve expected to see at this hour.

It was a little anticlimactic. Krysta had mentioned several times the power Chris Reordon, the leader of the East Coast division of the network, wielded. Sean would’ve thought the place would look a little more . . . remarkable.

Cam laughed as he shut off the engine and opened his door. “I know. Bland as hell, right?”

“Yeah.” Sean exited the car.

“That was deliberate. Chris wanted something that wouldn’t interest anyone who happened upon it because they took a wrong turn.”

Then he had succeeded. Surrounded by thick evergreens on all sides, it had been built far from strip malls, business districts, and residential neighborhoods. The one-story concrete structure looked aged and worn and reminded him of a storage facility for a package delivery service.

“Is this the front or the back?” he asked as he followed Cam to a plain wooden door.

“Back. There really isn’t much of a difference, though.”

The plain wooden door wasn’t so plain, Cam soon discovered. The inside was lined with steel and was as thick and heavy as the door of a bank vault. As Cam closed the door behind them, Sean found himself in a glass vestibule with a locked door and a view of a lobby.

Sean gave the glass an experimental rap with his knuckles. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess this is bulletproof glass.”

“The glass in the previous network headquarters building was bulletproof. This stuff will stop a fucking missile.”

The lobby was a modern collection of grays that comprised a U-shaped arrangement of comfortable-looking chairs. Large Peace Lilies on side tables injected what otherwise would have been a somewhat cold room with warmth and color.

Half a dozen guards manned a granite-topped security desk opposite the locked door. A good twenty more stood sentry beside elevators behind the desk. Rather than wearing traditional security guard uniforms, they all bore the standard black hunting garb of a Second.

And they were very heavily armed.

Cam waited while one of the guards at the desk rose and approached the door. He then held up an ID card.

“Hey, Cam,” the guard said, withdrawing some kind of laser scanner from a pocket on his belt.

“John. How’s the evening been?”

“Nice and quiet.” He scanned the card through the glass, then tucked away the scanner. “Clear,” he said over his shoulder.

A buzz sounded.

Cam grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

“Who’s your friend? Chris said you’d be bringing a visitor, but didn’t go into detail.”

“This is Sean Linz. Sean, John Wendleck.”

They shook hands.

Sean followed Cam and John toward the elevators.

“Sean and his sister Krysta are vampire hunters,” Cam mentioned.

John tilted his head to one side. “Don’t we all pretty much qualify as vampire hunters?”

“Yes, but they’ve been doing it on their own with no knowledge of our existence for the past six years. And by doing it on their own, I mean actively seeking out vampires, luring them into traps, and killing them.”

John’s eyebrows flew up. “You’ve been hunting vampires on your own? Damn. That’s ballsy.”

Several of the other guards nodded their agreement as the trio circled the desk.

A pair of elevator doors opened.

John reclaimed his seat behind the desk.

Sean stepped inside the elevator with Cam and looked around. “This is a one-story building. What’s the point of the elevator?”

Cam leaned forward and pressed a button marked S5. “There are five floors underground. We’re going down to the fifth, the sublevel with the tightest security.”

The doors slid closed.

“Why the tightest?”

“Vampires live there.”

Sean stared at him. “Come again?”

“Dr. Lipton’s office is on S5. Her lab is, too. She does all of her work down there and part of that includes working with two vampires who surrendered to the immortals.”

“If they’re vampires, why didn’t the immortals just kill them?” Sean demanded. What the hell? Vampires were the enemy. They were monsters.

“First, you might want to watch what you say because the vampires can hear you,” Cam cautioned. “Second, the madness hasn’t taken them yet. They’re good guys in a messed up situation and have asked for our help. Dr. Lipton is trying to do that. She’s trying to find a cure or at least to find a way to prevent or slow the brain damage they suffer as the virus progresses.”

“Are you saying vampires run around freely down here?”

“No, of course not.”

A bell dinged. The doors slid open.

Sean’s heart stopped.

Two vampires—one African American and one White—stood there, eyes glowing, fangs gleaming as their lips drew back into snarls.

“We do now,” the African-American vamp growled.

Fear shot through Sean. He hadn’t been allowed to bring any damned weapons!

The vampire threw back his head. “Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

The White vampire howled.

A tall, menacing figure garbed all in black suddenly appeared behind the vamps and popped them both on the back of the head.

“Ow!” they cried, grabbing their heads.

“Cut the crap,” the immortal ordered.

Sean recognized him from the meeting, but couldn’t remember his name.

“Aw, come on, Bastien,” the African-American vampire complained. “We were just razzing the new guy.”

“You’re lucky the new guy isn’t carrying. Get back to the lab.”

The White vampire grumbled something and dashed away. The other vampire grinned at Sean and shrugged. “Things were getting boring around here. No hard feelings?”

Before Sean could answer, he, too, darted away.

Sean stepped off the elevator with Cam. Just outside, a dozen men stood at the ready, faces tense, fingers on the triggers of their automatic weapons.

“Relax,” Bastien told Sean. “Those two are harmless.”

Sean tilted his head in the direction of the guards. “If the vampires are harmless, why are these guys so tense?”

He smirked. “They aren’t worried about the vampires. They’re worried about me.” He blurred, zipping down the hallway after the vamps.

Cam cleared his throat. “Would you like to meet Dr. Lipton now?”