Dark Song

by Feehan, Christine

  Elisabeta, take down his safeguards above. We will need the lightning. Strengthen the ones we wove in the ground so the slivers cannot burrow.

  The ground is both hallowed and safeguarded, Ferro, Elisabeta assured. I am removing the safeguards above you now.

  The grasses disappeared as if they’d never been to reveal the wide expanse of bare dirt, all of which had been sanctified. Ringing the entire prepared circle were the ancients, waiting, all eyes on the writhing, fighting master vampire as Ferro held him down with the sacrosanct wooden stake. He had to use both hands. Black blood bubbled up around the wood. Benedek held the legs of the vampire as Sergey kicked and drummed his heels into the dirt.

  The master vampire spit his hatred at Ferro. His red inflamed eyes promised retaliation, flames burning in their depths. At times they glowed silver or brown or green, malevolent, promising torturous, painful death. He tried to dig claws into Ferro, to tear skin off his ribs and arms, anything to get him to remove the stake.

  Minutes passed while they waited. The ancients wore the expressionless, stoic masks of the hunters. They didn’t pass judgment on the creatures they were forced to hunt and destroy. They rid the world of their presence because they had no other choice. They waited now in silence, all eyes on the writhing master vampire.

  Maggots and parasites oozed from his pores, abandoning the undead’s body. More and more he appeared a rotting, decomposed corpse. The moment the parasites or maggots hit the soil, they burned into white ash so that soon, the vampire’s shape was drawn with a pile of ash much like a chalk outline surrounding him.

  Each of Sergey’s four older brothers had placed a sliver of themselves in their younger brother. He also had two slivers of Xavier, the high mage. Those slivers would abandon him when it became apparent their host was not going to survive. The ancients simply waited while Sergey hissed and screamed his hatred. While the hallowed ground under his body burned and seared his back and skull. While the sanctified stake spread purity through his insides, forcing out every corruption.

  Without warning, six tiny shadows emerged from Sergey’s ears, rushing in all directions, each seeking the safety of the darkness and the higher grass several yards away. The slivers were so tiny they were nearly impossible to see, even with Carpathian vision, but for the plume of smoke rising from each as the hallowed soil burned them, marking each abomination as it made its desperate run.

  Lightning forked across the sky in a dazzling display, seven whips arcing above their heads. Six jagged spears slammed to earth with deadly accuracy, each striking one of the fleeing slivers. Hideous shrieks tore through the night, a frightful cacophony that rose in strength. Faceless skulls with wide yawning empty holes for mouths appeared in sheets of rising black smoke. Venomous silver eyes glared for a brief moment and then flames consumed them, burning them to ash.

  Ferro jerked the stake free in one swift movement and the remaining white-hot lightning whip hit Sergey’s heart with deadly accuracy. The master vampire stared up at him with unrelenting hatred until there was nothing but the rotted corpse left, and then that, too, was gone. The ancients stood for a brief moment, heads bowed, before they cleared the land of all traces of the vampires and made their way back to the compound, just beating dawn.

  21

  What once was a blaze, grows stronger than before;

  A metal in the forge, turns a sword for the war.

  A life of hope sings to you, melodies of devotion;

  A world of love awaits, vaster than the ocean.

  Ferro woke Elisabeta gently, singing their song to her, one of deep love and commitment, of devotion and hope. She was truly free, his little songbird. No longer in her cage, free to choose her life, and she had made it abundantly clear that her choice was Ferro. He found that humbling. A miracle. He knew he would never take her for granted.

  They’d gone to ground together, wrapped in each other’s arms, his body protectively curled around hers. He was grateful for the freedom to be able to do so without frightening her. He never wanted her to think he was caging her in, but he found he needed to be close to her. Skin to skin. Touching her even in their slumber.

  Before, he had slept above her to protect her, to give her a sense of safety, but now she welcomed him in the ground with her, his body in the same resting place. He woke before her to hunt for blood for them both, but then he had the privilege of waking her with their song. He was able to feel that first awareness in her mind, the joy in her when she recognized the notes of their music together. Her long lashes lifting so her eyes met his. The moment that happened, his heart clenched and his stomach did a slow roll of acknowledgment.

  Ferro opened his arms to her and Elisabeta floated from the earth, clean and refreshed, all on her own. He closed his arms, cradling her to him, rubbed his jaw along the curve of her breast, her pulse calling to him as he took her to their favorite place deep in their forest. Neither would ever be entirely comfortable in a house. He supposed someday, when they had children, they would have to be used to a roof over their heads, but they preferred the canopy of trees.

  Elisabeta slid her arms around his neck, offering herself to him. “I love the way you smell, Ferro. Wild and elusive like the forest itself. I would know you anywhere.”

  He would know her by scent alone as well. She came into his mind slowly, drifting in like a soothing breeze, her fragrance so subtle but distinct, rare camellias, Italian bergamot, that hint of orange and lime, sandalwood and vetiver, the mixture almost elusive and yet lingering. Her skin held that same faint scent. Even her taste had hints of those flavors.

  “When you would merge with others to rid them of the infection and I would be with you in their minds, I could feel you cleanse them with that soothing serenity, that peace and compassion that is so much a part of you, but also there was always your fragrance. Your scent clings to your skin. It is in your mind, Elisabeta, so deep in you that when you are in my mind or in another’s I can catch your scent. I think that is a good part of the way you soothe the ancients.”

  He rubbed his chin over the top of her head, not wanting her to look into his eyes and see that he might not like sharing that part of her with anyone. In ancient times, many Carpathians didn’t allow others near their lifemates because it could be dangerous if those warriors turned vampire. He understood that concept. He would have been one of those men. Now, he wanted to carry her off somewhere they would be alone without interruption from all the demands the Carpathian world seemed to put on them.

  “I prefer always to be with just you, Ferro,” she admitted.

  The notes of truth in her voice slipped into his mind and lodged there, reassuring him. When she had first awoken, he had worked to be her light in the darkness; now she was his bright star. He tipped her face up to his and kissed her. The moment he did, he tasted passion. Love. A mixture of both.

  The burn came slow, easy, a decadent lazy heat that swept through his veins, sped through hers, picking up speed as kisses grew passionate and hotter. Until the fire became a storm of emotion.

  Ferro took his time worshipping her. Showing her how much she meant to him. Elisabeta was meticulous in answering him back, her hands and mouth moving over his body with equal loving. Whispers and laughter, the sound of bodies coming together and soft cries of passion rose long into the night.

  With Elisabeta snuggled in his arms, looking up at the stars through the gently swaying canopy of trees, Ferro reminded her that there was a big celebration going on and it was expected that they make an appearance. It didn’t have to be a long one, but they should go.

  “You have gotten so good at flying and clothing yourself, I thought you could fly to the compound from here and dress yourself in that beautiful green gown you know I love. I put it in your mind a couple of times.” Deliberately, he enticed her with flying. She was feeling very sated and loving, her hands sliding over his chest and hip very possessively.

  “The scandalous one?” She tilted her head to look up at
him, a hint of laughter in her dark eyes.

  He couldn’t help his answering grin. The dress could be scandalous if they were alone. Only if they were alone and his fingers were busy on the corset, pulling the laces free so her breasts spilled into his hands. “Yes, that is the one I think would be perfect for a celebration. The material is soft and drapes well on your body. You will look beautiful.”

  She laughed, rolled over and nipped at his chin with her teeth. “You will be thinking about those laces the entire time we are at this celebration.”

  That might be true, but he hoped she would be distracted enough to get her through when she saw the number of Carpathians concentrated in a small area. Already she was shifting, a little screech owl, wings outspread, flying into the night. He was after her, the male owl smaller, lighter and much faster. He kept pace, alert for any danger to her as they covered the distance to the compound.

  The two owls circled above the party below them before slowly beginning a spiraling descent into the shadows of the garden just beside the healing grounds. When Elisabeta emerged in her true form, wearing the long forest-green dress with the tight corset of crisscross cords over her breasts, she turned and gave him a look of pure reprimand.

  “You knew what this would be like.”

  He couldn’t deny it. He took her hand and walked her to the very edge of the garden and then wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his body to shelter her. “We had our time this rising together, and I knew I could not be so selfish as to keep you from seeing the celebration the others are having.”

  The music was beautiful, rising to the night sky, the band playing instruments and couples dancing. Others talked and laughed together while children ran around, sometimes dancing and other times pretending to fight an enemy. The little girls somehow had gotten hold of sparkles and glitter and were generously dousing the ground, flowers, people and everything in sight.

  Josef came into view, several older children following him, each armed with buckets of glitter on their belts and some kind of weapon they had tied to their backs in easy reach. It wasn’t hard to see that he was the instigator.

  I do love to see the children playing like this, Ferro, but sooner or later, someone will insist I talk to them, and I just can’t do it yet. She spoke on their much more intimate pathway. When so many are around I feel too exposed.

  Ferro kept his arms around Elisabeta’s waist, holding her tight. “You are doing just fine, minan piŋe sarnanak. As you can see, most of the Carpathians are coming together either for the first time or getting reacquainted. No one is going to notice or be upset if I do the talking for us. I do wonder what Josef is up to with all this colored glitter. It looks as if these children are up to something.” Now the children were all gathered around the stone dragons in the middle of the courtyard.

  He was just a little too pleased that she still preferred him to talk for her in a crowd. He wasn’t certain he liked that trait in himself, the one that wanted her a little reliant on him.

  I will always like to have you close to me, Ferro. It is my nature. That does not make me less empowered.

  Her voice brushed gently through his mind, her soothing fragrance surrounding him, there in the midst of so many other scents. He heard the sound of children laughing and watched as Tariq’s oldest boy, Danny, bent to lift Darius and Tempest’s son, Andor, in front of him onto his brown stone dragon’s back. The boy slipped up behind him and waited while Amelia put Andor’s twin sister, Aniko, on her orange dragon. The two teenagers whispered to the twins and then to their dragons.

  “I want you to continue to grow in confidence, Elisabeta,” Ferro said. “Do you see Danny and Amelia? The way they are with those children? Darius and Tempest are part of the Dark Troubadours. Whenever I watch the children in any village, they are like these, ready to teach, to entertain, to always share what they have with the little ones. They help with their confidence and self-esteem. They give them knowledge, even in play.”

  The way you share your knowledge with Josef to help him feel as if he can become a great hunter of the vampire when his time comes.

  She wasn’t understanding what he was trying to say. She wouldn’t, because she was so caring and compassionate and it wouldn’t occur to her that he was in any way holding her back.

  “Elisabeta, I am sometimes pulled in two directions,” he confessed reluctantly. “You have a giving, loving nature. I do not want to take unfair advantage of you. If I do so, I do it without realizing that I’m doing so. I confess I like you to rely on me, but by encouraging that behavior rather than insisting you speak with others I am only hampering your independence. I do not want that for you.” That was both true and not. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to find the right way to express his feelings honestly.

  He wanted to be her anchor. He liked the intimacy of their merged minds when it was only the two of them speaking together, when she looked just to him. On the other hand, he wanted the world for her. The world meant she needed to come wholly into herself as a woman capable of standing on her own feet.

  “I want you to always feel as if you are a fully confident woman. Fully capable in your own right of doing anything you feel you wish to do. You will never reach that if I keep you dependent on me as Sergey did.”

  That was one of the most difficult, painful confessions he had to make to her. It hurt. He was grateful he was standing behind her, not looking into her eyes. He didn’t like to feel as if he were letting her down in any way, or that he was falling short of what a true partner should be. He was feeling his way with her, still trying to find a balance of letting go and holding her close when she needed it.

  Love swamped him, slipped gently into his mind, a warmth beyond anything he’d known, filling him up until there was only Elisabeta and her sweet serenity. Her fragrance was in his mind, that soothing tranquility she projected when she merged with him, when they simply talked intimately. He never wanted to give that up.

  You have always encouraged me, Ferro. You opened the door to my cage that very first rising and since have been giving me the tools I needed to learn to fly on my own. I appreciate you so much. I do.

  He nuzzled the top of her head, his heart hurting. Pounding with love for her. Swelling with pride. He was a warrior, a skilled hunter, and he couldn’t conceive of the courage it took to face the challenges she faced each rising.

  I will always be me, she continued. I will always have the kind of nature I have. It is possible, even probable, the centuries as a prisoner added to my natural sensitivity. I developed certain skills, honed them much more than I might have had I not been locked up. I feel things very deeply and sometimes cannot turn that off. You shield me when I cannot do so. You are my shelter. My refuge. I count on you and retreat when I know I cannot take any more bruising.

  “Any more bruising?” He didn’t like the sound of that. He went very still inside. Had he pushed her too hard? Was he guilty of listening to the voices around him instead of being in tune with his lifemate’s needs? “What do you mean, Elisabeta? Am I not taking proper care of you? You promised me you would always tell me if you were upset with anything.”

  I do push myself, Ferro. I do because I want to be strong and always stand with you as your partner. It does not upset me to do that, but it does feel as if sometimes I am battered and cannot even look at my surroundings one more moment.

  “Elisabeta.” He breathed her name. With reverence. With regret. How could he not see her struggle? He was merged with her, yet he had not known.

  He stood in the shadows of the courtyard while around them the music of the Dark Troubadours played, the hauntingly beautiful voice of their singer, Desari, floating into the air, touching all within hearing distance. She had a gift, and yet in that moment, Ferro could hear only what his woman had admitted to him. How had he not known?

  He was used to the wild country. The mountains and forests, not the cities with houses and so many people. His instincts were ho
ned beyond even the majority of the Carpathians’ greatest hunters, yet his own lifemate, a gentle, compassionate woman, suffered because he hadn’t been able to see her pain. That was unconscionable. Unacceptable.

  He had gone to the monastery when he had proven to be too dangerous even to his own kind. The mists had surrounded him when he was in those thick walls, behind the heavy gates, but that protection had enhanced his instincts, not diminished them.

  “How could I not know you were struggling, sívamet? How could you not share this with me? You had to have found a way to hide this from your lifemate.”

  He found himself hurt—and that was a rare and unfamiliar emotion, as was the anger that mixed with it. “Omission is dishonesty, Elisabeta. By your omitting what was happening to you, I was unable to take proper care of you. How did you hide this from me?” He poured demand into his voice, and for the first time he truly didn’t care if he sounded too much like a dominant, demanding male.

  She was silent for a long moment while he worked at breathing in and out of his lungs in a deep, natural pattern. He kept his heartbeat steady. He didn’t tighten his hands or his arms on her when he wanted to crush her to him. She needed him to be calm for her. Fine tremors went through her body, all too reminiscent of when she first had risen to his beckoning song.

  She had come a long way in a short time, but truthfully, he had expected too much from her. Everyone had. She had risen to the occasion because he had asked it of her. Ferro nearly groaned aloud. Desari’s voice, so hauntingly beautiful, filled the night sky. The sound of the children’s delighted laughter added to the beauty of the evening. His woman stood at the edge of the courtyard with a virtual crowd moving around her. Men and women dancing, dragons in the air, wheeling and dipping as their riders gave the young children a thrill. This was all new to his woman and yet she was expected to participate.

  He waited, knowing Elisabeta took her time when she answered anything that she felt was very important to him, choosing her words carefully. He would have stopped her, told her he was the one in the wrong, but he had to know how she hid things from him. It couldn’t continue. He had to have access to all parts of her mind. He never wanted her to suffer, or feel bruised and battered. If they were going too fast in her lessons, or she didn’t want to learn to be so modern, they had centuries to learn. He had to know when to stop her. She clearly wasn’t going to tell him.