He shook his head. “You’ve already surpassed the fantasies and expectations I compiled over the decades and centuries.”

She smirked. “You don’t want much, do you? Just a skinny girl to aggravate you every once in a while and put your life in danger?”

“You don’t aggravate me, you entertain me. Endangering my life keeps me on my toes. And I don’t know why you have issues with your body. The only issue I have with it is that it’s clothed far too often.”

Laughing, she wrinkled her nose. “I was mocked throughout high school for being flat-chested and spent four years watching every male except my fiancE, who was just my boyfriend back then, drool over all the girls with big boobs. So it’s hard not to be self-conscious.” Her face lit with an Ah-ha! expression. “Hey! When I’m transformed, will the virus make me beautiful like Sarah, Lisette, Melanie, and Jenna?”

“You already are beautiful,” he declared. He loved the way she looked.

She pouted. “It won’t change my appearance?”

“No. If you were older, the virus would reverse the damage aging had wrought and make you young again.”

She smiled. “Jenna seems very excited about her gray hair having turned brown again.”

He grinned. “Yes, she is.”

“But it won’t change my shape?”

He shook his head. “If you were emaciated, the virus would rebuild the muscle mass you had lost, heal the damage done, and render you a healthy weight once more. If you were obese, the virus would swiftly burn through your fat stores—”

“Let me guess. Heal the damage done?”

“Yes, and render you a healthy weight. Since you’re neither, there should be no noticeable difference.”

“So . . . no big boobs?”

“No big boobs. Not that you need them.”

She grimaced. “It just would have been nice to have an hourglass figure that wasn’t achieved by wearing a stiff, uncomfortable push-up bra.”

“I prefer no bra to a push-up bra, at least around me,” he mentioned.

“You are so easy to please,” she said with a smile, wiggling from side to side atop him in a way that sent shocks of pleasure darting through him.

His voice deepened. “And you please me endlessly.”

Her look turned flirtatious. “You know, the rest of me may not be too much to brag about, but I do happen to have a lovely mouth.” Lowering her lips to his chest, she tongued his nipple and delivered a love bite.

He hissed in a breath, pulse leaping. “Yes, you do.”

She moved to the other nipple and repeated the gestures. “A very talented mouth.”

Mmmm. “Do tell.”

She sent him a provocative smile. “You sound doubtful.”

Etienne was surprised he could make any sound at all beyond a moan as she slid down his body, her satin skin teasing his cock, and kissed his belly.

“Perhaps a demonstration is in order?” she suggested innocently, dipping her tongue into his navel.

He nodded. “A demonstration. Yes, please.”

With a sultry laugh, she curled her fingers around the base of his shaft and gave the tip straining toward her a long lick.

Etienne groaned and buried his hands in her hair, fire igniting his blood as she circled him with her tongue, then drew him into her warm, wet, admittedly talented mouth.

Krysta hummed as a litany of French poured forth from Etienne’s lips. He was beautiful, muscles rippling, head arching back, face flushing with pleasure. Pleasure that soon swept through her as she coaxed him toward a climax. Her breath shortened as she continued to tease and torment him with her lips and tongue and fingers. She was so wet. She could almost feel him inside her, thrusting deep.

Etienne suddenly released her hair and grabbed her arms. Dragging her up, he rolled her beneath him and plunged inside her.

Crying out, Krysta clamped her hands on his ass and drew him in deep, urging him on as he began to move, thrusting and withdrawing, rocking against her, hitting all the right spots.

“Like it?” he growled in her ear as he slid a hand to her breast and pinched her sensitive nipple.

She nodded, too breathless to speak. Yes.

“Want more?”

Again she nodded. Hell, yes.

He withdrew, rearing back onto his knees.

She opened her mouth to protest and gasped as, instead, he flipped her over onto her hands and knees, then plunged into her again, taking her from behind.

Oh, yeah!

A low laugh vibrated her back as he buried his lips in her hair, seeking and finding the base of her neck as he fondled her breasts with one hand and slid the other down over her stomach to delve into the curls beneath and stroke her clit.

Krysta never would have described herself as being noisy in bed until that moment. Sounds of pleasure emerged with every breath, every thrust, until a climax ripped through her, her body clenching and unclenching around his.

Etienne’s grip tightened almost to the point of pain as he found his own release.

The two collapsed onto the sheets. Krysta barely had time to acknowledge just how heavy all of that muscle was before he rolled them to their sides and spooned around her.

Several minutes passed as they regained their breath. Little aftershocks of pleasure continued to dart through her. She didn’t think she had ever had such an intense orgasm.

“And I didn’t even get to show you how talented my mouth is,” he murmured into her hair.

She smiled. “Next time.”

Etienne felt a twinge of nerves as he dialed Seth’s number.

“Yes?” Seth answered on the second ring. Once more, his voice was accompanied by the sounds of battle.

“It’s Etienne. Are you busy?”

“A bit. What’s up?”

Etienne glanced at Krysta, who stared back with furrowed brow as she bit her lower lip. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Go ahead.”

A scream of pain rent the air in the background.

“Are you sure this isn’t a bad time?”

“Hold on. Friedrich, haben Sie diese?”

“Ja.”

“Ich werde bald wiederkommen.” Seth appeared beside Etienne, a bloody katana in one hand. He nodded a greeting to Krysta. “What’s up?”

Etienne pocketed his phone. “Krysta would like to be transformed.”

“Okay.”

Etienne waited for him to say more.

The silence stretched as Seth stared at him expectantly.

“That’s it?” Etienne asked. “Just . . . okay?”

“Yes. Anything else?”

More silence.

Etienne met Krysta’s confused gaze, then looked at Seth. “I don’t get it.”

Seth arched a brow. “What’s not to get? She wants to be transformed and I have no objection to it.”

“Oh. I guess I just thought that there was more to it than that. That you would want to read her mind or something.”

“Normally, I would read her mind to ensure this was what she truly wanted rather than a hasty decision or that she wasn’t being pressured into it. But I actually saw this coming.”

“What?”

Krysta took a step forward. “What do you mean?”

“Occasionally I get glimpses of the future. Krysta becoming immortal was one of those glimpses, which is why I felt no guilt when I urged her in that direction by repeatedly pointing out that—because she’s mortal—she’s a liability.”

Krysta frowned. “I’ve really come to hate that word.”

Seth shrugged. “Did it help you reach your decision more quickly?”

“Yes,” she grumbled, “but I still don’t like it.”

He smiled. “Ahhhh. She already sounds like an immortal.”

Etienne laughed. “We’re all a pain in your ass, aren’t we?”

“Just so. Now, if you will forgive me, I need to return to the battle before Friedrich is overrun.” He bowed. “Welcome to the family, Krysta. If you have any questions about the transformation, what will happen or how long it will take, I’m sure Dr. Lipton would be happy to answer them for you.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Etienne offered Seth his hand. “Yes. Thank you.”

Seth shook his hand and clapped him on the back, then vanished.

Etienne met Krysta’s gaze. “Looks like we have the go-ahead.”

She nodded. “I expected there to be more to it, too. I thought we’d have to plead our case or something.”

“Seth is an enigma.”

She tilted her head to one side. “Are you sure he’s an immortal?”

“Yes. Why?”

“His aura is different.”

“How so?”

Her gaze roved him. “Your aura is a combination of purple and white that swirls and mingles, but never blends.”

“Really? Is that different from vampires’ auras?”

She nodded. “Vampires’ auras are orange. Human auras vary according to health and mood. Auras of immortals and vampires don’t.”

“So how is Seth’s different?”

“There’s no purple. It’s just pure white. Almost blindingly white. It’s actually quite beautiful.”

Etienne frowned. “All immortals have purple in their auras except for Seth?”

“Yes.”

He pondered that a moment. He had never questioned it before. Seth had gifts like all of them. His eyes glowed when he was gripped by strong emotion like theirs did. He had fangs . . . didn’t he?

Now that he thought about it, Etienne couldn’t recall ever having seen any on the eldest immortal. “Does David’s aura contain purple?”

“Yes, but only a sliver. I thought he was like Seth at first, then saw the purple.”

“Perhaps it’s just an age thing.”

“I suppose so,” she conceded. “Roland has more white in his aura than you and Richart do.”