Dark Demon 16

by Christine Feehan

  He was aware of his blood moving through his body, carrying his shame. «I do not know that Razvan willingly chose to embrace evil, Natalya.»

  «I don't understand what you mean. He has to be vampire. Or at least in league with the vampires. How could that not be choosing to embrace evil?»

  He heard his heart thundering in his ears, trying to drown out the sound of his voice confessing. Voicing aloud what he didn't want known. What he didn't admit to himself. He rubbed his face against hers, his fingers tangling in her wet hair.

  Natalya held her breath, sensing how vulnerable Vikirnoff was at that moment, sensing the cost to his pride. «Tell me.»

  «Before I met you. Long before I met you, I hunted the vampire everywhere I went. I was good at it, Natalya, because life no longer mattered to me. Not my life and not that of any other. I realized I was becoming the very thing I hunted so I sought my brother, hoping his close proximity would alleviate the growing darkness.»

  Natalya pressed closer, circling his neck with her arms, wanting to give him strength as he'd done for her. «Go on, Vikirnoff.» She felt his reluctance and knew he was giving her something of himself, something that cost him dearly.

  Vikirnoff drew in a tortured breath. «It helped for a few years and then the emptiness was a weight pressing heavier than ever. I backed off making the kills, allowing Nicolae to destroy the vampires after we found them. I even spent most of my time in another form.»

  «All good things to keep yourself going.» She caught glimpses of a stark, bleak existence in his mind, but it was nearly impossible to understand without merging with him and he was holding himself away from her.

  Vikirnoff closed his eyes. «You are not understanding what I am saying to you, Natalya. I am an ancient Carpathian. I am well-schooled in what happens to our males should they continue to live and hunt and destroy. There is a point of no return. A place in one's mind where a choice must be made.»

  Natalya frowned and pulled back to look at the lines etched into his face. «What choice?»

  «Every moment of our existence, we are acutely aware of the gathering darkness. We know if we do not find our lifemate there is a time we must make a decision to protect our people and the populations of the world. Once that time is upon us, we cannot allow it to pass us by. If we do not choose to meet the dawn with honor, then we endanger our souls by becoming vampire.»

  Natalya reached up to frame his face. «But who can ever make such a choice?»

  «It is our legacy, Natalya. We are given the ritual binding words to preserve our species, our lives. It is our only true safeguard. Without the light to our darkness we succumb inevitably to evil if we do not seek the dawn.» His gaze shifted from her face, jumped back to meet her green eyes. «I was far, far past the point of no return. I knew the exact day of my choosing. I remember it vividly, but I did not do what was necessary to ensure the survival of the rest of my race. I chose life. I clung to life when I should have chosen the dawn.»

  She shook her head, her fingers stroking the strong bones of his face. «That's not true. You said we are lifemates. Doesn't that mean you were meant to survive?»

  He shook his head. «I was too close. You sensed it in the forest long before you ever saw me. You could not tell if I was hunter or vampire. I could not tell either.» He refused to flinch away from the raw truth. «I do not know if a second moment of choice ever comes after that first. I cannot tell you if Razvan even knew there was a time of choice. It had been so long since I had actually experienced emotions, experienced anything, my mind began to wander into places I know it should not have gone, but I was unable to stop it.»

  Natalya took a deep breath, her fingers tangling in his hair. There were so many emotions in him, running deep, carving out deep wounds of humiliation. It cost him his pride as a Carpathian hunter, as a male of his species to tell her his darkest secret, to admit the shame of his choice knowing what would inevitably happen, and the worse shame of not being able to stop himself moving inexorably toward ultimate evil.

  «Razvan did not have my training. He did not have the knowledge of what could happen drilled into him for centuries. Does this make him weak? Is it a betrayal of all we love, or is the choice taken from us, lost in the haze created in our minds when everything runs together and there are no longer clear lines of definition, just awful, meaningless existence?»

  She felt dazed, humbled even, looking into his dark eyes. There was pain there, the pain

  of centuries of emptiness. There was fear that she would reject him.

  «How could you think that I could reject you? Why would I? Not for baring your soul and confessing to me because you wanted me to know Razvan didn't deliberately betray me.» She pressed kisses along his jaw, trailed several to the corner of his mouth. Her tongue flicked enticingly along the seam of his lips.

  «Razvan might not have meant to betray you, it may have just happened. But, Natalya, mine was a true betrayal. As your lifemate, I should have put your protection above all else and I should have chosen the dawn when that moment came to make my choice.»

  She kissed his mouth, soft pressing kisses over and over until he opened his mouth to her. She drowned in his taste. In his stark honesty. In the sacrifice of his pride for her. She wanted to cry for both of them. «There was no betrayal, Vikirnoff,» she said softly, «only life. Just life. And it can be hard and cruel and terrifying. But it can also be exhilarating and beautiful and filled with passion for all things if you want it. We want it. Both of us. We are not willing to let it pass by. I would have clung to life as you did. As Razvan did. I don't know if he can be saved or not, but at least I feel as if he didn't choose to betray me. Thank you for that.»

  Vikirnoff crushed her to him, his breath exploding out of his lungs in relief. He pushed the tawny hair from her eyes, framed her face so he could drink her in, devour her. Heady relief mixed with sharp joy. Natalya's beauty ran far more than skin deep. He kissed her, a slow sizzling kiss of happiness that her heart was so open to him.

  She melted into him, one leg sliding around his thigh so she pressed closer, rubbing her wet, slick body against his in invitation.

  Vikirnoff lifted her easily, urging her to wrap both legs around his waist, leaving her open to him, allowing him to position her over the head of his erection. The welcoming folds of her channel were hot velvet and exquisitely tight, holding him like a fist as he buried his body deep into hers. It was a miracle to him, the way her body accepted his, stroked and gripped and milked his. Her skin was hot and soft and rubbed against his with every movement.

  Her face was beautiful in the shadows from the flickering candlelight, which played over her soft curves. She leaned back, her hands clasped around his neck and began a long, slow ride of ecstasy, the pleasure on her face heightening her beauty. He let her take the lead, bringing him to the point of climax several times only to stop and tease his pulse with her tongue and teeth. Waiting. Building. He felt the powerful orgasm gathering and gathering, a force that finally took control from both of them. It rushed over him, over her, taking them with it as it thundered through their bodies and souls.

  He heard his own hoarse shout, her soft cry, felt the convulsion of her strong muscles surrounding him and the blood-red tears on his face.

  Chapter 16

  Natalya sank back onto her heels as she knelt staring at the jewel-embedded ceremonial knife. It lay on a small piece of cloth between them. The blade was slightly curved and the handle ornate. Instead of looking deadly, the knife seemed an object of priceless art.

  «The knife looks so harmless, doesn't it?» Natalya asked. «And yet looks can be deceptive. It's been used countless times to murder.» Her hand hovered over the blade and trembled. Natalya pulled back.

  The sun had set and both she and Vikirnoff had bathed in the hot spring water after making love. It had been difficult for her to avoid taking his blood. She craved it more than ever, as if he were a drug she was addicted to and now, with the knowledge that Raz
van was still alive, the idea of becoming a Carpathian held both comfort and promise. They were both dressed in the clothes Vikirnoff had fashioned for them. Now, there was only one last task that stood in her way; touching this knife, accessing the violent memories that clung to the ceremonial weapon.

  «I have fed and I am here as your anchor to hold you to this world and this time.» He stroked a long caress over her hair. «The safeguards are in place and my duty to Gabrielle has been done. Falcon has given her the second blood exchange and we have all answered the call to heal her. This is our time, Natalya. Find out what memories the knife holds and hopefully we will have a clue to where the book is hidden. Once we retrieve it we can take the book to a safe place where it can be destroyed or guarded adequately.»

  Natalya took a deep breath and let it out. «Reading the knife will not be easy, Vikirnoff. We will live the memories of those that died on its blade.»

  His hand slid up her arm to her shoulder, fingers massaging gently. «I know this is difficult for you. If I could, I would do it for you.»

  She sat there with the candles flickering all around her and the knife in front of her. The sound of the water lapping at the edges of the pool soothed her and Vikirnoff's presence made her feel protected. She had «read» objects hundreds of times, yet she was reluctant to relive the death of her grandmother and worse, the murder of her father, even with Vikirnoff there to aid her. «You believe I can do this.»

  «I know that you can.»

  «Before I do, I want you to know I'm not mad at you anymore.»

  His eyebrow shot up. «Were you angry with me?»

  She scowled at him. «Yes, I was angry with you. Sheesh! You didn't even notice?»

  «We made love a dozen times, more even. You bit me a few times and there are scratches on my back, but I enjoyed you putting the marks there.»

  «That's because you're a pervert. And I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about your ridiculous and totally arbitrary decision to bind us together.»

  «Natalya?»

  «What?»

  «You sound angry.»

  «Well, of course I'm angry. You didn't even notice that I was angry in the first place. Do you realize how upsetting that is? All this time I thought you were suffering because I was mad at you, but you didn't even notice.»

  «I am sorry. I should have been more observant.»

  «You don't sound sorry.» She ran her fingertips around the knife and held her palm above the blade testing the strength of the vibrations of violence. «In all honesty, Vikirnoff, I really don't want to do this.»

  «I know. And I understand. No one wants to relive the torture and murder of their parents or grandmother.»

  Vikirnoff knelt behind her, knowing she was working up her courage, chattering to cover her hesitation. «I will take the journey with you. When memories become too much to bear, I will do what I can to lessen the pain.»

  «What if you're trapped there with me and we can't pull out until every kill has been reenacted? It was your strength that allowed me to get away from the past.»

  His arms enfolded her, his hands sliding down her arms to envelop her hands in his. «You feel the violence of the knife's past without touching.»

  Natalya leaned against his chest, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. «Yes, but I'm not reading the memories.»

  «I want to hold the knife in my hand with your hands around mine, so that your fingers brush the knife, but limiting your physical contact with it. Perhaps that will minimize the risk to you.»

  Natalya took a breath and let it out, trying to still her chaotic mind. She'd rather battle ten vampires than read what the knife offered, but all the wishing in the world wasn't going to change what had to be done. «Let's try it, then, Vikirnoff, but if you feel that you can't get

  us out, drop the knife.»

  «I will.»

  His breath was warm and comforting on the back of her head as she bent forward again, allowing her to feel his presence without distracting her. She laid her hand over his and nodded to let him know she was ready.

  Vikirnoff reached for the knife. She felt her own heart beating, strong and steady, beginning to accelerate. Her muscles began to knot painfully.

  I am with you.

  She felt him, strong and solid behind her, his arms around her, there for her. With her– and that meant everything. She drew courage from his presence and her fingers brushed the handle of the knife. Instantly she felt the curving of time, the wrenching pull that dragged her into the past and deeper into the violent memories the knife contained.

  The concentrated fear of so many victims rushed toward her, surrounded her and invaded her mind and soul. Immediately she focused on the feel of Vikirnoff's hand, the shape and size of it, the warmth of his skin. The mounting terror lessened enough for her to slide past, reaching for the reenactment she needed. There seemed to be so many souls wailing with grief and crying for justice. She knew whatever the knife needed to show her had to have occurred farther in the past before her father's death. He had to have hidden the book and spilled blood on the knife.

  My father wouldn't have sacrificed someone to leave behind the information. The reenactment would be much fainter than the ones with more violence. That would explain how I missed it the first time.

  Slow down. You are moving so fast I cannot catch even glimpses of what has occurred.

  I feel the level of violence and know it is not what I want and I don't want to know what else Xavier has done or whom he killed… Her voice trailed off and she halted abruptly to find herself in the crystal cave. She looked around her carefully.

  What is it?

  Razvan. I feel him. His presence is strong in this time period.

  Vikirnoff inhaled sharply, wanting to tighten his arms protectively around Natalya and order her out of there. How long ago was this?

  I can't tell. Recently, I think. I haven't felt the presence of my father yet.

  Vikirnoff's instincts shrieked at him. This is unnecessary. You do not need to witness any violence Razvan commits. Keep moving, Natalya.

  She wanted to see her brother. She wanted to witness with her own eyes his betrayal. It seemed the only way to make herself believe that he had gone over to the side of the vampires, to Xavier, was to see the extent of his betrayal. Stubbornly she watched as her brother sauntered into the ice chamber. He carried the ceremonial knife in his hand and his eyes were glittering with some fierce emotion.

  You cannot. Vikirnoff inserted a mild push into his voice, not wanting to take command of her, but the taste in his mouth was bitter with warning. Razvan looked far too much like Xavier in his youth; a madman bent on accumulating power over others. Xavier had grown in power and stature very quickly with his natural talent and he became convinced that he was destined to rule the world. The corruption of a once-great sorcerer was complete when he discovered the rush of power the taking of life gave him. Furious that the Carpathian race seemed to be immortal, something he was not, he grew to despise them with a fanatical hatred that fed his own ego and determination to stamp them out once he had gained the secrets of their blood. Razvan wore that same, smug, contempt-filled expression.

  The ice chamber was the same, yet not the same. Fewer orbs lit the cavern and the ice formations were less abundant. On the far wall, the dragons were frozen in time, encased behind layers of ice.

  They weren't there before. Natalya read his mind. They are now in the hall leading to the main chamber, remember? Something terrible will happen here.

  Vikirnoff felt Natalya's heart pounding through her body, in her veins, threatening to burst, as Razvan turned and beckoned someone toward him. A young girl emerged from the shadows, a child really, forced forward by compulsion. The girl had bright green eyes and a wealth of copper curls. She shook her head as Razvan caught her arm, jerking her closer to him.

  Don't! Natalya tried to pry her fingers from the knife, but something much stronger than her will held her there, mesmerized. He
wants her blood. He's taking her blood. She winced as the ceremonial knife slashed across the little wrist and Razvan pressed the open vein to his mouth. He's seeking immortality just the way Xavier did. That poor child.

  Vikirnoff felt sick, wanting to close his eyes against the abomination that Razvan had become. The child looked very much like Natalya must have looked as a child, yet Razvan had no feeling for her. Her use to him was that of a blood bank. He wanted to stay young. He had children for the sole purpose of finding the ones with the necessary gene to carry the bloodline he needed.