Authors: Christine Feehan
Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal Fiction, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Fiction, #Vampires, #Fantasy, #General, #Love Stories
She heard the echo of that familiar male voice deep inside her mind, her soul, a cry of denial followed immediately by a strange warmth. The wounds in her shoulder burned, but she was used to pain and shut it out. The strange melodic chanting of words in an ancient tongue shimmered in her mind and provided her with some solace. Still, she couldn't ignore the blood streaming from her body. She had not fed in several days and needed sustenance. Mixing the rich soil from the priest's garden with her own healing saliva, she packed the gaping lacerations. Very carefully, deliberately, she braided her hair in preparation for battle. Before she followed the undead to his lair, she needed to feed. The city was filled with the homeless, with unfortunate creatures who would have no chance to escape her, even in her weakened condition.
Nicolae Von Shrieder hunkered down atop the massive cliff overlooking the city. He was closer this time than he had ever been. He was certain of it. She was out there somewhere, tired and hurt and vulnerable, fighting her war alone. He felt her pain every moment of his waking hours. When he closed his eyes on the rising sun, he felt gut-wrenching agony crawling through her body, through his body.
Patience. He had learned patience in a hard school. Centuries of living had taught him discipline and patience above all else. He was an ancient with powerful gifts, yet he could not bend her to his will. He could not summon her to him. He had taught her well. Too well.
Far off, he heard the cry of a raptor, a high keening alerting him, and he lifted his face toward the stars. Very slowly he straightened, rising to his full height. "I thank you, my brother," he murmured softly. The wind caught his voice and whipped it out, carrying the soft sound through the dense treetops and taking it further, over the city. "Our hunt begins, then."
He would never forget the shocking moment when she had first connected with him. A child in sheer terror. Her pain and agony had been so sharp, so acute and overwhelming, her young mind had reached across time and space to merge with him. Mind to mind. Even as a child, she had been a powerful psychic. The images he received from her had been so vivid, so detailed, he had lived the nightmare with her, through her. The brutal slaying of her parents, the monster draining their blood in front of the child.
He closed his eyes against the memories, but they flooded his mind as she so often had. He had been continents away, with no way of tracking her, finding her. Yet he lived with her through the repeated cruelties, the beatings, through the countless rapes and murders she had been forced to witness. She had crawled into her mind, seeking refuge, and found him there. He whispered to her, distracted her, shared his knowledge with her. A mere child taught to kill. He had no other gift to give her. No other way of saving her.
Those were hideous years, years of hopeless seeking. The world was a very large place when one was looking for one small child. He was an ancient, sworn to protect mortals and immortals alike. A powerful being, a hunter and destroyer of the vampire, sent out centuries earlier by his prince, sworn to rid the world of such evil. He had tried to tell her there was a difference between vampire and hunter, but in his mind, she saw his battles, his kills. She saw the darkness in him, spreading like a stain over his soul. And she was afraid to put her trust in him.
Nicolae stood completely still, raw power clinging to his muscular frame as he presented his leather-clad arm to his traveling companion. The large owl circled overhead once, a lazy spiral, then plummeted fast, talons outstretched. The raptor landed on Nicolae's forearm, and Nicolae bent his head toward its wicked beak. "You've picked up the scent of our prey."
The round, beady eyes that stared back at him were filled with intelligence. The bird flapped its wings, once, twice, as if in answer, then launched itself into the air. Nicolae stared after it, a faint smile in no way softening the hard edge of his mouth. She was hurt. She was chasing a vampire and she was injured.
There was no denying the connection between them, yet she refused to acknowledge him, to answer him. He had no idea how she could be so strong when she lived with such constant pain, but he could do no other than find her. He had never seen her, nor had she spoken to him, mind to mind or otherwise, yet he felt he would know her the moment he laid eyes on her.
He turned slowly, his body tall and muscular, a blend of elegance and sinew. The wind tugged at his long hair, black as a raven's wing, so that he drew it to the nape of his neck and secured it with a leather thong. There was a fluid, animal quality to his movements as he stretched, lifted his nose to scent the wind.
It had been many long centuries since Vladimer Dubrinsky, the Prince of Nicolae's people, had sent his warriors into the world to hunt the vampire. Nicolae, like so many others, had been sent far from his homeland without comfort of native soil or brethren. He had accepted that he would have no hope of finding a lifemate, but his duty to his people in those dire days had been clear. That bleak time had been filled with battles, with killing. The darkness had spread slowly, Nicolae fighting it every inch of the way. A new Prince had taken Vladimer's place and still Nicolae fought on. Alone. Enduring. Deep within him, the inevitable darkness had spread, consuming him until he knew he could wait no longer. He would have to seek the dawn, to end his own existence, or he would become the very thing he had hunted. And then she had entered his life. Back then, she had been a terrified child in desperate need. Now she was a lethal fighting machine.
Nicolae stood above the city and stared down at the lights twinkling like so many stars. "Where are you?" he murmured aloud. "I am close to you. I feel you near to me this time. Finally I am in the vicinity of your lair—I know I am."
She had entered his life so many long years ago. They had lived in each other's minds while a depraved monster had tortured a helpless little girl. Nicolae had forced himself to feel what she felt, refusing to leave her alone in her living hell. He had made the decision to train her when he could not find a way to get her to speak with him. And he had succeeded, all too well, in teaching her to kill. Where once violence had been his world, now his entire existence was dedicated to finding her. In a way, she had been his salvation.
Nicolae stepped off the edge of the cliff. Easily. Casually. Dissolving into mist as he did so. He streaked through the sky on the trail of the vampire, following the owl as it moved quickly through the night.
Nicolae had formulated a loose plan of action. When he found the young woman, he would take her to his homeland, take her before the Prince, Vladimer's son, Mikhail Dubrinsky. Surely the healers would find a way to help her. A vampire had converted her, made her a creature of the night, and the tainted blood flowing in her veins was an acid that burned her day and night. The young child had grown into a woman, honed in the fires of hell, filled with the battle experience of an ancient. Nicolae had imparted that knowledge to her, techniques only one of his kind should have. He had helped to create her; he needed to find a way to heal her.
The scent of the undead was a foul stench to Nicolae, even as the vampire tried desperately to mask his presence from the hunters. The trail led through the city itself, deep in its underbelly where there were no streetlights and no nice homes. Dogs barked as Nicolae passed overhead, but no one took notice. And then he caught the other scent. Drops of blood mingled with the vampire's spoor.
It was the woman, he was certain of it. His woman. He had come to think of her as belonging to him and he'd found, over the years, he was possessive of her. Like other males of his kind, he had long since become accustomed to feeling no emotion, yet at times he felt little flares of unexpected jealousy and fear on her behalf. He wondered if he was feeling her emotions as he shared her mind, but he had no answers. In truth, it didn't matter to him.
The only thing that mattered was finding her. He had no other choice. She had become his savior, even as he was attempting to save her.
He noticed where the huntress had broken away from the vampire's trail and veered off into the city. Nicolae knew immediately she was seeking blood. She had wounds, and she probably had not fed in several days.
He found her prey in an alley between two buildings. The man was young and muscular, half sitting against the wall, a small smile on his face. His head lolled slightly when Nicolae bent to examine him, but his lashes fluttered. The man was alive.
Nicolae knew he should be relieved to see she had not killed her prey, only taken what was necessary from him as he had so painstakingly drilled into her, but in truth, he wanted to throttle the man. Entering his mind, Nicolae learned she had lured him to her with a promise of paradise, with a sexy enticing smile, and her victim had willingly followed her.
The owl called to him impatiently from the roof of a building to his left. They were hunting, it reminded him. Nicolae was alarmed by his own lack of discipline. Initially he had wondered if the female child might be his lifemate when they had connected so strongly, but over the years, when she steadfastly refused to speak to him, he had decided it must not be so. Yet now, considering his odd reaction to her male prey, he wondered again.
Carpathian males lost all emotions and the ability to see in color by the time they turned two hundred, and so it had been for him. It was a bleak existence, relying on one's integrity to live honorably until a life-mate could be found. Only a true lifemate, the other half of each male's soul, could restore emotion and color to him. All the while the insidious temptation to feel for just one moment beckoned the males. If they succumbed and chose to kill while feeding, they became the very thing they hunted—the vampire.
Nicolae took to the air, streaking away from temptation. Away from the young man who had been close to her. The young man who had felt her body against his body. Felt the warmth of her breath on his throat. Her lips moving sensuously over his skin. The erotic, white-hot bite of pleasure/pain. A red haze, treacherous and blazing out of control, slipped into his head, making it nearly impossible to think clearly. Nicolae had the sudden urge to go back and rip out the man's throat. The desire burned hot and bright, his gut clenching and a strange roaring filling his ears, his mind. He turned in midair.
The owl changed direction, flying toward his face, preventing him from continuing in that direction, beak open wide and eyes staring directly into his.
You said it was forbidden to kill any but the vampire
! The feminine voice was frightened, a soft denial, almost pleading.
You said never to kill when feeding and never to feed when killing
.
At the long-awaited sound of that voice, Nicolae's world turned upside down. He tumbled through the sky while the gray and dark of the night were replaced with shimmering, dazzling silver and brilliant colors. It was like a fireworks display, bursting all around him, robbing him of his ability to breathe, even to see. He closed his eyes against the assault on his senses, struggling to regain control.
The owl struck him hard just as she called to him a second time.
Pull up, you're falling. Pull up now!
There was terror in her voice.
Warmth spread, calmed him, and he righted himself. She had given him life again. Saved him from eternal darkness. His lifemate. The only woman capable of preventing him from turning vampire.
At long last she had spoken to him. Years of silence had conditioned him to believe she would never voluntarily speak to him, but when he was in danger from the raging beast within, she had leapt to save him in spite of her every resolve not to. She had filled the bleakness of his gray existence with colors and life.
Where are you? How badly are you hurt
? he asked, praying she would continue to communicate with him.
Leave this place. I vowed if you ever came here, if you found me, I would not hunt you because you saved me. Go away from here. I don't want to have to kill you, but I will if you force me.
I am not vampire. I am Carpathian. There is a difference.
Her sigh was soft in his mind.
So you say, but I know nothing of Carpathians. I have only met the undead, with their voices so sweet and compelling. Voices such as yours
.
Why would I teach you not to kill your prey if I were vampire
? He was patient. He could afford to be patient. She was his world now, the only thing that mattered to him. He had found her, and he would find a way to make her see the difference between a dangerous creature who had chosen to lose his soul, and a warrior fighting to maintain his honor.
I will give you no other warning. If you wish to live, leave this place and never come back.
Again he heard the soft, pleading note in her voice, felt it in his mind. She probably didn't even know it was there, but he heard and it filled him with elation. Nicolae believed that she would try to destroy him. She was strong and well disciplined. He had taught her well, and she was a fast, apt pupil.
They were connected, mind to mind, so Nicolae felt the sudden stillness in her. Instinctively he knew that she had reached the lair of the vampire. The undead was wounded, doubly dangerous, and in his own lair he would have numerous safeguards and traps.
Get out of there. I am close
—
I will destroy the vampire. It is unnecessary for you to take chances with your life
.
This is my city, my home. My people, under my protection. I don't share with the undead. Leave
. She closed herself off to him, slamming a mind block in place, a strong barrier he didn't bother attempting to penetrate.
Nicolae sped through the sky, the owl keeping pace with him, eyes searching for signs, senses flaring out to test the air for the noxious trail. He didn't bother to attempt to track Destiny; he had taught her too well. Her trail was nearly nonexistent. Without the wound, he would never have caught her scent, and she had already dealt with the laceration so that there was no more telltale spoor for him to follow.