Blood Destiny (14 page)

Marquis stared down at the scorching fire blistering his palms and began to gather its energy. He could hear the wind picking up outside of the cavern, lashing wildly through the valley, howling its own rising fury, and he could feel the turbulence as it began to form rows of dark, skeletal, funnel clouds, preparing to unleash the deadly result of the vampires' rage in the surrounding canyon. But he just didn't care.

Heat turned to fire. Fire turned to radiation. Radiation became two enormous balls of iridescent red flames, spinning and turning in Marquis's hands as the glowing conflagration pulsated out from their cores. And then, without warning, 130

Blood Destiny

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Marquis hurled both balls at preternatural speed, each in quick succession of the other. The first was aimed directly at Valentine, veering slightly off to the left. The second was thrust into the vacant space to his right, the exact spot Valentine would have to leap for in an effort to dodge the first ball.

The weapon struck its target.

Squarely in the chest.

Valentine howled with pain as his body became a hot blaze of fire and radiation. And then he leapt the entire distance of the cave in one smooth motion, grasping Marquis forcefully by the shoulders as he flew through the air.

Their powerful bodies came together like two large cannon-balls colliding in the night, sending both of them spiraling backward into the murky pond of water behind them. Valentine rolled frantically in the shallow pool in an effort to extinguish the flames, and Marquis seized the opportunity to attack.

Slashing deep with his jagged claws, he pierced the wall of Valentine's chest and dug deep into the cavity. He wrenched at the muscle, trying to extract the heart, even as he struck at the vampire's throat with his other hand, slicing straight through the Dark One's jugular.

Valentine shouted in pain, and his fangs elongated.

Harnessing all of his remaining strength, the son of Jaegar lunged at Marquis in a desperate attempt to rip out his jugular—to take his enemy into the next world with him.

But Marquis moved far too swiftly.

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He jerked back, avoiding the enormous serrated teeth before they could puncture his throat, and snatched Valentine up by the shirt with two powerful fists. He launched him across the cavern hard, sending him crashing into a solid wall of limestone. He heard the vampire's bones splinter as his massive torso struck forcefully upon impact.

And then Valentine's body slumped to the cave floor and landed in a seated position.

Blood spewed forth from the Dark One's throat, his spine too mangled to hold him upright. Choking on his own blood, Valentine fought desperately to stay alive. Both vampires were warriors. And with their shared centuries of discipline, as well as lightning-quick reflexes, neither one was going out that easily.

The Dark One quickly constructed an invisible barrier around his body—a pulsating force field of dense waves of energy—in a fevered attempt to hold Marquis back long enough to regenerate. He was losing blood far too quickly, which was precisely what Marquis wanted...to drain his enemy of his vital life force. To render him powerless to fight back. To dispatch his head or remove his heart in order to prevent regeneration. And to finally incinerate his body so that he could never rise again.

Marquis watched as Valentine instinctively released his incisors and sank the sharp fangs deep into his own hand, rapidly filling it with venom until it began to swell up like a blow-fish. Using a sharp claw from his other hand, he tore a deep gash into the swollen flesh, forcing the venom to seep 132

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out to the surface, and then he held it up against his throat as a poultice.

"You will not kill me this night, Ancient One," Valentine stuttered, choking on the words. He was still gurgling on his own blood, yet he managed to growl a low, drawn-out snarl just the same. His throat was beginning to repair itself, the blood loss lessening.

Marquis tore wildly at the circular barrier then, like a madman unleashed in a rage, rapidly destroying each powerful layer, one at a time, until the entire obstruction finally came down.

With a fury so great the entire mountain shook, he went straight for the kill.

His hands became crimson-red blurs of light. His claws slashed wildly at the Dark One's arteries as he tore hundreds of lacerations into Valentine's flesh, long before the vampire could lift a weakened hand in defense.

Blood spurted out like geysers erupting from the earth, two powerful streams shooting straight from Valentine's upper arm and inner thigh. And then Marquis lunged at his enemy's throat, determined to reopen the carotid artery...one last time.

Without warning, an enormous hand grasped at the mutilated body, snatching Valentine up by the arm just as the roof of the cavern began to cave in. Marquis covered his head reflexively, deflecting the falling rocks with his mind while whirling around to see what had happened.

When the rock slide stopped, Salvatore Nistor was kneeling over his injured brother in the middle of the cave as if he 133

Blood Destiny

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were a coiled cobra, frantically injecting Valentine's wounds with venom from his fangs. Salvatore was an ancient descendant of Jaegar—one who was well studied in black magic—and his venom was powerful.

His head snapped up, and he turned to glare at Marquis, a vicious snarl escaping his throat. Throwing back his wild mane of banded, black-and-red hair, he roared a deafening warning to the powerful descendant of Jadon, and then he leapt to his feet like an angry jungle cat about to pounce.

"Perhaps you should pick on someone your own size, son of Jadon!" His hard, angled jaw was set in a line of unyielding defiance and rage. "Come play with me, instead, Marquis!"

Standing with his arms out at his side, Salvatore began to build a fiery blaze of radiation. Only, instead of constructing two balls of fire to hurl at his enemy, he began to encase his own body in the burning arc of flames, until he was standing in the cavern glowing—a living pillar of fire.

Marquis recognized the arrogant display of power for what it was, a masterful attempt at intimidation, and he quickly built a matching arc around his own body; only, he didn't stop there. He absorbed the flames until they completely consumed his core, and the red-hot blazes shot out from his mouth, eyes, nose, and ears in a blistering display of sorcery.

A much more difficult and deadly configuration.

Salvatore and Marquis leapt simultaneously into attack positions, two blazing predators dying to strike first. Marquis was about to lunge when he was stopped short by the sudden reappearance of Valentine, who was quickly regenerating with the help of Salvatore's ancient venom. The sadistic vampire 134

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leapt effortlessly to his feet at his brother's side, and then he jumped completely over Marquis, resembling a runner taking a hurdle, before crouching low on the opposite side of the cavern and growling with satisfaction.

They had him surrounded.

Marquis became deathly quiet. Listening. Anticipating.

Waiting for the slightest vibration to indicate which of the two brothers intended to attack first. To his surprise, the first hint of movement did not come from either one of them. Rather, Nathaniel Silivasi, his own brother, silently materialized in the cavern, his eyes lethal and alert, his body swollen with power.

He was perfectly poised and prepared for battle as he stood back-to-back with Marquis.

"Forgive my disobedience, brother," Nathaniel murmured,

"but the opportunity was simply irresistible. Besides, I would hate to leave you at a couple's dance without a date."

Marquis smiled a wicked grin and glanced over his shoulder to assess his younger sibling. It was blatantly obvious that he had consumed an enormous amount of blood: His muscles rippled with raw power; his eyes were vivid with enhanced acuity; and his skin positively glistened with a fresh sheen of vitality.

Nathaniel would be unstoppable.

"I can always ground you later," Marquis grumbled, a deep chuckle reverberating in his chest. He turned his gaze to Salvatore and Valentine and bowed slightly at the waist.

"Shall we dance, boys?"

Before they could strike, a dark, malevolent laughter filled the chamber—as a fourth figure shimmered into view. The 135

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deep, resonant voice came from Zarek Nistor, as he stood next to his twin, scanning his body to assess the extent of his remaining injuries. "I believe it is considered rude to start a party before all the guests have arrived," he snarled.

Marquis chuckled, more than happy to welcome the foolish vampire to the slaughter.

And then a sixth voice rang out, "I couldn't agree with you more." Kagen Silivasi stood leisurely at the entrance to the chamber, his powerful arms crossed idly over his chest.

"Luckily, it would appear as if we are all accounted for."

Salvatore sneered, "All but Shelby, of course." He sighed.

"Oh yes, Valentine, did you do something to...discourage...the youngest Silivasi from attending this night?" His laughter was evil. "Speaking of which, I must come and visit my new nephew soon; I understand his mother was simply delicious."

Nathaniel, Marquis, and Kagen all launched into the air at the same time, lunging with supernatural speed at their enemies. There was a hideous clash of flesh and bone. Claws and fangs. Blood and sweat. As hidden weapons were drawn and fury became a living, breathing entity within the cavern.

And then the walls of the cave simply buckled and exploded outward, hurtling all six vampires into the open valley, beneath a suddenly blackened, violent sky, where a war of untold proportions was about to take place.

A war that would give new meaning to the words Blood Moon.

Lightning sizzled and thunder roared.

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And then the Great One spoke: "There will be no battle, tonight!" The voice rang out like a clash of cymbals as the Sovereign lord of the house of Jadon, Napolean Mondragon, descended from the sky, his feral red eyes ablaze with power, his face like a granite statue, etched with authority and resolve. Deep lines of age framed the Ancient's face as his striking silver and black hair whipped furiously in the wind, giving off a ghostly appearance of omniscience and immortality.

Napolean was the chosen monarch of the descendants of Jadon and an adversary far too powerful to oppose, to the descendants of Jaegar. His words were law among the Lighter Vampires, and his legendary prowess in war commanded unyielding respect from the Dark Ones. He remained deathly quiet, awaiting the reply of the eldest brothers.

Salvatore Nistor responded with a hiss. He looked up at Napolean and crossed his arms, before glancing off into the distance as if he were thinking it over.

Marquis figured the formidable enemy was assessing the situation from a strategic point of view, which only made sense. One did not live to be as old as Salvatore by being reckless.

"I am not afraid to fight you, Napolean," the Dark One scowled, his words ringing only partially true.

Then you are a fool, Marquis thought. Anyone with half a brain would be afraid to fight Napolean. But what the dark son of Jaegar clearly had no fear of...was death...which was good—because Marquis was more than prepared to give it to him.

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"But to take on you, Marquis, Nathaniel, and Kagen..."

Salvatore's voice trailed off.

Napolean remained quiet, awaiting the enemy's decision, while Marquis studied Salvatore's face. The ancient Dark One had to know they couldn't possibly win; the odds were stacked too heavily against them—with or without Napolean.

And unlike Valentine, Salvatore wasn't one to take unnecessary risks. Still, Marquis cold only hope. He had made a promise to avenge Shelby's death, and he had no intention of letting Valentine walk, not under the cover of his brothers or the protection of Napolean.

"We will agree to retreat," Salvatore finally conceded, his voice thick with contempt, "but only if you guarantee a safe exit."

Napolean turned to Marquis. "Warrior, what say you?"

"Never!" Marquis thundered. "As far as I'm concerned, Salvatore can burn in hell with his brother."

Salvatore hissed, his eyes glowing red, but he said nothing.

Just make one move, Marquis thought. If it please the gods—just one move.

Napolean regarded Marquis thoughtfully, and then he floated down until he stood at eye level with the enormous vampire, and the two engaged each other's eyes like powerful Vikings of old meeting on an ancient battlefield.

"Marquis..." The Sovereign lord spoke calmly but firmly, giving each word great consideration. "Under our laws, you have the right of vengeance on your side, but do you not see the sky?"

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Marquis grumbled and reluctantly looked up.

There were terrible veins of purple and white lightning flashing in the heavens as far as the eye could see—angry whips of fire surging with violent intensity. The endless arcs spanned the sky from east to west and back again, even as the unforgiving bolts shot to the earth with fury, striking the land with such incredible force that the earth shook beneath the merciless assault. Fire and brimstone fell from the heavens, erupting into hot blazes all over the forest as thunder clapped and roared in its wake.

Napolean waved his hand out toward the valley. "Do you not see the land?"

The sheer enormity of the dense black clouds merging together in an awesome funnel of rage was enough to take one's breath away. Heat and moisture were being sucked into a violent swirl of power, wind, and wrath. It was as if every cloud for a hundred miles had joined together in a dark conspiracy to wage war upon the land and its inhabitants.