Raven took a step toward the threshold, felt Mikhail’s instinctive protest. She stumbled unsteadily, fell just outside the door, and lay in a small forlorn heap. With an oath, Andre tried to yank her up, to push her inside, but Raven was limp, unable to move on her own. The vampire lifted her into his arms and carried her inside.
The rock house consisted of a large front room and a hole in the far corner where a ladder led to a lower chamber. The room was cold and dank. Mold grew in the cracks. There was a table and a long church bench. Andre waved his hand to light several candles. Raven’s heart stopped, then began to pound in alarm. Chained to the wall nearest the table, eyes dilated with terror, were a man and a woman. The two were dirty and in ragged clothing. Rips in the woman’s dress and the man’s shirt held the stains of blood. There were bruises on both of them, and the man had several burn marks down his right cheek.
The vampire’s smile was cruel and taunting as he surveyed his helpless victims. “Dinner, my dear, just for you.” He set Raven carefully on the bench as if she was fragile porcelain. Andre slowly glided gracefully across the stone floor, his red, soulless eyes on the woman. He took his time enjoying her terror, laughing at her husband’s impotent raging. As he yanked the woman free of the chain, the man struggled and threatened, cursed Raven. Andre dragged the woman to Raven’s side, forced her to her knees and held her still, one hand gripping her hair so that her throat was exposed.
His thumb slid over the pounding pulse. “Feed, my dear. Feel the hot blood pour into your veins, making you strong again. When you take her life you will have such power as you have never known. This is my gift to you. Infinite power.” The woman sobbed and moaned with terror. Her husband pleaded, swore, fought the chains that bound him. Raven sat up slowly and pushed back her heavy fall of hair with a trembling hand. Andre could have seduced his victims, entranced them so that they welcomed death, but he sought thrills at the expense of human terror. The adrenaline-laced blood was addicting, intoxicating. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her reaction. She could feel Mikhail in her, still and motionless, raging that he was not there to protect her from such a terrible decision.
Her large blue-violet eyes lifted to Andre’s face, expressive, over-bright, as if she was on the verge of tears. Her hand slid soothingly up the woman’s arm. She was extraordinarily gentle, trying to comfort without words. “You doubt me. Why? What have I done? I honestly can’t remember. I would never do such a thing, take a life like this, and neither would you. Why do you test me this way? Have I committed a crime I can’t remember? Why would you be so cruel to me?”
Andre’s face went dark, the red eyes changing to his normal dark brown. “Do not be so distressed.”
“Tell me, Andre. I can’t bear not to know. Did the other one force me to do something you can’t forgive?” She bowed her head as if ashamed. Her voice dropped even lower. “Take my life, Andre. Take your wrath out on me, not this poor, undeserving woman. I will leave if you do not wish my life bound to yours, although I have nowhere else to go.” She met his eyes so that he knew she meant it. “Take my life now, Andre.”
“No, Raven.”
“Then answer me: why this test? Is it because I’m not wholly like you, because I can’t go to ground or shape-shift? You are ashamed of me and wish to punish me.”
“Of course not.”
Raven put her arm around the woman. “I seem to recall, although I’m not certain, that you said you would hire reliable servants. Is this woman the one you spoke of?” Suddenly her face clouded. “Is she your mistress?” She sounded near hysterics, but her hand was still very gentle on the woman’s arm.
“No! No!” the woman protested, but there was confusion and dawning hope in her eyes. “I am not his mistress. That is my husband. We have done nothing wrong.”
Andre was clearly at a loss. He had taken Raven in a desperate attempt to save himself. If he forced her to kill, then she would become as dark and as lost as he. Something inside him shifted and turned as he stared down into the innocence in her eyes. “The woman speaks the truth, Raven. She is nothing to me. A servant, if you wish her.” His voice was lost and lonely, almost uncertain.
Raven reached out for his hand. His mind was a masterpiece of evil, rotted and twisted. Yet Raven felt sorrow for him. He had once been good, no different from Mikhail or Jacques, but in the dark isolation of his existence he had turned down a wrong path. Andre desperately wanted to feel, to be able to face the morning sun, witness a sunset again. He wanted to look in the mirror and not see his receding gum line and the ravages left by his depraved existence. It was an impossibility; no true vampire could ever face himself in the mirror without experiencing tremendous pain. Raven was his only hope and he clung to it. He wanted a miracle. Because she had been human, he had no idea of what she was capable or incapable of doing.
“Forgive me, Andre, if I have done something to cause you to doubt me,” she said gently, compassion welling up so that she wanted to cry. She could not save him, even if she did not belong with Mikhail. No one could. He was far too depraved and bloated with his false sense of power, far too addicted to the adrenaline in a terror-stricken kill. She hated herself for deceiving him, but her life and the lives of the human couple clearly hung in the balance.
His hand stroked her silky hair. “I am not angry with you, my dear, but you are weak and need nourishment.”
The woman stiffened, her face a mask of fear. She stayed very still, waiting for Raven’s reply. Raven looked confused. “But I can’t feed.” Deliberately she allowed Mikhail’s name to shimmer in her mind, and then she was clutching her head in agony. “I don’t know why; I can’t think. I think the other did something to make me this way.”
Andre dragged the woman up by her hair. “I will return in a few minutes. You see to it Raven comes to no harm.” His eyes were flat and cold. “Do not try to leave this place. I will know.”
“Andre, stay,” Raven whispered, fighting for him in spite of herself.
He swung away from her and sped out, away from the light, back toward the world of death and madness he was familiar with.
The woman clutched at Raven. “Please, let us go. He is evil; he will kill us, make us his slaves until our fear no longer amuses him.”
Raven pushed herself upright, desperately fighting dizziness. “He will know. He can see in the dark, smell you, hear your very heart beat.” The room was so cold and musty smelling, so depressing. The air itself was stale and told of death. With Raven’s sensitivity she could almost hear the screams of the countless victims who had been brought to this place, chained to the stained walls. She was every bit as frightened as the human woman was. “Who are you?”
“Monique Chancellor. That is my husband, Alexander. Why did you help me?”
“Guard your thoughts, Monique. He can read them.”
“He is
nosferatu
unclean. The vampire.” It was more of a statement than a question. “We must leave this place of death.”
Raven rose unsteadily to her feet, hanging on to the back of the chair, the table, to make her way to the door. She stared up at the stars, gazed slowly over the landscape in each direction, taking note of every rock wall, the cliffs rising behind the house. She studied the dwelling itself, the windows, the doors, the structures of the walls, paid particular attention to the wide open spaces leading to the house.
“Please, please.” The woman clawed at her. “Help us.”
Raven blinked to bring her into focus. “I’m trying to help you. Stay calm; keep out of his way. Draw as little attention to yourselves as possible.” She closed the door, having accomplished what she had hoped to do. Mikhail and Gregori would know as much detailed information as she could transmit.
“Who are you?” Alexander demanded suspiciously. He had pulled at his chains so much, she could see his wrists were raw.
Raven rubbed her pounding temple, a growing nausea gripping her stomach. “It isn’t a good idea to have ope
n wounds around him.” She could smell blood and her body, desperately weak, needed nourishment. Raven ignored the woman sobbing quietly in a corner and went to the man to see if she could find a way to ease his discomfort. As she bent to examine his wrist, his other hand whipped up to clutch a handful of her hair, yanking hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. He dragged her back against his chest so that both hands could grip her throat, fingers digging into soft flesh.
“Alexander, stop, what are you doing?” Monique cried.
“Monique, get the key to these cuffs,” Alexander ordered, his powerful fingers crushing Raven’s windpipe so that the room began to spin.
Raven could feel his fear, his frantic attempt to save his wife and himself. He was afraid she was a vampire, cruelly playing with them for some perverse enjoyment. Raven couldn’t blame him, but his hands were squeezing the life out of her.
Raven!
The cry was close, a ripple of fury moving through her mind.
Alexander’s hands were torn from her throat; there was a loud popping noise signaling broken bones. He was slammed into the wall behind them, held so that his feet dangled helplessly four feet from the floor. Monique screamed as the air rushed from her husband’s lungs. He began to strangle, his eyes bulging honibly.
Release him, Mikhail! Oh, God, please. I can’t bear to be responsible for another death. Ijust
can’t.Raven sank to the floor, drew up her knees, and huddled there, rocking. “Please,” she whispered aloud. “Release him.”
Mikhail fought his kiffing rage, managed to suppress it enough to release the human from his mind assault. He hurtled through the air, tracking Raven easily. He was barely aware of Gregori keeping pace with him to his left, of Aidan and Byron slightly behind him, of Eric and Tienn and a few others struggling to keep up some distance behind. None of them mattered. He had hunted vampires over many centuries and he had always felt a twinge of reluctance, of pity perhaps. There was none now.
Mikhail kept his fury tamped down so that it seethed and boiled like magma in a volcano, so that it sought to escape in any direction it could, needing a violent, explosive release. If he allowed it to seep out, the very earth, the winds, the creatures in the mountains would react. It would be a clear warning to the vampire. He felt no pain and he was well fed; Gregori had seen to that personally. The combination of their ancient blood was powerful beyond measure. Even so, a spot of blood soaked through the white feathers on the owl. Instinctively, Mikhail shifted and circled to stay downwind so that any passing breeze could not carry that scent to the vampire.
Into the night there came a cry of pure terror, evil laughter, a gloating triumph. Every Carpathian, so tuned to the land, felt the vibration of violence, the disturbance of power, the cycle of life and death. Raven, as psychically sensitive as she was, instantly found her mind drawn to the scene of violence.
Break off Raven.
Mikhail commanded it.
She pressed her hands to her temples. Andre was laughing, flinging himself from the branch of a tree atop a woman attempting to crawl away from him. A smaller body lay crumpled at the foot of the tree, pale and lifeless where he had dropped it. The woman moaned, pleaded for her life. The vampire laughed horribly again, then kicked her away from him, onily to force her to crawl back to him, begging to serve hсu “Andre! No, you cannot!” Raven yelled it aloud, dragging herself up to stumble to the door. She ran into the night, spun in a circle to catch the direction. Weakness overcame her and she fell heavily to lie immobile in the grass.
Monique followed her, dropping to her knees beside her. “What is it? I know you are not what my husband thinks. I know you are trying to save us.”
Team were running down Raven’s face. “He killed a child; he is taunting the mother. He will kill her also. I can’t save her.” Raven took what comfort she could as the woman cradled Raven’s head in her lap.
Monique touched the dark bruises at Raven’s throat. “I am sorry for what Alexander did to you. He is mad with anger and fear for us. You took a terrible risk. That monster might have killed you.”
Raven closed her eyes tiredly. “He still might. We can’t get away from him.”
The night around them carried disturbing vibrations. Somewhere deep inside the forest, an animal missed its prey and screamed its rage. An owl hissed; a wolf snarled.
Raven clutched Monique’s hand, was relieved when she could move her legs. “Come on. We have to get inside. Stay quiet and out of sight if you can. When he returns, he will be high as a kite and unpredictable.”
Monique helped Raven to her feet, slipping her arm around the smaller woman’s waist. “What did you do to Alexander when he hurt you?”
Raven walked reluctantly back to the stone house. “I did nothing to him.” She touched the bruises on her throat. Alexander had complicated things. Andre could not fail to notice the marks on her.
“You feel things we know nothing of,” Monique guessed uneasily.
“It is not a comfortable gift. He killed tonight. A woman, a child. I sent him out and traded our lives for theirs.”
“No!” Monique denied that. “You have nothing to do with what he chooses to do, any more than my husband is responsible for what that monster did to me. Alexander believes he should have found a way to protect me. He will not forgive himself. Don’t be like him, Raven.”
Raven stood on the stone steps and faced the moon-bathed land. The wind stirred and the glowing silver light darkened ominously. Monique gasped, clutched at Raven, tried to draw her into the comparative safety of the house. A red stain grew, spread, completely consumed the moon. A low moan rode on the wind, growing louder until it became a howl. A wolf lifted its muzzle to the bloodstained moon and howled in warning. A second joined in. The entire mountain rumbled ominously.
Monique whirled around and ran to her husband. “Pray with me, pray with me.”
Raven shut the door and leaned against it. “Don’t panic on me, Monique. We have a chance if we can stall him.”
Alexander glared at her, his arm protectively around his wife, his hand already swollen and sore-looking. “Don’t listen to her, Monique. She almost strangled me; she threw me against the wall with unbelievable strength. She is unclean.”
Raven rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I’m beginning to wish I did have all that power you think I have. I’d find a way to keep you from talking.”
“He is afraid for us.” Monique spoke in a conciliatory tone. “Can’t we take off his chains?”
“He would try to attack Andre the moment he returned.” Raven made a face at Alexander, completely exasperated with him. “That would get him killed fast.” She shivered, turning stricken eyes on Monique. “He comes. Stay very quiet, no matter what happens. Don’t draw attention to yourself.”
The wind outside howled, an eerie, lonely sound that faded away, leaving in its wake an unnatural silence. Raven heard her own heart beat in the void. She stepped backward just as the door splintered and cracked. The candle flames leapt, threw shadows on the wall, grotesque, macabre; then the lights were snuffed out.
“Come, Raven. We must leave now.” Andre snapped his fingers, holding out his hand. The vampire’s face was flushed with fresh blood. The glow of evil was in his eyes; his mouth was twisted with cruelty.
Raven regarded Andre with large, accusing eyes. “Why do you come to me like this? Tell me what is going on.”
He moved with blurring speed, and at the last moment, Raven remembered she, too, was capable of such feats. She felt his hot, foul breath, smelled death on him. His razor-sharp nails raked her arm as she ducked away. She pressed her small body into the corner. “Don’t try to force my compliance when a simple explanation will do.”
“You will regret this defiance,” he snarled, and hurled the church bench out of his path so hard that it crashed and splintered against the wall only inches from the shivering human couple.
A small moan of terror escaped Monique, and instantly the vampire whirled a
round, his eyes red and glazed with power. “You will crawl to me like the dog you are.” His voice was low, hypnotic, his eyes mesmerizing.
Alexander lunged to the end of his chains, trying to stop Monique, who went to the floor in obedience, her manner sensual and fawning. Raven walked calmly across the room to kneel down in Monique’s path. “Hear me, Monique. Don’t do this thing.” Her blue-violet eyes stared directly into the older woman’s. Raven’s voice was beautiful, purity itself, low and entrancing. It made the vampire’s voice appear foul and disgusting. A look of confusion, bewilderment, and shame crossed Monique’s blank face.
The vampire exploded into action, leaping the distance to Raven’s side, seizing her by the hair, yanking her backwards, nearly off her feet.
The world erupted around them. The night itself seemed to rage, the wind screaming and howling, gusting across the wide open space to beat at the windows. A dark funnel cloud boiled down from the seething sky and tore the roof from the structure; the whirling mass lifted furniture and scattered treasures collected over the years, Monique wailed loudly and dragged herself to Alexander, where they clung together. Voices hissed and whispered, low murmurs of fury, of accusation, of condemnation. The mountain rumbled ominously, and the furthermost wall burst outward, spewing rocks and mortar as if dynamited.
Dark Prince (Dark Series - book 1) Page 34