Blood Destiny (13 page)

All at once, as if he had been shocked by a cattle prod, Nathaniel jerked back and leapt away from the prisoner, stunned by what he had seen.

He had to battle to regain control of the beast inside of him...a beast that did not want to stop. The thin, blond-haired man standing before him, with tears welling up in his bluish gray eyes, was innocent—his troubled soul already weighed 120

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down with resignation and defeat. The prisoner had been framed for a double-homicide he did not commit, and he and his family had suffered immensely.

Nathaniel took several slow deep breaths, allowing the rage to settle into a manageable anger. He then walked directly toward the man, who was now shaking uncontrollably, and looked deep into his pleading eyes. "I can see your innocence: You are no longer in danger." The words were a whispered growl. "Let me attend to your wound, so you do not bleed out."

The blond kid stood frozen like a statue as Nathaniel bent once again to his neck. This time Nathaniel allowed his incisors to lengthen as opposed to his canines: The vampire's incisors were used differently than his canines in the same way a snake used its fangs to inject and disperse poison—

except the vampire's venom held the ultimate power of healing and immortality.

It was sometimes used to create another vampire, transforming a human to the undead, but far more often it was used by their species to heal wounds and speed regeneration. Infused into a lesion or injected into a diseased organ, the affected part of the body would immediately begin to repair itself. Unfortunately for a human, receiving the slow injection was incredibly painful.

Sinking his piercing fangs only deep enough to allow an adequate infusion, Nathaniel released his own powerful essence into the innocent man, this time giving life instead of taking it. He was careful only to disperse a small amount of the poison, as he had no intention of attempting a full 121

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transformation, endangering the human's soul. As expected, the wounds instantly began to heal. The human male would have a powerful immune system from this point forward.

More than likely, he would be resistant to most human diseases.

Nathaniel raised his dark head and floated back away from the man, who touched his neck and felt the smooth, flawless skin. Their eyes met for a prolonged moment of understanding, and then the vampire was gone. His killing rage over. His hunger fully sated.

Nathaniel ran rapidly through the cold, sterile prison, reawakening the guards. He glided just above the floor in the smooth, noiseless manner of his kind. And no one seemed to notice his presence, or the cold chill that accompanied him, when he stopped at the administrative offices to alter the automated computer system.

Reading the minds of the guards, he quickly ferreted out which program held the release-date information and how to generate pre-release orders. Touching his hand to the hard drive, he began to change the data to reflect months of pre-release preparations already completed.

Michael White.

First-degree murder.

Release date...tomorrow.

He sent the new data through the system, making sure there were no discrepancies, even as he effortlessly located the filing cabinet with Michael's back-up hard file in it and set it on fire.

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The guards immediately jumped to put out the spontaneous blaze, but it was too late to recover any contradictory information. Satisfied, Nathaniel wiped the memories of the guards clean and whispered a soft command to a tall, brunette female on his way out of the office, reminding her to look into Michael White's release process immediately. She was already reaching for the computer as Nathaniel dissolved through the ceiling and shot out into the cool night air, his vast wings unfolding gloriously to embrace the deep blue sky.

His hunger had been sated.

He could now return to his destiny—to Jocelyn.

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Marquis Silivasi scanned the shadow lands for hours, examining all of the deep, hidden caves and numerous rocky crevices concealed within the gorge. He scoured the valley floors, searched the hidden hollows, and soared to the top of the highest mountain peaks in hopes of finding any sign of Valentine and his brothers.

It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, ferreting out a Dark One within the miles and miles of deep green forest, shrouded with its thick groves of pine, fir, and spruce trees; concealed by hearty vegetation, which grew out of the hard soil and clung to the steep mountainsides, often adhering to solid rock.

It was late summer in the Rocky Mountains, and the nights were mostly cool, following a typical afternoon thunderstorm, which always left the night sky a brilliant midnight-blue.

Today had been different. The afternoon had been sunny without even a hint of precipitation. And the Blood Moon had called to Nathaniel and Jocelyn, leaving a hazy mist in the sky, the now white moon casting a knowing shadow over the valley.

Marquis marveled at the beauty of the night, even as he remained so deeply disturbed by the day's happenings. There had been Shelby's burial, an overwhelming event that he could not bring himself to attend, and Valentine had sacrificed Dalia in order to spawn yet another evil descendant of Jaegar, a rightful son he had stolen from Shelby.

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He could not comprehend how they had allowed it to happen.

How had the sentinels missed the evil one's presence in the Red Canyons? How had he and Nathaniel been so easily fooled by Valentine's deception? He should not have been able to pass off another woman's body—a human woman with no trace of Celestial DNA in her blood—as Dalia's. The sentinels had picked up on Valentine's scent in the river-bed; it was all over the mutilated corpse. Yet they had missed something as powerful as a birthing...a blood sacrifice...in their own backyard.

Marquis understood Nathaniel's rage. His need for vengeance. But he simply could not endure another loss such as the loss of Shelby. If hunting Valentine alone would help keep Nathaniel safe, then Marquis was more than ready to do so. Jocelyn had to be his brother's one and only priority right now.

Turning back toward the Red Canyons for the third time, Marquis left an obvious trail in his wake, should there be a Dark One present who was willing to confront him. He uprooted trees and turned over rocks, leaving strange weather patterns behind him. He formed several isolated rain clouds and created numerous miniature cyclones, sending each one to hover randomly in the air behind him. Any vampire within the vicinity would know that there was an Ancient in the area. And they would easily scent that he was alone.

It was of no use.

All of his effort.

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Not a single Dark One was in sight.

Marquis decided to return home, but not before entering the Sacrificial Chamber to see the scene of the abomination himself. Perhaps Valentine had left some distinct energy pattern behind that would indicate his next move or provide a clue as to where he might be sleeping during the day while staying in the valley.

Unlike the descendants of Jadon, the Dark Ones could not tolerate the sun, not even for a moment, not even in the early hours of dawn or the late hours of twilight. Valentine would be sleeping deep within the confines of a crypt, albeit natural or manmade, during the day.

Marquis flowed effortlessly through the long labyrinth of tunnels that wound through the deep canyon, careful to avoid the low hanging stalactites that hovered like forbidding daggers at the entrance to the actual chamber. Immediately, his blood came alive, coursing powerfully through his veins; his senses became heightened and aware. The smell of death was as thick inside the damp hall as a cloud of moisture on a humid day, clearly revealing the cruelty of the night as well as the identities of those who had been within its walls.

Despite the subtle smell of sulfur, and the not so subtle stench of burned flesh, Marquis recognized the lingering scent of Valentine's arousal, the noxious odor of Dalia's terror, and the faint aroma of Jocelyn's frantic escape, each remnant persisting like a visceral reminder of the hideous events. In terms of energy, Jocelyn's residual imprint rose strongest from the back of the cave, from a hollow just beyond a stagnant pool of musty water. Dalia's presence cried out 126

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loudest from the stone slab, and Valentine's abhorrent stench marked a path back and forth between the death bed and the sacrificial altar like a heady trail of adrenaline laced with testosterone.

Marquis closed his eyes, allowing his already heightened senses to become even stronger. He was trying to detect whether or not anyone else had been in the chamber recently. There was no sign of another Dark One in the cavern. Nothing that gave a hint of Valentine's brothers, Salvatore or Zarek. Nothing that might reveal any other descendant of Jaegar in the close proximity. Clearly, Valentine had acted alone.

Without warning, the acrid stench Marquis had identified as Valentine's began to increase, all at once becoming stronger in the cavern. Marquis opened his eyes, wondering if he was receiving a psychic imprint from earlier. Something especially powerful. Perhaps an important clue that Valentine had left behind.

And then the scent grew stronger...unmistakable...a clear indication of something coming closer, until the entity emerged in the chamber and settled conspicuously near.

Marquis knew immediately that Valentine was there in the cavern with him, and the Dark One was hoping to remain undetected behind his poorly cloaked presence. He waved his hand across the shadowy cave, sending the many antique torches embedded in the sandstone walls into a fiery blaze of orange and red light; while at the same time, he used his mind to raise the room temperature to ninety-nine degrees Fahrenheit—two degrees higher than normal body 127

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temperature. Using infrared detection to identify any section of the air containing a hollow—a noticeable dip in temperature—Marquis scanned the interior for the anomaly.

The void was directly above him.

Marquis whirled around, leaping to the other end of the cave with preternatural speed just as Valentine materialized into view, raking his fully extended claws perilously close to Marquis's jugular. A high-pitched whistle buzzed through the air as the five seeking daggers swept past their target.

"How nice of you to join me," Marquis hissed, landing in a crouched, defensive stance. "But did you really think it would be that easy to sneak up on an Ancient?" He knew his enemy had hoped to score a quick, unexpected victory; he certainly had not shown up expecting to fight man-to-man.

Valentine roared his fury as he spun to face Marquis. "The night is still young," he purred. His raspy voice dripped with venom. Now that he was there, his pride would dictate that he finish what he started. He turned his bristling black eyes on Marquis, glaring straight through his soul with a murderous rage.

"That it is," Marquis drawled. "Yet all good things eventually come to an end, do they not, Dark One?"

Valentine sneered, "Shelby certainly did, my brother of light."

Marquis's fangs exploded in his mouth as he snarled a promise of retribution, all the while rocking back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet restlessly. He eyed the legendary vampire with contempt before finally settling into 128

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position, as silent as the night, his powerful muscles expanding and contracting in dangerous waves of readiness.

He could not believe his fortune.

Valentine Nistor.

Alone.

With him.

"Do not be so certain of your victory," Valentine spat.

"Arrogance does not become you, Marquis. And sunrise is a long ways away."

"Oh, I can assure you, my dark brother, this will not take long at all." Marquis's voice was a sultry caress of death as a raging fire of vengeance began to rise within him like the blistering lava of a volcano, ever ready to explode into a sweltering onslaught of retribution.

"If I recall, destroying Dalia did not take so long either,"

Valentine taunted. "Although, I hear your brother's death was an entirely different story: quite the drawn-out process, no?"

Marquis steadied himself. "Perhaps. But at least Shelby died with honor, and his soul now walks the Valley of Spirit and Light. You, on the other hand, will die like the wretched maggot you are and spend the rest of eternity in The Valley of Death and Shadows. We will see then what a long, drawn out process really is..."

Valentine's eyes narrowed into angry slits of derision as each vampire continued to try and goad the other into a prideful state of fury, hoping to gain the upper hand.

Emotions were an easily exploited weakness in mortal combat.

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They circled each other like two stalking leopards. Pacing.

Glowering. Waiting. Each one demonstrating his own physical prowess...promising the other a violent and painful death...until finally, a group of dagger-shaped stalactites broke free from the cave ceiling and crashed down around them, spurring the angry predators into action.

Valentine struck first, hurling a red-hot bolt of lightning directly at Marquis's heart. The chamber lit up with dazzling sparks of orange and blue electricity as the powerful bolt raced toward its target.

Marquis reacted so quickly the lightning never had a chance to connect. Holding both palms out in front of him, he intercepted the lethal missile and sent it sailing back at Valentine. He never once flinched as the bolt seared sweltering burns into his hands.

Valentine leapt adeptly to the side, laughing wickedly at the sight of Marquis's burning flesh.