Dark Storm

by Christine Feehan

  “But the killing of these jaguar women, that has nothing to do with his followers, other than they bring the women to him,” Dax said. “At least that’s my suspicion. I need you to confirm that for me and see if you can follow the trail.”

  Riley nodded. “I said I would and I meant it.” She gestured toward the burnt ashes. “That changes nothing, but it was after me, wasn’t it?”

  Dax nodded. “Mitro will do anything to destroy you. You have to understand, his ego, his vanity is enormous. He believes himself superior to all beings, all species. Remember the village in the Amazon?”

  She shuddered, giving him one look of reprimand. “It’s impossible to forget.”

  He stroked a caress down her long hair. “He needs to be worshipped. That need drives him all the time. He fears nothing on this earth but Arabejila—his lifemate—and her blood is strong in you.”

  Riley made a little face at him. “When I’m dead and in the ground, I’ve got a few things I want to say to that woman. I longed for adventure when I was teaching at the university, but I have to tell you, thanks to Arabejila, normal seems really, really perfect.”

  Dax found his mouth actually curving into a smile at the little bite in her voice. He hastily tried to hide it, knowing it wasn’t the smartest move on his part, smiling when she was a little annoyed. He took her hand and urged her gently toward Riordan.

  “Take us to the home of the woman who disappeared most recently.”

  Riley shook her head. “Not there. The doctor’s office. Her clinic. Let’s go there first.”

  Riordan frowned. “There’re too many people in and out. You’ll never get a clear trail.”

  “If you see a pregnant woman walking down the street, can you tell she’s a jaguar woman? I was introduced to Jasmine, and I couldn’t tell by look or scent that she was any different than a human woman. Can you? By scent maybe?” Riley asked.

  Dax had to concede she had a point. “No, the jaguar is usually well hidden, especially in a pregnant woman.”

  “So the common thread has to be the doctor they choose to see. She has to be how they target the women. They can’t just randomly pick a woman walking down the street, not if your theory that Mitro wants jaguar babies for some nefarious purpose is correct. If this Dr. Silva is the only doctor jaguar women trust, then once Mitro knows that, he can figure out that the majority of the women who go to her are probably jaguar. That takes the guess factor out of the game.”

  Riordan nodded. “Do you think you can catch the trail even with the number of people in and out of that place?”

  “Mitro can’t be getting the information himself. He wouldn’t use a watcher,” Dax said. “He can’t risk weakening himself. He has to have a human aiding him. And whoever it is wouldn’t just be hanging around outside. Someone would notice eventually.”

  “You think his puppet actually works at the clinic?” Riordan asked.

  “That would make sense,” Riley said. A small shiver went through her body. “Whoever is helping Mitro sees these women, talks to them and probably has access to their medical histories. They work there and might even deliberately befriend these women. The women would be unsuspecting if they ran into one another somewhere else. Not every one of Dr. Silva’s patients is jaguar. How could they be? Does she turn everyone else away?”

  “No, of course not. She sees many human patients as well,” Riordan said. “No one will be there at this time of night.”

  Riley shrugged. “I’m perfectly okay with that. I thought we were just going to pick up a trail. I don’t want to run into anything that vampire has created.”

  Riordan flashed a grin. “Where’s the fun in that, ma’am?”

  Riley sent him a look from under her lashes, her mouth curving slightly, but she didn’t answer as she followed Riordan to the car.

  Dax found the idea of traveling in a vehicle silly when they could just fly and get there much faster. “Why?”

  “We need to fit in,” Riordan explained. “With the new technology, we have to be more careful than ever and appear human.”

  “No one is around. Your home is secluded. Let’s just get this done,” Dax said.

  Riley raised her hand. “I don’t fly. I just thought you might like to know that before you make a decision. I have feet, not wings.”

  Dax caught the little flutter of excitement as the image of the dragon came into her head. He was grateful she didn’t mention the dragon to Riordan, although the Carpathian hunter would assume he simply had shifted into the mythical creature, using the illusion for flight. The Old One was not friendly. He accepted Dax and Dax’s woman, but the rest of them—he might consider barbecuing them.

  It wouldn’t do to have a giant dragon breathing fire over a major city. It would end up on YouTube. There was laughter in Riley’s voice.

  I am unfamiliar with YouTube.

  She sent him images, but he still couldn’t quite grasp the concept. Computers and television had to be seen first before he fully understood it. Nevertheless, she was right, it wouldn’t do to have the Old One in the skies where airplanes thought it was their space. As far as the red dragon was concerned, the skies were his dominion.

  Dax wrapped his arms around Riley and took to the sky, masking his presence from any who might be out. He didn’t want to argue about fitting in or using a vehicle. He didn’t like that method of travel.

  Riordan’s laughter echoed in his mind. I suppose it would be difficult to get used to modern ways after all this time. We were lucky to have seen history unfold. Cars and planes are necessary to us.

  Dax took the time to enjoy holding Riley in his arms. She clutched him tightly, her face, rather than being buried against his shoulder, was turned toward the wind as usual, her long hair streaming around them, brushing his face and shoulders like silken threads.

  You love this, don’t you?

  Her laughter filled his mind. You know I do. I can’t help it. Isn’t this the most incredible experience? The stars above us, the lights below, the wind in our faces? Doesn’t it make you feel alive?

  He took flying for granted. He’d been doing it for centuries, but now that he was no longer in the volcano, he could appreciate the freedom it gave him. Riley gave him so much more. He was seeing through fresh eyes, experiencing flying for the first time all over again and like Riley—because of Riley—he felt exhilarated. Each time they took to the air, he found joy spilling into him. Hers, his—it didn’t matter who felt it first. It was there.

  His emotions had returned, but because he wasn’t used to feeling, he reverted to using logic, not trusting the intensity around anyone but Riley. She was at ease in the modern world, yet she managed to function in his world with grace and intelligence even when she was afraid.

  She had a way of slipping inside him—into his soul. He knew the Old One felt it as well. As much as the dragon didn’t want to feel affection, he was far too emotional not to make those connections. He was fiercely loyal and Riley and Dax were his only family now. He had been protector of a large family unit. The Old One was not a solitary creature as many might think, and Riley had gotten into the dragon’s soul as well.

  Dax found he was still shaken by the knowledge that she existed—that in his darkest hour, he’d found his lifemate. He had long ago given up any hope of such a thing. He had no idea the intensity of emotion a man could feel for a woman. At times his growing love for Riley was a storm inside of him, a whirling tornado that threatened his stability. He’d always been stoic and calm, yet she shook the entire foundation of his carefully controlled world.

  She made him feel vulnerable, exposed to the world whenever he looked at her. He knew it showed, the way she made him feel. He hadn’t expected that she could do that to him, make him feel so much that the solitary man he’d become would do anything
to keep her.

  He found himself fascinated with her smile, watching for it—needing it the way his kind needed the soil. He loved the way her eyes lit up and her face changed the moment her lips curved. He wanted to be the one to bring that smile to her face. There was serenity in her and yet, she had a sense of fun about her which made him think of the possibilities.

  Her inevitable mourning for the loss of her mother was so deep even the Old One tried to comfort her. That told Dax she loved without reservation, with her entire heart and soul. He had never considered that she would feel that same intensity, that deeply about him. He felt he’d been handed a miracle.

  Dax rubbed his chin on the top of her head, feeling the silky waterfall of thick black hair against his skin. He found it astonishing how quickly a man could adapt to being with a woman. She seemed like a part of him already. He was aware of her every breath, her very heartbeat. He could see why lifemated males rarely hunted. They had too much to lose, and they could so easily be distracted at that crucial moment.

  It was necessary to have Riley track Mitro; she was the only one who could do it so fast. And the vampire needed to be stopped, but Dax didn’t have to like it.

  As if sensing his thoughts, Riley turned her face up to his. I’m afraid at times, Dax, but I’ve never felt so alive, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with you.

  Their minds weren’t connected, yet she was so tuned to him she had to be catching part of his concerns, the lifemate bond at work. It was nearly impossible to hide anything from a lifemate, nor would he want to.

  I chose a profession I thought I’d love because I have such a love of languages, but I find the students come in and they don’t love all the various languages in the same way. I’ve always longed for adventure. I thought my abilities would carry me into interesting situations, but instead, I became bogged down in the same dull routine.

  Riley held her arms out as if she was hugging the night sky, her face turned up toward the stars as they flew over the city. Her soft laughter teased his senses.

  If I forget to tell you thank you for these experiences later, I’m saying it now.

  He didn’t know how to tell her she turned him inside out sometimes, so he tightened his hold on her, drawing her closer to the warmth and shelter of his body. He was keeping her in danger—worse, subjecting her to the depraved cruelty of a monster—yet she was thanking him.

  I’ll keep you safe. It was the best he could do.

  She turned her face up against his chest and rubbed like a cat. I know you will. Still, I can’t help being afraid when some horrible ratlike creature as big as a dog is staring at me with red eyes and strings of saliva dripping from its mouth.

  I don’t like to feel your fear. It is a new experience for me, this emotion and yours is intense. Especially fear.

  She rubbed her body against him again, much like a cat, sending fingers of arousal crawling down his spine and up his thighs. A fire started in his belly and spread down to settle in his groin.

  Behave yourself, päläfertiilam, we have work to do.

  19

  The clinic was small, but very neat. It was dark inside, but with her acute vision, Riley had no trouble seeing inside to the dark, wide-planked floor and the cool, mint-green walls. The rooms, even the lobby, smelled of disinfectant. The three of them each spread out to take one room at a time on their own, hoping to detect the taint of Mitro.

  If Riordan hadn’t managed to do so by now, Riley feared it would only be the call of blood that would lead them to him—and although Dax had taken Arabejila’s blood many times over the centuries, his blood had mingled with hers. The tie was there, but very faint. No, Riley knew if anyone was going to feel that feeble trace, it would be her.

  After seeing Dax’s memories, those terrible images in his head about Katalina and her unborn child as well as Juliette’s friend and her unborn child, and feeling unable to comfort him, she was determined to do this for him. She would lead him to Mitro, and he would destroy the vampire once and for all. I’m counting on you, Old One. She whispered it in her mind like a mantra. To keep him safe for me.

  She let the two hunters go through the examining rooms and even back to Dr. Silva’s office. She headed for the reception desk and the files. Whoever chose the victims for Mitro had to have access to the medical records—and she was banking on whoever filed them. Mitro would want to know which women were jaguar, where they lived and everything else about them. Their records would have each patient’s address. And whoever was doing the filing was touching each and every record and leaving that tiny invisible trace behind.

  Her mother and grandmother and all the women who had held gifts before her had given those gifts to her for one purpose. This was her moment, her time. She was the one who had to point the hunters in the direction of the prey.

  At first, as she casually opened drawers and touched each file, she felt nothing at all—and she should have, right? She took a deep breath and let it out, stilling her mind, reaching not only with the gifts the earth had given her, but also with the enhanced senses her blood exchanges with Dax had given her. Still, nothing.

  She stood for a moment looking up and down the stacks of files, the endless shelves of them and the cabinet set near the doctor’s office. This had to be the right place. She knew she was right. What was she really looking for? Not the clerk. The shadow. The one directing the clerk. The slice of a shadow would be inside that human puppet, and Arabejila had left her one more priceless gift—her bloodline. Her blood called to Mitro’s. If there was a sliver, even a small shadow in the clerk and Mitro had put it there, her blood would know.

  The idea of any connection to him was so repugnant she actually stood there for a moment with her stomach twisting into knots. Riley set her shoulders and closed her eyes briefly before she reached out and touched the chart on top of the stack waiting to be put away. Her veins pulsed. Throbbed. There it was, the tiniest of threads, but she could track it now that she had it. It was so faint, barely there, but her blood knew him. He couldn’t hide from her.

  Elation swept through her. “I’ve got him, Dax. I can find him now. Or at least the one who can lead you to him.”

  Dax and Riordan joined her immediately. Dax put his arm around her and swept her close. He leaned down to brush a comforting kiss on her forehead. “I knew you’d find him.”

  “The touch is feminine to me,” Riley corrected. “I have no idea who it is, though, but I think I can follow the trail.”

  Even with Dax standing close, she felt the throbbing in her veins, a drumbeat that lingered in the touch of the clerk. Riley turned and walked past the doctor’s office to the back door. “She goes this way to leave.”

  “Let’s go find her,” Riordan said. “I’d like to know where she lives.”

  “If Riley has correctly identified this clerk as the puppet, you have to know that means Mitro is directing her in every one of her actions,” Dax pointed out. “She’ll be as dangerous as any one of his ghouls.” He stated the caution aloud, wanting Riley to understand they weren’t dealing with a person anymore. Whoever she had been was long gone. She belonged to Mitro now.

  “Keep in mind always,” Riordan added, “that this person is responsible for the deaths of at least six babies and their mothers.”

  Riley moistened her lips. She knew what they were doing—preparing her should they find the woman and have to destroy her. They didn’t want her to feel guilty. She’d seen what Mitro had turned villagers into—she really didn’t need the warning—but she appreciated it all the same. She knew both men were looking out for her, and that was a comfort.

  Dax and Riordan dropped back to allow her to take the lead. Dax scanned outside the clinic and deeming it safe, waved his hand to open the back door. Riley found the spot where the woman kept her small scooter. It was s
till early enough that there were people on the street. Dax caught Riley’s shoulder to halt her, taking another long look around.

  “You catch anything?” he asked Riordan.

  Riordan shook his head. “I don’t feel any danger. I think she’s safe, and we’ll both protect her. I’ll keep everyone from seeing us. Let her track the undead’s puppet.”

  “Are you up for this?” Dax asked. “You don’t have to.”

  “I do,” she corrected. “We’re going to stop him and this is the first step.”

  Dax took to the air, holding Riley in front of him, Riordan flanking them, ensuring they were shielded from the evening crowd.

  “To the right. Stay to the right.” Riley couldn’t be caught up in the beauty of the night, or flying. Holding on to that weak link between her blood and that almost nonexistent trace of Mitro was difficult and took every ounce of concentration and discipline she’d developed over the years.

  The scooter had turned off the street to follow a narrow alley, through a parking garage and then down through another series of alleys, two so narrow they were more like footpaths between buildings. The buildings seemed old and worn, paint peeling, windows broken. Garbage cluttered the ground and the elderly, mentally ill and addicts shuffled along the alleys or lay under cardboard tents. Prostitutes trolled the corners of every block, some sporting black eyes and most looking hopeless. This part of the city was scarred and ugly, a hidden underbelly beneath the dazzling lights.

  There was a short stop at a small store. And then the faint trail was back, the clerk making her way through a maze of back alleys until she came to what looked like an abandoned factory. The high chain-link fence was damaged in multiple areas and the scooter slipped through one of the many tears. The fence was held back with large barrels, just enough for a person or a small vehicle such as a scooter to slip through.