“Cover Natalya, Mirko! I’m going to protect my sister.” Jubal picked up two more cans of hairspray and raced out the door.
The few people crowding close to see what was happening, ran when Jubal burst out of the same room where several hideous creatures had just emerged from. No one was in the hall, but the walls seemed to expand and contract as if the building itself was breathing heavily. The door to Natalya’s room was ajar and Jubal skidded to a halt wanting the lighter out in case he needed it to defend himself or Gabrielle.
“I’m coming in,” he warned just before peeking his head around the door.
His heart stuttered when he looked at his sister. She was white, almost gray, the life gone from her face, and both Raven and Sara looked pale, their expressions focused as they concentrated on keeping Gabrielle alive. Mikhail, in his Vikirnoff disguise, and Falcon moved carefully around the room, examining the walls and floor.
“We are taking Gabrielle out of here, Jubal,” Falcon explained, his voice calm. “Mikhail is leading them away to give us time to get Gabrielle to safety.” In the very likely event vampires were near, Falcon wanted to preserve the masquerade as long as possible that Mikhail had left the inn.
“Is she dead?”
“I will not lie to you. We are keeping her alive, but we do not know if what we are doing will work. She is mortally wounded. Vikirnoff holds her spirit to prevent her from passing now. We can keep her body functioning, but we cannot contain her essence. He was the first person here and her spirit is sealed to his until she dies—or completes the conversion.”
“We must go now.” Mikhail mimicked Vikirnoff’s voice perfectly. There was urgency in his tone. “I feel the presence of the vampire, but cannot locate his exact position.”
The tigress pushed its way into the room, ignoring the others as she caught up her pack in her teeth and went into the bathroom. Natalya emerged a couple of minutes later, still shoving weapons into the loops on her pants.
“Sorry it took so long, but there were a few of them. You have to go now.” Her birthmark was burning painfully. “Another vampire is close.”
“Jubal, bring the car around,” Vikirnoff/Mikhail instructed as he lifted Gabrielle into his arms. “Hurry, we do not have much time.”
Raven and Sara crowded close to him, protective of the woman as the prince started for the balcony.
Without warning, pieces of the ceiling rained down in sharp spears. Raven threw her hands into the air, creating a shield as they raced for the balcony. Jubal tossed the can of hairspray to Natalya and ran out of the room and down the stairs, using the front entrance to get to the car.
Natalya and Falcon separated, each moving to an opposite corner of the room. Natalya lifted her sword in preparation. The ceiling gaped open, and something dark and shadowy dropped into the room. She recognized the vampire immediately. Knowing Falcon had the better chance of killing him quickly, she stepped out of the corner to draw his attention.
“You’re too late, Arturo,” she greeted. “And you look a little worse for wear. Did you and your master have a bit of trouble with the shadow warriors, because, honestly, you look like you’ve been sliced and diced.”
He snarled, flexing his hands into claws. “You. The hunters deserted and left you to your fate.”
“The hunters didn’t think you were worth their time. I told them I could handle you no problem. I’ve already killed you, sheesh, let me think”—she tilted her head to study his face, lined now with hideous scars—“at least four times, maybe more. The battles with you seem to blur together.”
Falcon glided in silence to stand directly behind the vampire.
“I’m really going to miss you, Arturo, but all good things must come to an end,” Natalya said and took a step toward him, sword at the ready.
Falcon struck from behind, driving his fist through skin and sinew and bone, grasping the heart and wrenching it from Arturo’s body. Lightning forked across the sky and slammed through the hole in the roof hitting the heart as Falcon dropped it, incinerating it immediately.
“Nice work,” Natalya said. “You don’t fool around. I hope you can repair the place for Slavica and Mirko,” she added. “I’m going after Vikirnoff.”
“He is an experienced hunter. He will not want his lifemate to place herself in jeopardy.” Falcon directed the lightning to the body. “He expects me to guard the prince.” It was the only apology he could give her.
“I am well aware of what he expects.” Natalya raced for the bathroom again. She’d changed her clothes so many times in one day she was beginning to get annoyed with the whole thing. “Go. You do what you have to do and I’ll do what I have to do.”
“Good hunting.”
“Same to you.” Vikirnoff had drawn off a pack of vampires and he might lead them in circles just to buy the prince and Gabrielle time, but eventually he would have to fight them. She was damned if he was going to do it alone.
Natalya undressed once again. It took seconds to shove weapons, ammunition and clothes in her pack before slinging it around her neck and shifting back to her animal form. She could always put out the rumor of an escaped circus animal or let the Carpathians worry about a cover story. The roof was repaired and Falcon already gone when she reentered the bedroom. There was no body and no singe marks on the floor, not even from her practicing with the hairspray cans.
The tigress leapt from the balcony to the wraparound deck and then to the ground. She sprinted through the town, keeping to the shadows as best she could, avoiding humans whenever possible. She heard a few murmurs as people caught glimpses of the tigress moving fast through the bushes and trees. With all the events at the inn, there would soon be many frightening tales that would grow with each telling into large legends and her tigress would become a part of that.
She stayed connected to Vikirnoff, reaching past his persona of the prince. He was thinking thoughts the vampires might pick up, thoughts of his people and how it was so important to stay alive to protect them. She considered Vikirnoff’s impressions of what Mikhail might be thinking idiotic. . . .
Idiotic? These are princely thoughts. What do you think you are doing?
Following you. Watching your back. You’re leading them deeper into the forest, aren’t you? Where he would have to deal with them alone. Natalya wasn’t about to let that happen, whether he wanted help or not.
Yes. I want them away from the inn, but in a place of my choosing to fight. Far away from where his lifemate would be in danger.
Arturo is dead. Falcon killed him and he’s guarding the prince. He said it’s what you’d expect of him.
Of course.
Natalya sighed at the perfect calm in his voice. He had gone into his battle mode and put aside his feelings, relying on centuries-old warrior instincts. They said only you could keep Gabrielle alive. What did they mean?
I am the keeper of her spirit. They will continue to try to heal her body and Falcon will give her blood next. They will try to heal her again and Mikhail will give her blood. She will go through the conversion at that time. If she is strong enough, if my will and her will are strong enough, we will see that she lives.
Natalya increased her speed, cutting through a meadow and bounding over a hill. She took every short cut she could find as she raced to find his chosen battleground. Can you do that and fight, too?
Of course.
Of course. She repeated it sarcastically. Why did I bother to ask? You’re invincible. How many do we face?
We?
Yes, we. And don’t argue with me. You’re already in enough trouble with me.
She received the brief impression of his teeth snapping together. Five. But not Maxim.
At the name, Natalya’s heart gave a jump of fear. That’s a relief, but I’d like to know why. If he went to the trouble of springing a trap, why isn’t he here with his little minions? You might be heading into an ambush.
Feel to the north. There is a battle taking place. The night sky is
alive with lightning and the earth is groaning. I believe Maxim was on his way and ran into a hunter of great skill. Look to the sky.
There was something in his voice. Expectation. Caution. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she paused as she loped up the hill and looked toward the north. In the distance, lighting forked across the sky, not in long jagged whips, but in the shape of a glowing dragon breathing fire. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt the birthmark throb on her body, even beneath the thick pelt of the tigress.
That is the mark of the Dragonseeker. No other Carpathian uses that image in battle. To my knowledge, only you and Dominic remain. Of course the world is a big place and maybe more still live.
In spite of herself, in spite of the situation, racing across the hills to guard Vikirnoff’s back, Natalya couldn’t help the thrill rushing through her at the sight of the dragon in the air. It took her a moment to realize Vikirnoff’s voice was coming from a much greater distance than she had first realized. He was diverting her with the truth, with something he knew would throw her off his trail, if even for a few minutes so he had a better chance of leading the vampires away from her.
The tigress took off at a ground-eating lope, going for higher ground and the safety of the trees. Why are they called Dragonseekers? She was not going to give away the fact that she was on to his little plan. He was leading the vampires to a specific location. She had a vague idea of where it was from reading his mind, but he was doing his best to shadow his thoughts. She increased her speed, moving as quickly as possible without draining her strength.
Dragons represented celestial and terrestrial power, wisdom and strength to the Dragonseekers and they sought the power and wisdom of the dragons. It was not so much the elusive creature they sought, but the code, what the dragon represented. We believe in ancient times, a dragon bestowed gifts to the first Dragonseeker, or perhaps, there is dragon in the bloodline. Who knows which is truth?
The ground shook beneath the tiger’s paws and she snarled, gripping the earth with claws as she looked warily around. Overhead the sky darkened, clouds blotting out the stars one by one, spreading across the moon in a reddish-brown stain. The wind began to pick up around her, small at first, blowing through the trees so that the leaves rippled with strange life. She crouched lower and moved with more caution, weaving through the dense brush and timber.
She sniffed the air and sent the senses of the tigress along with her own out into the night, seeking information. A few miles ahead, another battle had begun. Vikirnoff had made his stand and, just as she feared, he refused to show the vampires he had tricked them, continuing the illusion of being the prince and making no further attempt to outrun them.
You’re an idiot. She murmured it more to herself than to him, but damn him all the same. He just didn’t have good sense when it came to fighting. She believed in the old adage “Run away to fight another day.” She covered the last couple of miles with relative ease and under concealment of thick brush shifted back to her natural form. She dressed hastily and readied her weapons before sitting a moment to recover her strength and breath.
Lightning flashed continually and there was a noxious odor that indicated Vikirnoff had scored against at least one vampire. Natalya crept stealthily through the thick foliage to get a better view of what was happening. She pushed aside leaves and her breath caught in her throat.
Vikirnoff glided with grace and power, his body as graceful as any dancer’s, his features hard-edged and free of all emotion, sculpted in masculine lines and set with intense concentration. She could see him clearly beneath the illusion, his determination, his focus. He moved with blurring speed in the circle of vampires, striking fast at one, retreating before they could touch him, only to strike at another.
Natalya stared at him, utterly mesmerized by him, by his masculine beauty as he fought a battle against so many. She had never seen such a demonstration of power or skill. He flowed like water around them, always moving in a circular pattern, his feet barely skimming the ground. Admiration and respect welled up and spread through her.
Natalya crouched there, unable to take her eyes off of him, fascinated by him, proud of him. Muscles rippled beneath his shirt and he looked both elegant and a warrior. His long hair swung with each motion, looking like fluid silk. She could barely see Mikhail superimposed over Vikirnoff, he was that strong to her. The tigress moved inside of her, recognizing its mate. The dragon, her birthmark burned from the close proximity to the vampires, but it throbbed with a different kind of heat as she watched him fight.
She would never forget that moment, that sight of him blazing with power and energy, moving with fluid grace and absolute merciless resolve. “You are my lifemate.” She whispered it aloud, awed by the fact that her body knew him long before her mind made the acknowledgement.
She watched in amazement as he literally ripped the heart from a chest, while two vampires collided in the air where he had been a split second earlier. She felt she was watching a choreographed battle, every move prearranged and rehearsed.
Vikirnoff kept the vampires off center using his blurring speed, not wanting them to realize he was not the prince. These were fledgling vampires, pawns Maxim used as fodder to inflict as much damage as possible to weaken the lines of defense. Vikirnoff was certain Maxim had sent the fledglings to the inn to fight and hopefully wound the hunters guarding Mikhail. Maxim would have planned to be right behind them for the kill, but he had not calculated or considered that chance would bring another experienced hunter into the fray.
As Vikirnoff dissolved into vapor to keep from being split in two by the most experienced of the undead, he glanced toward the north. By the look of the sky in that direction the Dragonseeker had Maxim on the run. The master vampire would never be foolish enough to fight such an experienced hunter without a clear advantage. At least the trap had been broken up before there were too many losses.
In the form of vapor Vikirnoff streamed behind a dark-haired vampire and reached out, shifting back into his form at the last second, catching the head between his hands and wrenching hard to break the neck. It wasn’t a killing blow, but each wound served to weaken the enemy. He immediately was on the move again, running up the side of a tree to back flip over the top of the same vampire, kicking him as he did so to knock him to the ground. He had successfully destroyed two of the five vampires and so far had only minor scratches to show for it.
The vampires pulled back, dragging their injured comrade with them. As Vikirnoff approached them, they threw up a barrier between them. Vikirnoff settled to earth and studied their faces.
“I do not recognize any of you. How is that?”
“You do not recognize a childhood friend, Mikhail?” The one with the broken neck snarled. Spittle ran down his face and he wrenched at his neck, settling his head more carefully on his shoulders. “I am Borak, and you must remember Valentine and Gene. We ran with you in these very forests, yet you cannot even remember who we are.”
Vikirnoff bowed, a simple courtly gesture from the waist. “Forgive me, Borak, it must have been that the years have changed you. I remember your youth and unmarked face, not the vision of evil you have chosen to become.” He held up his hands and for a moment, crystal clear water swirled in his palms, reflecting back the faces of the three vampires.
They shrieked and hissed as they swirled long capes over their faces to hide from their repulsive images.
Vikirnoff dropped his hands to his sides. “You see why I do not remember old childhood friends.”
“You have no friends,” Valentine snapped. “Even Gregori has deserted you. All of them. They deliberately left you alone, knowing there would be an attack. Your own people have decided your fate. They want you dead.”
The flutter of wings filled the air. The sky darkened overhead as a migration of large vampire bats flooded the area. They began to settle in the trees, ringing the battleground, hundreds of them, more even, folding wings and gripping with tiny cl
aws. There were so many on some of the branches that the limbs drooped with the weight.
“Come and kill me, Valentine. I await your pleasure.”
Valentine snarled, exposing his jagged teeth. He glared at Mikhail. “You mock me, but it matters little when I know you have no way out.”
Vikirnoff spread his arms. “You are welcome to try, Valentine. You are stalling in the hopes that your master will tell you what to do.”
Natalya could see a difference growing in the vampires. Where before they had been cowering behind the shield they had erected, now they were standing taller, eyes beginning to glow, taking on more strength of purpose. She was certain their master had begun to pour power into them as well as a battle strategy. She looked toward the north. The lightning dragon was gone and once more the skies in that direction were calm.
Over her own head, dark clouds spun and twisted, and a light rain had begun to fall. She couldn’t tell if it was natural or not, or who might be controlling the weather. The vampires spread out, their bodies glowing with a ghostly light. Borak looked grotesque with his head skewed to one side. His head flopped continually and he muttered threats and spit curses as he readjusted it on his shoulders.
The bats fluttered and began to spread their wings. Some took to the air while others dropped to the ground. The way the creatures stalked Vikirnoff across the ground, using their wings in a stilted, crablike walk was so creepy Natalya shivered, goose bumps rising on her arms and legs. The bats formed two circles around Vikirnoff and the vampires, the inner circle moving clockwise, the outer circle moving counter-clockwise. Her heart began to beat faster and she took several deep breaths to slow it, not wanting to give her presence away. She had to trust him. She did trust him, yet it took tremendous self-control to keep from shouting out a warning. Natalya shoved her hand into her mouth and bit down hard.
Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS Page 102