Immortal Heat (The Guardians of Dacia Book 1)

by Loni Lynne

  "You all bleed. Sit, Nonni take care of you." The old woman hustled around for herbs and dressings.

  "There isn't time, Nonni. We need to get you out of here," Therron commanded.

  Marilyn noticed blood caked and some dripping from Draylon's head. She went to touch it and he grabbed her hand. "We don't have time. The Vamiers are on their way."

  Ren checked a shotgun for ammunition. "They invaded the Wolves Den looking for you. When they saw Draylon, they knew you couldn't be far away."

  "I'll get packed." Marilyn scurried to her room and collected her things. The suitcase would be too much of a hassle if they had to walk. She took out the knapsack she'd stowed away for mountain hiking and packed it with essential clothing and supplies. Checking the inner most pocket of her suitcase, she found the medallion. Securing it inside the vintage handkerchief Nonni had wrapped it in, she placed the medallion in the secret zippered pocket where it wouldn't be damaged or lost. All was good.

  Dressed in layers and hiking boots she'd brought with her, Marilyn was as ready as she could be. She didn't know how far they would have to travel.

  Nonni entered the room, dressed and ready for the twins to take her to safety. "I have something for you…for your journeys." The old woman placed a withered hand on her forehead and whispered words of a blessing or spell.

  Nonni smiled up at her when she finished.

  "What did you do?"

  "I placed a blessing on you to protect you on your journeys," Nonni said.

  "I'm going on more than one journey?"

  Nonni smiled her toothless grin. "There are many journeys in one's life…this will be one of the hardest."

  Chapter Five

  Trying to outrun Vamier's goons was never easy. Draylon needed to get them to the airport in Cluj. If he could get there without any Vamiers tracking him then he was good to go. He'd already called to have his plane fueled and ready. After arguing with Nonni this morning, he'd made a call to Rick. Draylon planned on taking Marilyn to the Dacian compound in the Hoia Forest—it would be the safest place, but Rick didn't agree. He said her well-being would be at stake if he brought her to Dacia.

  His next best place was his home in the Austrian Alps. Built into the tallest, most secluded range he'd found over six hundred years ago, it was the closest thing to his birth home, Eskardel near Dacia. The only way in or out though—flying.

  Marilyn pulled down the wool scarf she'd borrowed from Nonni. "Is Nonni going to be okay? Wouldn't the Vamiers harm her if they knew she'd have access to me?"

  "The guys will take care of her. Ron and Ren won't let anything happen. They have some safe havens," Draylon replied, as they bounced along, hidden amongst the bales of hay and sacks of feed in the farmer's cart.

  Draylon admired the fact Marilyn was concerned about Nonni. He wasn't sure how the two would get along. Nonni's odd reaction to her at first worried him, but when Marilyn took ill, the old woman doted on her as if she were a precious child. The old woman was predictable to a fault, and he'd never seen her so wishy-washy about someone she'd just met.

  Still, Marilyn appeared to take everything in stride—so far.

  A delicate hand came up to feather his hair out of his face. "I wish you'd let me take a look at your wound. Head injuries shouldn't be ignored."

  Draylon shied away, not because of any pain. Her touch did things to him he'd rather not think about while trying to get to safety. It had been a dry spell for him the past decade or so and being around her had him thinking irrational thoughts. She didn't need a demon with blue balls right now.

  "It'll heal. I've suffered worse."

  "Not at my expense, I'm sure."

  Damn, she was adorable. Bundled in layers of clothing, woolen scarf, mittens and hat she looked ready for a playful day in the snow. She'd been easy to work with when they had to make a break for it. She managed to pack practical clothing into a knapsack with the bare minimal supplies. She dressed sensible, too, thermals, denims, sweater under her heavy woolen pea coat. Her shoes of choice, hiking boots. Not the usual six-inch heels his former female acquaintances preferred.

  He'd thought each one he met would be the one. When it came down to the real deal though, he had to let them go and wipe their memories of any time spent together. It was for the best.

  "What are we doing? Do you even have a plan?" Marilyn asked.

  "For now, staying out of sight until we get to Cluj. We may have to walk. Are you up for the trek?"

  "I hike the Appalachian Trail with my friends at least once a year. I think so."

  Draylon laughed. "Good for you. Haven't done that one yet."

  "You're welcome to join us this summer…if you want to…I mean…" She blushed, stammering like a schoolgirl. Her pale, freckled cheeks turned ruddy.

  "I will definitely think about it. Thank you for the invitation."

  Silence stretched for a moment as he studied her. She still had the awkward, coltishness about her, but the past few days of illness had transformed her a bit. Instead of being a tall, slender reed of a young lady, she'd filled out a bit. Her shoulders were broader, her figure rounder and toned. Even her hair appeared to hold more body and waves. What had Nonni done to her?

  "So what do you do when you're not rescuing damsels in distress?"

  "Maybe this is what I do." Draylon knew the best thing to do was keep things light and ease her into the transition she would be making.

  Marilyn rolled her eyes and sighed. "Great. And here I thought I was special."

  He smiled. "I'm the head of a pharmaceutical company."

  "In other words, you're a drug dealer?" She backed away from him. "That's just fantastic. I feel so much safer now."

  He loved seeing her riled. Something told him she wasn't one to get her dander up much. She had an all accepting side to her that as adorable as it was, sometimes made a person weak. The spark and humor in her eyes, the stand-offishness, Draylon wanted to see how far he could go but didn't want to frighten her. "All legal, I assure you. My company specializes in research and development."

  "Sounds like Livedel, the company my mother works for."

  "My company is a part of Livedel. We merged many years ago."

  "Eskardel Pharmaceuticals?"

  "You know of it?"

  "Um, yeah…I'm an employee at Livedel. I deal with sales and support for all divisions."

  "I thought you were a student of history?"

  "I've been an intern since I was sixteen, while going to school. When I came home for semester break, I became a full-time employee. But I was supposed to be on sabbatical while finishing my degree here in Romania. Mom wasn't happy with me leaving, or studying History for that matter. She wants me to take over her position at Livedel some day." She sighed.

  "Not something you want to do, I take it?"

  "No. I can't see myself behind a desk, giving orders. I'm not strong enough to do that. I guess I never got that gene from my mother."

  "Strength is not just hereditary. Sometimes it comes from the issues we face, what hardships we're dealt."

  Marilyn shrugged. "I suppose."

  An uncomfortable topic for her? He could change it. "So you know Rick Delvante, too."

  "Only that I know he owns Livedel. I've never met him. I don't think many people have."

  Draylon shook his head. "No, he keeps to himself for the most part. He's the one who sent me to keep you safe. Somehow he knew you were in danger being here in Europe."

  "So that's who started all of this?"

  He was delighted to know this young woman knew who Rick Delvante was. Not many young ladies he'd known kept up with international business—no matter how influential the business might be.

  "We've been friends for awhile. He asked me to look after you and here I am."

  "I'll bet Mom had something to do with it. She didn't want me to come to Romania. She all but forbade me to come here. After my father left her and went missing here in Ro
mania, Mr. Delvante kind of took us under his wing in a way."

  "Your father's missing? Who was your father?"

  "Richard Reddlin. He was a Romanian archeologist. He'd gone on an expedition into the Hoia Forest to do some research and never returned. The authorities never found his remains," she relayed. "I never got to met him. He went missing before I was born. Still, I think my mother hasn't found closure since losing him."

  Draylon's jaw tightened. Romanian archeologist, Hoia Forest, too coincidental or too easy putting two and two together? The Hoia Forest was where Dacia was located. If this Richard Reddlin had gotten too close to Dacia, it was a good bet the man was never heard from again. Rick would have some explaining to do when he called his friend later. Too damn coincidental to have been an accident. What had Rick done with Richard Reddlin?

  Marilyn didn't remember the trip to Nonni's being so far the other night. But then they had driven some of it, well kind of in a demolition derby sort of way. Still, she followed Draylon through the afternoon shadows, taking back roads and occasionally seeing farmers pulling their wagons of goods into town.

  It had been a blessing to be able to get off her feet. Marilyn knew she'd have blisters. So when the farmer and his wife came by with his wagon, they'd asked for a ride into Cluj. The farmer had told them he was only going as far as the hospital to get medical treatment for his wife. Had the couple stopped to show charity or had their good fortune been based on Draylon's mind manipulations? At times she sensed his thoughts, or thought she did, and then a dark wall separated her from seeing past the outer edges. She decided not to dwell on it too much. There was no way she was psychic. Still she wanted to know the truth, and he would be the one with answers.

  "Why am I being hunted?"

  "Right now is not the best time to discuss the issue. But I haven't a clue. What I'm more concerned about is getting you safely out of this country like I should have done from the start."

  "Because Vamier wants me? For what purpose? I'm only a history student."

  "Maybe there's something you know that he doesn't."

  Marilyn shrugged. "My paper's cut and dry on what Dacian history I could find and what I pieced together from my father's old notes. He'd only told me he was fascinated with my theories and thought we should work together."

  Frozen, tired and hungry, Marilyn couldn't figure out which one she suffered from more. They'd rode into Cluj in relative safety with the older couple. This was their last stop. Draylon insisted on paying them for their troubles.

  "We walk from here. It's not that far."

  The large wad of cash Draylon pulled out of his tote had Marilyn wondering if he was possibly a drug dealer after all. She'd never seen someone carry so much at once. The jury was still out on what she thought of him. He was sexy—sure, but that didn't necessarily mean she could trust him. Daniel had been clean cut and handsome, but he'd been a major piece of work.

  No, Draylon took care of her, protected her from the vampire-like creatures over the past week and had given her shelter, even though it was within a witch's house. Part of her wondered when this bizarre dream would end.

  After dealing with the farmer who they'd been traveling with, Draylon shook his hand and shouldered his backpack onto his back. The farmer argued—trying to give Draylon some of the money back. Finally, the man stopped, looked at the money and tucked it into his pocket.

  Touching his hat in salute to the farmer, Draylon motioned for her to hurry. Stunned, Marilyn arranged her backpack and secured everything around her for best comfort and ran to catch up to his long strides.

  "Why didn't you just do that mind-manipulation with them and leave it at that?" she asked, catching up with him.

  "I didn't have to use my mind control, at least not at first. They were willing to take us to Cluj. But when he wouldn't take the money I offered, I finally persuaded him too. His wife's ill and the medical bills are piling up. I think $200 will help out, it equals about 670 Leu right now."

  He shook his head. "They are a proud people…I had to do something. He'd refuse it otherwise."

  Okay, Draylon's "nice factor" inched up her judgment scale. He took care of people—even those he didn't necessarily know.

  "Come. I want to get us out in the open soon. I have a friend who will take us to the airport."

  The hike was at least a good five miles. Marilyn followed Draylon through the city streets, taking her along open passages and high traffic areas. He'd informed her that the moroii, or what the Romanian people called "vampires," didn't want the risk of being caught in daylight—should it appear. They kept to hidden doorways and allies. So avoiding those areas were to their advantage.

  Pangs of hunger cramped her stomach, and she doubled over as it gurgled.

  Draylon stopped to watch her, his brows turned inward. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes…I think so. Just hungry—very hungry." She shook her head. "I'm usually not one to suffer. I can go without eating for awhile. But this is painful."

  "Did you eat at Nonni's?"

  "Yes. I had corn meal mush and bread with honey."

  He gave her a puzzled frown and nodded. "Well, we're almost there. I can see if Ballue has something to eat before we continue."

  Nodding, Marilyn felt foolish for having to beg food from a stranger, but if it would help, sure.

  They arrived at a large, old European façade fronted home nestled among modern day buildings and small apartment complexes. The glass in the doors and windows were old stained glass, making it church-like. The heavy oak and glass doors were decorated with antique knockers. Marilyn watched and waited for them to turn into Marley from Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol, as Draylon lifted the heavy ring and let it fall. Just as she thought they might morph, the door creaked open and a man dressed in jeans and a black sweater ushered them in, closing the door behind them.

  "Ballue." Draylon gestured to Marilyn. "This is Marilyn Reddlin."

  The tall blond-haired Adonis, who looked like he would be more comfortable in a magazine shoot, leaned against the dark wall. His eyes had a strange silver gleam to them.

  "Marilyn. I've heard a lot about you."

  His accent was difficult to place, but it was his smile that instantly had her on guard.

  "He's a moroii! Is he one of Vamier's?"

  "At one time, perhaps…I managed to find my own way thankfully." Ballue straightened and led them into the darkened hall. "Come. You are safe here for now."

  The hall opened up to a grand room of dark mahogany and shelves upon shelves of books lining the walls. A grand fireplace, complete with roaring fire, pulled Marilyn into its warmth. Even with all her layers the bitter cold had soaked into her bones.

  "Let me make you something to drink," Ballue said.

  "She would prefer something to eat…if you have food."

  "I keep a freezer full of meat in case I need it. I took a couple of steaks out last night, thinking I might need them, but my groceries came in on time." He looked at Draylon before turning back to her. "Would a steak suffice?"

  The sound of the word 'meat' made her saliva glands activate. She could drool all over the polished hardwood floor. No, but she might faint. The dizziness indicated low sugar levels or running on empty. But that was impossible.

  "Let's go into the kitchen while I prepare it for you."

  Marilyn trailed behind the two men down a short hallway into a large modern kitchen with old style charm. Nothing was pre-pressed plywood or plastic. Like Nonni's, this place exuded masculine warmth and ruggedness. The wooden beams across the ceiling looked original, the stucco plaster walls with their black iron sconces and simple candles had her thinking more along the lines of medieval castles. Only the sterling silver appliances made for a restaurant gave it away.

  "Sit. I'll pour some wine and wait for the grill to heat."

  Watching as Ballue took the raw steak out of the refrigerator, her eyes narrowed on his every move. He laid t
he plate of meat on the counter in front of the bar where she sat. The two guys weren't paying any attention to her, they were catching up on some local news. Marilyn's taste buds went crazy. The hunger deep in her stomach exploded.

  Before she knew what she'd done she tore into the slab of raw meat. Juices coated her hands, running like bloody gashes from her fingers. A hand reached out to try to take the meat. Snarling her lip, she growled in warning not to come any closer.

  Within moments the meat was gone, devoured, her hunger satiated for the time being. She licked the bloody juices from her fingers, making sounds of pleasure. When she finished, she looked up to see the two men gawking at her.

  What were they staring at? She glanced from them to her plate and back. Bloody traces of what had once been a large piece of raw meat smeared the fine china. She felt sick. She'd never eaten raw meat.

  The minute her brain digested the truth, her stomach decided it didn't want to digest anything. Holding her hand to her mouth, she gestured.

  "First door on your left—down the hall," Ballue said quickly for her benefit.

  Draylon followed on her heels and burst through the door before she could shut him out of the bathroom. Her stomach rolled, emptying everything she'd just eaten and then some. Holding her hair back from her face, Draylon maneuvered to reach for a washcloth. Soaking it in cold water, he tried to place it on her forehead as another bout of pangs struck her.

  "Anything I can do, Old Man?"

  "Have any ginger on hand? She could do with some ginger tea. Then I think she'll be fine."

  "All right. But I don't think tea will solve her problems."

  Getting Marilyn out of the country wasn't easy. Draylon wouldn't have Ballue expose himself to daylight, but today, the weather was on their side. He needed the help right now, especially with Marilyn passed out from sickness. It was good to have friends in low places. It was rare to find a rogue Vamier, but Ballue was one of the few he could trust.