Dark Sentinel ('Dark' Carpathian Book 32)

by Christine Feehan

  Just as the puppet is programmed to certain behaviors, so are they. They are under the influence of Sergey. If you invite them in, they will invite the puppet in or force you out to him. The puppet will kill both of them and take you to his master. They don’t know that because they don’t understand what is happening. They are pawns to be sacrificed. Bait.

  The world tilted as a wave of dizziness rushed over her. I can’t watch them die, Andor. I can’t. I’d rather go with him and hope you rescue me.

  You cannot save them, csecsemõ. There was so much compassion in his voice she nearly wept. She pressed the hand gripping the gun to her heart.

  No, I can’t. But you can. Please, Andor, for me. Do this for me. I can’t watch them die. I can’t see this thing, obviously once a friend, kill them and then eat them.

  He will not kill them first. They prefer their victim alive and filled with adrenaline for as long as possible, just as a vampire does.

  Lorraine took a deep breath and let it out. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead and trickling between her breasts. We’re only an hour or so before sunset. Can the others rise and kill it? She knew they were still too far away from sunset. These Carpathians were ancients and had a particular sensitivity to the sun.

  The puppet was so much closer. Too close. Adam and Herman screamed, terror mounting, but they couldn’t make themselves run from the man who’d once been a friend.

  If I shoot him with arrows or the flamethrower, will that take him down?

  Andor sighed. Invite the two men inside the safety circle, Lorraine. I will strike at them and put them out so they cannot invite the puppet in. I am nowhere near full strength so you will need to keep an eye on them at all times. If necessary, you will shoot them, do you understand? They cannot speak.

  Thank you, Andor.

  For one moment, she debated. He still sounded weak. Would forcing him to save these two men push him back to square one after all the concentrated work the others had done to get him ready for travel? Still, the puppet came closer, and she wanted to scream in fear for the humans and also for Andor.

  I am here, Ferro said. I will join with Andor. He will not have to use much energy to control these men.

  Sisarke, Sandu joined them. I am here.

  As am I, little sister, Gary joined in.

  Lorraine let out her breath. “Herman, Adam, I invite you in. Come into the circle of safety. Now. Hurry.”

  Both men whirled around and rushed the barrier. The moment they were through it, the puppet bellowed in triumph. Both men opened their mouths to invite the puppet inside, Adam grabbing at Lorraine’s arms, yanking at her, to try to force her out of the zone deemed safe by the Carpathians.

  “Come …” Herman froze in midsentence, his mouth open, one arm outstretched toward the puppet.

  Lorraine hit the back of Adam’s hand hard with the butt of the gun, slamming down on it with enough force she might have broken bones. The adrenaline they wanted in victims rushed through her like a fiery stream. One word escaped Adam’s mouth before he froze in place as well. “Bitch.”

  “You have no idea,” she whispered. But she wasn’t. She was terrified for them. She hadn’t touched their minds, before, but now she did, backing away from them and the barrier, putting distance between her and the puppet.

  She found the exact spot where the ancients had gone to ground and sank down onto the soil, still holding the gun and pulling a flamethrower and a spear closer to her. The puppet roared his rage and kept coming. He hit the wide ribbon of safeguards and tried to bulldoze his way through in spite of the fact that it stopped him.

  Sparks danced in the air, a million of them, flicking all around the puppet. He tried to put his hand through the barricade and flames raced up his arm. He screamed and stumbled back. His face contorted. One of the birds flew from the tree with savage ferocity and shrieks of rage, dove toward the puppet, that wicked, curved beak slashing his face open. Blood and worms poured out.

  Lorraine’s stomach heaved. She couldn’t stop the little cry escaping. This had once been a man. He hadn’t chosen to serve the vampire; he’d been made into what it wanted—a servant to do its bidding. Just as Elisabeta had been made to serve the master vampire. Her gaze went to Herman and Adam, two men frozen in time, their bodies locked into position.

  The puppet rushed the barrier again, this time right in front of Adam. He’d yanked Lorraine to the very edge of the circle where the barricade was. One arm was outstretched. She saw immediately that he was in danger. She leapt to her feet, firing several shots in rapid succession at the puppet, as she ran toward Adam. The puppet jerked hard with each penetration of the bullets, his chest exploding in five places, one right after the other. Each hole leaked a dark, oily-looking liquid with a multitude of wiggling white worms in it.

  She caught Adam by the waist and yanked hard, trying to pull him over as if he was a statue rather than a flesh-and-blood person. The moment she wrenched at him, they both went down, Adam landing on top of her. Immediately his eyes focused on her, and one hand clamped down on her wrist to pin her hand to the ground so he could wrestle the gun from her.

  Lorraine was already in motion. She didn’t care about anything but stopping him calling out an invitation to the puppet. She smashed her free hand as hard as possible into his mouth and then continued to his throat. As his head reared back and came forward, she hit him again, this time in his nose, slamming her palm hard enough to break it. Blood sprayed at her. It trickled from his mouth where she’d knocked out teeth.

  Andor.

  Stomach lurching, she twisted her wrist to free it. Adam had relaxed his hold just enough to allow her to break free, gun still in her fist. One leg trapped his, and she brought her heel down on his groin.

  Beneath her, his body went still, frozen once more. She dared one look at his ruined face and then crawled away from him. Several feet from him, she vomited. She spit several times and rinsed her mouth out with water from the smaller bottle in her pack. All the while, the puppet kept slamming into the barrier, testing every few feet and raising tiny sparks that looked like little fireflies.

  The sounds he made were horrible. He would roar and then bellow. He would shriek and then whimper. Several times he wiped at his chest, smearing the blood and insects all over him. That made her sick all over.

  Lorraine, you must not look at him. It is making you very sick.

  I can’t stop myself.

  We can end his misery right now, but you will have to participate. That way you do not have to watch his suffering until the sun sets. It is not much longer, but all of us are uncomfortable with your pain and misery.

  She covered her eyes but peeked through her fingers as the unfortunate creature flung himself against the safety net and bellowed his rage. Why do I have to participate?

  We must see what we are taking aim at.

  She wiped beads of sweat from her forehead. She wanted to crawl into the ground with Andor. She needed someone to hold her, to comfort her.

  I will be rising soon.

  She heard the frustration in his voice, and felt it in her mind. There was comfort in knowing he wanted to hold her.

  The puppet whimpered, drawing her attention. The bird beat at it with its wings, driving it back toward the barrier. When the puppet shied away from it, the bird pecked at its head with its cruel beak.

  Lorraine’s cry was broken. Tears streamed down her face. I hate this world. I hate what people do to one another. These vampires are even worse. When does it end? You’ve been doing this for so long, Andor, and what good did it do you? Any of you? It feels so hopeless.

  Look at him, sívamet. Keep your eyes open and focus on him.

  She heard compassion, and that should have been soothing, but instead, it made her cry more. She couldn’t imagine his life. Any of their lives. They had survived too many years of watching wars. Watching human beings murder one another over petty things. Watching them kill loved ones because they were no longer in
their right minds and there seemed to be no help for them.

  Can you wipe your tears? There can be no mistake, Lorraine. That was Gary. He was a healer and he had to participate in killing this man.

  He is already, dead, sisarke, Ferro explained. He is no man. The shell you see is held together by a vampire’s will.

  Let us do this, Sandu added.

  She took a breath, laid the gun in her lap and steeled herself. One hand closed in the dirt, holding it tightly as if she could hold on to Andor. She lifted her chin and forced her eyes open, forced them to stare directly at the puppet.

  Almost instantly he burst into white-hot flames. The heat was so intense the fire actually burned blue. It didn’t spread along the grass, staying right on the unfortunate creature. He screamed and shrieked until she thought she’d never be rid of the sound. He fell to the ground and rolled around, but it seemed forever until the sound stopped and all was quiet again.

  Lorraine lay down and curled into the fetal position and closed her eyes. She wasn’t moving until Andor and the others rose, no matter what else came at her.

  9

  Andor rose the moment he was able, moving through soil and around the ancients guarding him to burst through the surface dirt and out into the air. It felt good to be upright and out in the open. The last rays of the sun had faded, giving him the opportunity to get to his woman. She was lying with her knees drawn up into her chest, her hands curled under her chin, making her look small and vulnerable.

  His heart nearly stopped. He had stayed in her mind, feeling her pain, trying to make things better from beneath the ground. Seeing her so distraught was heart-wrenching.

  Too many traumas, Andor, Gary said. We are not out of the woods yet. Sergey sent these men to try to get her for him. He could be close by with an army. He could also be attacking the compound right now, looking for Elisabeta. I sent word to Tariq to be watchful.

  Andor didn’t reply. He doubted if Sergey would try to find Elisabeta’s resting place. That would be safeguarded well. He knew Tariq and several others had woven strong safeguards together to ensure Sergey couldn’t find her. The master vampire would wait. While he waited, he plotted. He had his eye on Lorraine.

  He crouched beside her. “Hän sívamak,” calling her beloved. Meaning it. His heart contracted hard. Nearly seized. His woman was hurting, and he had been in the ground. “Come to me.” He gathered her into his arms, shielding her from the others’ sight, knowing it would embarrass her to have them see her in such a fragile state. He cradled her to his chest, trying to shelter her in his heart and with his body.

  She turned her face up toward his, her long lashes lifting. The beautiful green of her eyes took his breath. “You’re here. Awake. With me.” One hand touched his jaw, and he felt the tremble of her fingers.

  “I am always with you.”

  “You shouldn’t be up. And put me down.” For the first time, she seemed to realize he was out of the ground, no longer lying prone and helpless. His arms were around her, holding her to him, his body protective of hers.

  “I am feeling much better.” He nuzzled her neck and inhaled her scent. Her skin was the softest thing he’d encountered—unless it was her hair, that mass of silk.

  The pulse in her neck called to him. He knew the others waited to feed, but they wouldn’t wait long, not with two fit, but very tainted males right there within their circle. With long strides, he took her into the relative privacy of the trees and sank down, keeping her on his lap.

  She slipped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, giving him her weight, and the feel of her breasts pressing into his chest. “I’ve never really seen you, Andor. Not up close like this. You’re … large. Your chest, your shoulders. You’re a big man.”

  He smiled, his lips against that steady rhythm pulsing in her neck. He kissed her there. “I am. Most Carpathians are tall. Male or female.” Her pulse called to him. Beckoned. He found he was starving—needing the taste of her again. He remembered it.

  I am craving your taste, Lorraine.

  She knew all Carpathians fed on rising. She started to turn her head as if to look toward the circle of safety, where the others were using Adam and Herman for sustenance. He prevented the head turn with one hand, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You are my lifemate, hän sívamak, we provide for each other. The others sustained and attempted to heal me, but on rising, I wish to have your taste in my mouth and moving through my veins.”

  Her eyes searched his for a long time. The more she looked at him—with a mixture of emotions that made his heart hum and the blood in his veins heat—the more he wanted to explore what emotions and feelings with her really were.

  “Yes. The answer to you is always yes.”

  His lips traveled over her neck. Teeth scraped gently and teased at the skin right over her beating pulse. His tongue soothed that small ache. He sank his teeth deep. Her body jerked hard in his arms. She threw her head back and gave a soft erotic cry, her arms pulling him closer to her as he took her blood.

  She tasted like he expected heaven to be. Or some mythical place he’d never found on earth where the world was beautiful. He knew he would never forget this moment, with his woman surrendering to him, giving him such a gift. There were already so many—the most—the gift of herself and of life for him. She was extraordinary.

  Take enough for an exchange, Andor.

  His heart leapt. You are certain? He had to ask, even when everything in him wanted to do just that.

  I want to know what it feels like.

  The others shared with you that it would be safer to have two blood exchanges just in case of an emergency. He wanted his brethren to stop interfering. She needed time to process. That was her way.

  Yes. It makes sense, Andor.

  O jelä peje kaik hänkanak, he hissed softly into her mind.

  That doesn’t sound nice. What does it mean?

  Sun scorch them all, he interpreted. He meant it, too. He was going to beat them within an inch of their lives—once he was up to it. And that would take some time.

  Don’t you want to do a blood exchange with me?

  Was there a small hint of hurt? Sívamet. I want you to make the decision yourself, free of those meddlers and their influence. I want to be your choice. Me. My way of life. I do not want them to pressure you into something you will regret.

  Even wanting her to make the choice with every cell in his body, with his complete heart and soul, he couldn’t pull back. For the first time, he held his woman. He loved having her in his arms and feeling the silk of her hair and satin of her skin. The scent of her was in his lungs as he breathed her in with every inhale. He had the taste of her in his mouth, flowing through his veins and spreading through him like a wildfire.

  Funny you would want that, she whispered into his mind. I was thinking the very same thing, wishing that I was your choice.

  There was something he was missing, a little catch in her voice gave her away. Why would you think you are not my choice?

  You didn’t choose me, Andor. You had no choice whatsoever in this. You encountered a woman who restored emotions and color to you. One who was born with the other half of your soul. If another woman before me had lived and died carrying it, when you met her, she would have been your lifemate, not me.

  He was silent. She didn’t understand the concept yet. What she thought was true, yet not true. He forced himself to stop taking her blood. It was difficult when her taste was designed for him alone, when it set up a craving for her.

  He opened his shirt, one hand at the nape of her neck. She avoided his eyes, looking instead at the thin line he drew across his heavy muscles, making certain to do so above his heart. His wounds were not yet healed, but were doing so from the inside out. Blood beaded along the line, bright drops of ruby red.

  Look at me, hän sívamak. Into my eyes. See only me.

  He waited to command her to feed until those green eyes met his. There was hurt there, just as
he suspected, just as he found in her mind. He gave her the soft command to feed, distancing her enough that she could manage the act without becoming upset by it before their lifemate bond took hold. He knew the exact moment: he felt the jolt through her mind.

  The moment it was there for her, he allowed his body and mind to process his own feelings. The way her lips felt on him. The way fire raced through him. The brush of her hair on his bare skin causing strange electrical sparks to arc from her to him and back, so strong he thought he could almost see them. His body stirred. Reacted. Went hot and full and demanding.

  He savored every reaction to her. He wanted to feel. He needed to after so long without remembering what it felt like to have emotions. And this—with Lorraine—was paradise. He held her to him, his palm cupping the back of her head, feeling those lips moving on him, her tongue, touching her mind so he could taste himself in her mouth.

  Had I found you in another century, it would have been you, Lorraine. If this is not your first life cycle, you would have been reborn over and over. Did you feel attraction toward other men? Did you want to spend your life with another man?

  It isn’t the same thing.

  Yes, it is. You were born for me. I was born for you. I carry the other half of your soul. This is not possible with humans. I have been alive a long time and I have never come across another species where this happens. Do you understand, csecsemõ, I was born for you? To cherish you. To love you. To protect you. To give you a family. All of that, just as you were born for me. That choice was made long ago, by someone far wiser than the two of us.

  It took effort to find words when his body raged at him for the first time that he could remember. He had never felt on the verge of being out of control. Hunters were about control. They had no emotion so when tracking, there was no anger toward their prey. When running across an entire village decimated by a vampire, even in his earlier days, he hadn’t felt sadness or anguish. It had been there, buried inside him, but he hadn’t been able to tap into those emotions. Now that he was able to feel, he could find the deep sorrow for lives lost associated with each memory.