Dark Song

by Christine Feehan

  * * *

  “Traian and Josef killed Edward Varga,” Tariq reported. “Benedek disposed of Sedrick. Petru killed Addler, and Ferro destroyed Ambrus. Cornel and Dorin Malinov managed to slip away, but that doesn’t surprise me.” He looked around him at the Carpathian warriors with various wounds as they aided one another, giving blood and helping one another to heal. “While some of us are making certain there are no traces of the vampires at the clubs and the male psychics are either free of all influences or they met with very sad accidents, we are not yet finished. Ferro says Elisabeta can call Sergey back to her. If she can do this, we can destroy five of the seven master vampires and most of their army in one decisive blow this night. Sergey is very dangerous with the knowledge he carries in his head from his brothers and the high mage. Can Elisabeta really call him to her, Ferro?”

  Ferro nodded his head decisively. “Yes, absolutely she can. He will be unable to resist answering her. He will come.” Gary was working on healing him. Three of the ancients had replenished his blood. All of them would need to be in their best shape of the night. Even better than they had been if they were going to win this next battle.

  * * *

  “Call to him, Elisabeta. Bring him to you. Sergey is unable to resist your call.” They stood together, Ferro and Elisabeta, at the very edge of the meadow. Before them was a long expanse of grass and flowers. The flowers looked asleep, petals closed, while the clouds moved across the sky overhead.

  Her long lashes lifted, her dark eyes liquid with tears. She gave a small shake of her head, resisting his command for the first time. “You are injured, Ferro. He may not be the most intelligent of the Malinov brothers, but he makes up for it in both cunning and cruelty. He will smell your blood and crave it. That will spur him to greater heights of viciousness.”

  “Call to him, minan piŋe sarnanak.” He was implacable.

  “He has a sliver of all of his brothers in him. He has not one but two of Xavier, the high mage, within him. If you defeat him, the moment you extract his heart, all of those slivers will desert him and seek a host. They will scatter, tiny, very dangerous shadows impossible to track. They will find human hosts, possibly children. Each sliver is evil and will corrupt their host and lead them back to the nearest mage or vampire.”

  The plea in her voice shook him. The liquid in her eyes spilled over and tears tracked down her face. Ferro wrapped his arm around her and pulled her beneath his shoulder.

  “You should know me by now, sívamet. Would I go into battle without knowing what I face? I saved Sergey for last because I know what he holds. He cannot live. He will never stop trying to find a way to get to you. Bodies of innocent men, women and children will be nailed to the gates of the compound each rising. We cannot have that. Eventually, your kind heart will break and you will go to find him. Where is your faith in me? Your trust? More importantly, minan päläfertiilam, where is your belief in us?”

  Elisabeta’s dark eyes drifted over his face. “You look so worn, beloved.” She sighed. “If you wish to do this, then we do this.”

  He waited, letting her feel their combined strength. Their power. It rolled over the meadow, filling the air, impossible to contain. She had to feel it the way he did. It wasn’t his power alone, it was hers as well—the two of them together.

  She straightened her shoulders and nodded. “You have a plan. I know that you do. Tell me what you want me to do once he arrives.”

  She knew Sergey would come. Like Ferro, she had no doubt. Ferro smiled down at his little songbird who had finally escaped her cage and yet, with the cage door wide open, she had chosen him, chosen to stay with her centuries-old lifemate.

  “You know the plan, piŋe sarnanak, we have practiced it a thousand times.”

  Master. Elisabeta whispered the call in her mind, keeping her voice thin and fearful. Can you hear me? I have little time. He is not aware.

  At once there was a stirring. A black malevolent presence poured into Elisabeta’s mind, thick like an oil, clogging every pore. Over the centuries she had developed false walls so that the master vampire believed he could search her mind and know what she had been up to. With the exception of having access to her lifemate’s soul, he believed he controlled her completely, when she had slowly built compartment after compartment, pushing him further and further out.

  Now he saw only what Elisabeta wanted him to see. Terror. Fear of her lifemate. Of the Carpathian people. Of their demands on her. She understood nothing of their lives and they made fun of her behind her back because she didn’t know how to do anything for herself. Her lifemate was ashamed of her.

  Why do you bother me? Sergey sounded disdainful.

  Elisabeta hesitated. Retreated. The old Elisabeta would never have answered him or begged him to take her back. She would have been too terrified of the consequences of speaking to him.

  He is drawing closer, she cautioned Ferro.

  In the meadow she stood, appearing shaky, one hand half covering her face, taking several steps back into the deeper concealment of the trees, bending forward as if to peer out, looking up at the sky hopefully.

  Why would he be unaware of what you are saying to me? Sergey demanded.

  He was gone for a long time this rising. When he returned, he was wounded very badly. They called for the healer and several of the ancients to give him blood.

  Does he come alone? Ferro asked. That would be so arrogant but so like Sergey, thinking he could secret Elisabeta away once again. Cornel and Dorin wouldn’t know she was back with him and he would forever have the advantage over them.

  He has two very minor vampires with him. They are circling around the meadow to ensure that I am alone. His intention is to slay them both after he takes me back with him.

  Sergey made a show of sighing heavily. Very well, then. I will take you back, but you will be punished. Walk out into the middle of the meadow. My servants will collect you and bring you back.

  Elisabeta froze. Retreated further into her mind. Shook like the little mouse she was.

  I command you to do this. Walk out into the meadow now or I will leave you to those people. I have no time for your stubbornness.

  She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She simply shivered, a small ball of absolute terror as only Elisabeta could be. She was so magnificent, Ferro wanted to kiss her senseless. Sergey would never leave her there. As a lure, she was absolute perfection, too scared to move. The master vampire was too close to his obsession. He needed her with every breath he drew, and there was no way he was going to allow her to slip through his fingers.

  The two servants of the undead flew toward the forest where Elisabeta had entered. She immediately shifted, just out of sight, rising to the branches, a small female owl, while a young woman in a flowing cape seemed to be running into deeper forest, away from the meadow. She was barefoot, and her dark hair tangled on brush, slowing her down so that the servants caught glimpses of her, just enough to keep them following.

  Elisabeta, stop this game at once. Come to me.

  Where are you? Her voice was very tentative. I do not want to speak to those men or have them touch me. You never allowed it. Never. How do I know it is you?

  Ferro found himself smiling. That was a good point. Sergey couldn’t dispute that. Elisabeta was very clever.

  I am waiting in the meadow, just as you asked. Hurry. Dawn is approaching and I tire of your tantrums.

  Elisabeta allowed her first real, although tentative, excitement to spill into her mind, that Sergey might really be coming for her. Deliberately the leaves rustled by the entrance and she froze. Where are those men? She let fear spill into her voice and mind all over again.

  They cannot get to you. Hurry, Elisabeta. Sergey came into view, hovering just above the ground, building safeguards to surround the entire meadow with just a small path for her to travel. They cannot enter. Only you. Step inside
and I will close the safeguards behind you. Once I have you, we will leave this place. The one who claimed you will not be able to follow, either.

  Sergey’s servants following the elusive shadow of Elisabeta were being tracked by Carpathian hunters. The moment Ferro gave the word, they would be taken down.

  Appearing almost small in her cape, although she was tall, like all Carpathian women, Elisabeta looked all around her before she stepped from the shadow of the forest and set foot into the meadow, allowing Sergey to weave the safeguards behind her to lock her there with him.

  He beckoned to her impatiently with one long finger. At the end was a wicked-looking nail. “Come to me now, Elisabeta.” He snapped his fingers. “We have to leave this place.”

  Ferro shifted as he approached within a few feet of Sergey. Ferro’s appearance revealed the wicked wounds from his battle with Ambrus. His clothes were torn and showed bloodstains.

  “I see she called you. She fears a new life, but she will get used to it in time.”

  “What have you done with her?” Sergey demanded.

  Elisabeta let out a small moan and presented an image of rocking herself back and forth, of being very small, curling into herself as if terrified. Ferro glided a little closer, covering the smallest of limps, one arm tight against his ribs.

  Sergey flung up his hand, weaving replicas of himself and sending them spinning in a wide circle around Ferro. The ground shifted and rolled, sending the Carpathian tumbling to his knees. Above their heads, within the safeguards, thunder roared and the swirling black clouds opened up to dump acid rain on them. Sergey moved in fast to kick at Ferro’s chin, determined to knock him on his back so he could more easily extract the heart. He also wanted as much of the Carpathian male’s body exposed to the painful acid as possible.

  Ferro caught his ankle, twisted and took him down with his enormous strength, caught the stake Sandu threw to him and slammed it straight through Sergey’s heart, pinning him to the consecrated spot in the meadow. Smoke rose as the vampire’s skin burned. He screamed horribly. Ferro waved his hand to stop the rain.

  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 als
o 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.