Dark Storm

by Christine Feehan

  For a moment her stomach lurched and she nearly pulled her hands from the soil. This job was impossible. The ground had been turned into a bed of evil. The heartbeat of the earth had been silenced, as if Mitro had managed to reach into the very core and destroy that as well.

  I’m right here with you, Dax whispered into her mind. You can do this. Think of it as a cemetery and these people need to be properly laid to rest.

  I am with you, the Old One added. Their souls cry out for aid.

  My beloved child, Annabel murmured softly. They are caught between. Only you can bring them peace.

  The voices of the women who had gone before her added their assurances.

  Strength poured into her. It wasn’t an impossible task to heal the earth. She was born for that purpose. She couldn’t allow those Mitro had killed in such a barbaric way to never find rest because of the oily, slimy, disgusting ooze he’d created there in the soil.

  Riley had to destroy the malevolent taproots, mutated and rotting with evil. She reached downward, toward the very core of the earth. I call on the power of the molten light, lend me your might for that which needs to be done, I draw forth your energy to wield and destroy that which is evil and is used as a ploy.

  Riley stretched her hand downward toward the oldest taproot, channeling the molten light she had drawn from the heart of the earth, using it as she would a laser to cut into the root. Mother Earth I call to you. I seek a gift deep from within your womb. Gift me a stone that I may use it to destroy that which is evil while also releasing these souls, sending them back into a place of peaceful rest.

  Riley sank her free hand deep within the rotting, soil bringing forth a jade-green stone that the earth had harvested for her to use in her fight. Chrysoprase, green in color, cool and smooth, a strong stone used to make conscious what is unconscious while lending Riley its vibrational qualities to tranquilize the evil that was fighting her to live. Riley infused the energy of the light deep into the chrysoprase, channeling it into each taproot. I combine thee light and jade-green stone destroy these roots that hold to bone, release these spirits so they may rest, give them peace and clear that which is left.

  Riley’s hands began to weave a pattern using the remaining healthy roots one knot at a time. A pattern began to emerge. The pattern had to be tight, unable to be penetrated or broken. Hands that hold divine light twist these vines hold them tight. Riley worked the vines into an intricate series of woven knots and then sank them deep down into the soil. Mother Earth hold this tight. I weave these vines to sustain your might. I gift you back what you have born to hold your shape, to sustain your form. Mother who bore us, mother of might, I weave this gift to sustain your life.

  The roots responded to her commands, shooting out hundreds, no thousands of long, thin, very strong secondary roots. From those secondary roots a third and fourth system burst forth. The individual strands began to twist into braids, over and over, spreading through the ground until the mat was a foot thick, two feet thick and building fast, growing in depth, always growing. Fed by the rich loam, driven by Riley’s command, the roots kept spreading, weaving themselves together, an impenetrable jungle of fibrous growth just below the surface and going down hundreds of feet.

  Exhausted, Riley swayed. She was dizzy, disoriented and she still had to do the same thing to the walls of the room. She felt Dax’s arms, so strong, offering her shelter. His skin was so hot, burning against her cheek. She turned her head and nuzzled the heat and fire and defined muscles that were so synonymous with him. His fingers massaging her scalp and neck eased some of the tension.

  Take what I offer, sivamet. His voice was pure temptation.

  She had been unable to eat anything. The most she’d done was drink water. There was that small part of her that was still human enough to hesitate, but she was so far into his world, it didn’t take more than his hand bunching in her hair, turning her mouth to his chest, to those beading drops he’d supplied with one stroke of his fingernail across his muscle.

  Every cell in her body reached for sustenance. Craved Dax. Needed him. Burned for him. Dax poured into her, all heat and fire. Power and strength. He filled her. Sustained her.

  Riley used her own tongue to try to seal that thin line, unwilling for Mitro to catch the scent of powerful Carpathian blood. Thank you. That helps.

  He helped. The way he held her. The way he believed in her enough to let her try to heal the earth when everything male in him insisted he protect her no matter the cost. She was in his mind, she knew how difficult it was for him to allow her to be in such danger.

  Riley plunged her hands into the soil once more. She could feel the heart beating in the soil again where before there was a deathly silence, like a withered organ a vampire might have. Now, the soil teemed with life. Insects burrowed deep. The roots were quiet now, settled, hundreds of feet deep, woven so tightly together nothing could possibly slip through a crack, not even mist.

  She turned her attention to the vines surrounding the wall. This would be much trickier. The first weave had to be subtle, so subtle that it would not draw the attention of Pietra, but would still set in motion the building of thick impenetrable walls around the room the moment Mitro stepped in.

  Dax dropped his head on her shoulder. Her heart jumped. Deep in her veins, that terrible throb beat harder. The temperature in the room dropped so that every breath released was a steady stream of white. The leaves on the vines recoiled. Rats climbed along the few supporting beams overhead.

  In the midst of so many hearts pounding came the sound of another, stronger, the rhythm different. The beat boomed loud and then softened, only to swell in volume again. The drumming beat pounded at Dax, beat at Riley. Their hearts jumped, almost in recognition. The throb deep in Riley’s veins pulsed rapidly.

  A hush of anticipation swept through the room. Tension mounted. The crowd swayed back and forth, a mass hysteria, worshipping, eyes opaque. Pietra climbed up on the dais, her face glowing. She looked out over the crowd, arms wide, presenting her offering to her master.

  Dax and Riordan closed ranks in front of Riley, making certain there was a group of worshippers in front of them. The music changed, the notes a heralding of evil. Lights flashed on and off, a strobe adding to the hypnotic effect Mitro had on his followers. Mist moved through the crowd, a dense stream of foul air, weaving through the swaying group.

  Gasps. Faint cries. The scent of blood rose in the air. Red droplets splattered into the crowd. As the mist trailed through, a hand with long, sharp talons emerged from the vapor and sliced into flesh. Breasts. Chests. Necks. Throats. Most were shallow cuts, but a few unlucky ones had deep cuts. One had arterial spray but didn’t seem to notice as he leapt up and down and spun with the others in a frenzy of worship.

  Each time the hand materialized from that cold gray cloud, Mitro’s congregation went wild. The mist continued its slow procession through the crowd until it was at the dais. The vapor stacked dramatically in the shape of a man, but when it wavered, and went transparent, there were rats piled upon one another forming that man. As they dropped away, unable to hold position, Mitro emerged.

  Hands outstretched, wearing a black, hooded robe lined in crimson, he opened his arms to the worshippers. Their yells shook the building. Hands caught at the man with the torn throat, shoving him forward, many dipping their hands in the blood and painting themselves with it. The boy stumbled to the platform, gazing up at Mitro in awe and terror. He made no attempt to cover his torn flesh.

  Mitro pointed to the floor of the dais. The boy crawled up onto it. He scuttled across the floor on all fours, groveling, reaching Mitro and wrapping his arms around the vampire’s leg. Horrible gurgling sounds came from his torn throat as he begged and exposed the wound to the undead.

  The crowd went wild. “Eat! Eat! Eat!” The chant swelled in volume.

&nbs
p; Mitro reached down and caught his victim by his hair, dragging him to his feet. The boy had blood running down his neck, into his shirt and dripping on the floor now. Mitro jerked his head back hard, exposing the deep wound.

  A cheer went up and the chant grew louder. “Eat! Eat! Eat!”

  Mitro opened his mouth wide, exposing his fangs, those blackened, sharp points, pausing for dramatic effect, waiting for his followers to roar again before he sank his teeth deep into the wound.

  Mitro would be consumed with the blood thrall, gulping and tearing messily, showing off, feeding on the terror of his victim as the boy became aware he would not be vampire, but was truly fodder for a predator.

  Now, Dax ordered.

  All three acted simultaneously. Dax rose to the ceiling, positioning himself above Mitro, his scales sliding up and over his body for protection while the red-gold scale dust rained down on the vampire. The dust settled over the vampire like a sticky silken net, holding him in, acting like a glue, so there would be no chance of shapeshifting.

  Riley plunged her hands into the soil and gave her command to the vines. The vines instantly complied, weaving tight braids back and forth, up and down, floor to ceiling, closing off every entrance and every inch of dirt that could possibly be used to slip through.

  Riordan slammed a bolt over the heads of the crowd, forcing them all to the floor, where they lay dazed, unable to move. He had to trust Dax to kill the undead while he controlled the puppets.

  Pietra fell half on, half off the dais, upside down, arms outstretched toward Mitro. The vampire flung the dying boy from him. The body hit the wall of vines and fell to the floor. Mitro drew back his thin lips to snarl a challenge. Fresh blood smeared his chin and dripped from his fangs. His head slowly swiveled from side to side, a cold reptilian motion that made Riley shudder.

  Mitro opened his arms. “Welcome, Danutdaxton. Meet my chosen ones. They are always hungry. Rise! Rise, my army, it is your time. Feast on these intruders. Their blood will bring you into my world. You will be powerful and immortal. Eat! Feast! Rise now!”

  He’s given them his blood. He truly has created an army, Dax warned.

  A collective growl rose as the followers of the undead struggled to rise at his command. With Mitro’s blood burning and scarring, prodding so many on, Riordan dropped back to protect Riley. Several of the strongest managed to get to their feet and stumble toward him, eyes burning with the need to kill.

  Riley fought down panic, plunging her hands into the soil in order to communicate with the vines. She might not be a warrior, capable of helping Riordan with the rabid followers of a vile vampire, but she could at least enlist the plants to help where they could. The vines snaked out along the floor, reaching for the ankles and legs of those struggling to reach Riordan.

  In the ensuing chaos, Mitro tried to shift, just as Dax had known he would. The sticky scale dust clung to his cells, refusing to allow him to change to another form. In a fit of rage, he kicked Pietra off the dais and then rocketed into the walls and hit the woven vines so thick they were impossible to penetrate.

  He whirled around just as Dax dropped on him from above, his heavy body driving him to the ground. Mitro stabbed at the hunter’s eyes, even as he rolled, burrowing into the ground to get away. That escape was closed to him as well, the roots too thick to allow passage. Rolling over and over into the crowd, he slashed and tore at Dax, trying desperately to get through the scales to the flesh and blood.

  He opened his mouth and expelled a noxious gas cloud along with death beetles, directly into Dax’s face. Dax countered with a blast of fire, incinerating the bugs and lighting the gas cloud. The explosion rocked the ground and building above. The walls expanded and contracted trying to contain the blast. Mitro shrieked in rage and pain as a wall of fire raced over him, blanketing both Dax and the vampire as well as the human puppets closest to them.

  Pietra, her clothes on fire, scuttled across the floor like a crab, shrieking, raising a ceremonial knife high and stabbing down repeatedly at Dax’s exposed back as he straddled Mitro. Flames rose around all three. Pietra’s arm rose and fell one last time and then she crumpled to the floor, rolling, spreading the flames everywhere. The dark sliver of Mitro burst from her body, seeking another host. It shot across the distance back to Mitro, sealing itself to him, adding to his strength.

  Dax shut out the sounds of Riordan’s battle, his fear for Riley and the smell of burning flesh. He barely felt the flames. He was a fire dragon. He barely felt Mitro tearing at him. He was a Carpathian hunter with one purpose. To destroy evil. He listened to the strange rhythm of the offbeat heart. Mitro had created the heart for the water dragon. The fire dragon’s remains had been smashed open.

  Call to your heart. Dax was certain he was correct.

  The Old One’s heart had been left behind in the volcano. Even as he instructed the dragon, he realized, he and the dragon had slowly merged. He used his own heart, just as with the water dragon, strengthening the beat, drawing the other to him.

  Mitro shrieked his fury and clawed and spit acid, trying to stop Dax’s diamond-hard nails from slicing through his chest. This time, Dax followed the sound, low and to the left. Mitro grew frantic. He sliced at Dax’s throat, and tried gulping the ancient blood. Dax concentrated on burrowing deeper into the rotten carcass. Around him Riordan battled the undead’s army, keeping them off of the hunter. Around him the flames leapt higher, but Dax was of a single-minded purpose.

  His fist closed around the hard gem. He dragged it from the body, opened his hand flat and thrust it into the flames to bathe it in fire. Mitro sprang toward the heart, his hand outstretched. Dax opened his own chest and thrust the brilliant gem inside. The moment his body swallowed the dragon’s heart, he closed the wound and watched Mitro.

  The vampire’s mouth stretched wide in protest. No sound emerged. Insects poured out, maggots fell around him, the flames instantly incinerating them. Mitro shook his head, unable to believe he’d been defeated. He turned his head toward Riley, hatred in his eyes. He lifted his hand, bent on revenge. The fire engulfed him entirely. Without the fire dragon’s heart, with no heart of his own, his body rotted, going up in flames.

  Dax stepped back away from the noxious-smelling remains. Riordan caught up Riley and they took to the air, rising toward the ceiling as the flames spread throughout the room. Riley coughed and choked, reaching for Dax. He was covered in blood, but she didn’t care, wrapping her arms around him, grateful he was alive. He looked tired, the lines in his face etched deep. Beneath them, Mitro’s worshippers had succumbed to smoke and flame without their master’s blood to sustain them.

  Dax and Riordan exited through the ceiling, leaving nothing but ashes behind. “Mitro had been searching for centuries in volcanos,” Dax told Riordan and Riley. “Somewhere he must have acquired the knowledge that when dragons die, their hearts remain behind and become petrified. They turn to gemstones. The heart kept him alive until I restored it to its rightful owner.”

  “I want to go home,” Riley said. “Take me home, Dax.”

  20

  Dax set Riley down on the mountain that had been home to him for the last few centuries. The Old One had been born here, as had his children. They had all died here. Riley had been born here. Her mother had died here. The heat fed him, the earth called to him. This volcano was as close to home as he had to give her.

  The ruins of the Cloud People stood valiantly, undeterred by the volcano or the passage of time, the stone guardians staring out over the edge of the cliffs, daring anyone to come close. He was surprised that he was the one tense, even trembling a little inside. Riley was as steady as a rock, absolutely resolute, while he was wavering, afraid if something went wrong, he would lose her.

  He slipped his arm around her waist as they looked up into what remained of the cloudy forest. “It truly is b
eautiful here.”

  “Isn’t it?” Riley smiled up at him. “When I was a little girl and my mother would bring me here, I’d pretend I was climbing up a ladder of stars and when we reached the clouds, I would be in heaven.”

  Dax wrapped a length of her thick braid around his fist and brought her hair to his face. He would never tire of the feel of all that blue-black silk. “Nothing can happen to you.”

  She looked up at him from under her feathery lashes, her generous mouth curving into a smile of pure love. His heart actually hurt in his chest. Sometimes, like right at that moment, when she was so certain of her love for him, he couldn’t find words to express the way he felt about her. There were no words adequate enough for the truth.

  He knew she had changed everything for him. She had something about her he couldn’t resist. She moved inside of him, wrapped herself deep, and there was no way he could get her out even if he wanted her gone. There was no hiding from her. No running from her. She turned him inside out with just one look from under those long, feminine lashes. She lit up his world with her smile, with her soft, contagious laughter. Her smile took away every bad moment in his life, replacing them with—her.

  He was a warrior from centuries past, from a species on the brink of extinction. A predator who survived on the blood of others. There was a wildness in him, and she saw that clearly. She looked into him and saw everything he was, every part of him, and still she stood with him. Calm. Serene. Standing side by side in the face of utter evil, no matter how afraid she was. Her courage was terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.

  He turned her to him and she came to him without hesitation, circling his neck with her slender arms, leaning her soft body into his. Her eyes and soft skin held the coolness of the earth. He was flames and heat, the very core of the earth. The moment he touched her she caught fire.