Dark Challenge (37 page)

Julian nodded his agreement. “Dayan, I must ask of you that you stay with Desari and see that she comes to no harm should I be mistaken.”

“Perhaps I could draw him out with my voice,” Desari offered, suddenly anxious, not wanting to be separated from Julian.

You will not attempt to draw out the vampire. Dayan will keep you close. Stay linked with me unless I break off suddenly, and do not merge again unless you are in danger. Please do as I ask. Without your cooperation, I will be unable to help Darius.

Desari bit her lower lip. Dayan was moving to her side, his face grim and harsh. “I will concentrate on holding Syndil to us,” she agreed as Dayan gently but firmly took her arm. “I will not fail her.”

“It will be a struggle; do not think it will not be. The ancient undead will not give up his plan easily. It will take the combined strength of both you and Barack. Call her to you now, and hold her to you. Draw her back if you can do so. Darius and I will hunt this monster down.”

Dayan can hunt with him.
She couldn’t help herself.

I must stay with Darius if I am to keep my promise to you. Dayan has not the experience to help should there be need.

Desari sent him waves of warmth and love, surrounding him for a moment in the wealth of emotion before she shimmered into transparency and allowed Dayan to
lead her away from the danger zone. In his mind, Julian heard her soft, persuasive voice, a weapon powerful beyond imagining, a soothing, luring spell calling out to the woman who was like a sister to her. It was a call of need, of love, promising unity, sisterhood, and family.

Julian shook his head to rid himself of the powerful tug of Desari’s enchanting magic. He glanced at Darius. “She is unique in my world. I marvel every time I hear her.”

Darius was busy searching the area around them, all senses alert. “As I do,” he replied sincerely. The women had extraordinary powers. Although he had had the privilege of knowing them for centuries, it had not lessened his memories of admiration of and awe at the women’s incredible gifts. Darius remembered his pride and love for them and held tightly to that memory. No one would harm his women.

Julian’s shape was already contorting as he launched himself skyward, wings spread wide so that the sharp eyes of the bird could catch anything unusual on the ground below. He had a much wider range of vision from above. He studied the blackened area, looking for anything that jarred the line of the landscape, no matter how slight it might be. He knew Darius would seek the vampire using the ability they all had to feel faint shifts in the air or land itself. Darius was a very dangerous male, one a Carpathian even as powerful and experienced and confident as Julian was would not want to have to battle. This vampire had not lived as long as he had without knowing it would be tantamount to suicide to go against one such as Darius. They were dealing with a truly powerful ancient.

Julian concentrated on blocking out everything but what he must find. The real threat to Darius would come from another direction. The undead would be wrestling
the combined strength of Desari’s voice and Barack’s determination to reclaim Syndil. Julian believed in De-sari’s love for Syndil and Barack’s determination that no one would ever harm her again. He was certain they could hold Syndil to them while Darius battled whatever the undead could throw at him.

Julian, within the body of the circling bird, caught a slight movement in a blackened tree a few feet from Darius. The bark, already wracked with pain, dying a slow death, seemed to ripple once. Julian fixed his eyes on it. It rippled again, and the tree trunk itself began to split apart. Darius was moving now, away from the tree toward the middle of the burned landscape. The twisted, blackened ruins of what had once been a beautiful forest looked suddenly sinister, as tree branches reached outlike eerie stick people. Darius was being drawn into the very center of the trap, the vampire deliberately showing a blank space where he wanted Darius to go. High above, the bird circled the blackened land and watched as several charred trees began to ripple like waves, the bark separating from the trunks, long black shadows moving silently to surround the tall, broad-shouldered man.

Darius,
Julian whispered in the leader’s mind.

I am aware of them. They are not aware of you. Has Desari anchored Syndil to us yet?
Darius continued moving toward the center of the blackened forest. He looked neither right nor left, striding with easy, fluid steps, as if out for a mere walk. No one would have guessed he was communicating with another or that he had a single care in the world.

Julian noticed he had shifted his line of travel slightly so that he was veering toward the west.
Desari drew Syndil back toward us enough to give Barack a chance to merge his spirit with Syndil’s. They are together, all
three matching their strength against the power of the vampire. He must abandon his minions to their own fate if he wishes to capture her.

He will go for her body if he cannot take possession of her spirit.

Julian knew Darius’s assessment of the situation was correct. Julian would have to keep the undead from Barack and Syndil’s bodies. He could not afford to turn too much attention to Darius’s coming battle. He would have his own soon enough. Barack and Syndil’s flesh-and-blood bodies must be guarded at all costs.

Above the bird, dark storm clouds began to gather. They were large and ominous, filled to overflowing with water and energy. The arcing of lightning lit the sky, followed quickly by the rumble of thunder, as if heralding the opening to the great battle.
Not fire,
Julian urged quickly.

I am not completely without sense. These creatures are honed in fire. Fire will only increase their power.
Darius sounded as calm as ever, without expression of any kind.

Within the bird’s body, Julian found himself smiling despite the danger surrounding them. Darius was a warrior. He had total and complete confidence in his own abilities. Julian found himself believing that confidence was well-founded.

Lighting flashed from cloud to cloud, long whips of fiery energy. Thunder crashed directly overhead, slamming the earth with a roar of sound, shaking the ground with tremendous vibrations. The black shadow figures seemed to flinch at the sound, their strange shapes contorting, lengthening, so that they appeared to be thin caricatures of humans clothed in long, hooded robes, empty, staring sockets where their eyes should have been, the slashes of their mouths gaping open and moaning
low and incessantly. The robed figures stretched their tree-branch arms outward and began to form a loose circle around Darius.

Still the leader did not look toward them. His pace did not falter, nor did he appear to hear the awful groans escaping from the ghouls pursuing him. Once he shook his head slightly so that his long ebony hair fell around his shoulders loosely, giving him even more the appearance of an ancient warrior. He looked what he was—a dangerous fighter, his face harsh and merciless. There was no pity in his black eyes, no compassion for those fashioned by the undead.

The shadow figures began to murmur softly, an ancient chant as they circled toward the left, the ring loose and flowing as they appeared to float above the charred earth.

Julian felt his heart slam hard in his chest. A binding from the depths of darkness. Could Darius possibly know a counterspell? It was difficult not to become too absorbed in what was happening below him, not to rush to aid. Julian’s task was to watch those two bodies, to ensure that no harm came to them. He circled lazily above Barack and Syndil, watching the earth for signs of disturbance. His mind was still merged partially with Desari, that he might know the battle they waged with Syndil for her freedom from the undead’s trap. The vampire was patient, pulling at Syndil relentlessly, bending his will to one purpose only. His best chance was to draw Syndil’s spirit away from Desari and Barack, that he might triumph.

Desari was a formidable opponent, her beautiful voice casting a safety net of silver and gold for Syndil’s spirit to wrap itself in. The tone was so pure that the undead, without soul, wholly evil as he was, found the voice diminishing his immense skills. He was unclean, and the
purity of the notes was a gentle but powerful reminder of the foul, vile path he had deliberately chosen for himself. He saw himself as clearly as if Desari were holding a mirror to his face. The long centuries showed on his face, his skin rotten and decayed, peeling from his skull in long strips. Worms crawled through his body, and the vileness of his existence was laid bare for him to see. Poison blood, taken from dying humans and Carpathians alike, dripped like acid along his skin, pitting what once had been smooth flesh; it seeped from his flame-red eyes and oozed along the talons that were his fingernails. His fetid breath was a visible hue of green and yellow, and his hideous voice was a hiss of grating sounds in such stark contrast to the purity of Desari’s beautiful voice that he pressed both hands over his ears and screamed in agony. As he did so, he lost, for one small moment, his hold on Syndil.

Immediately, as if he had been waiting for just such a reaction, Barack’s grip on Syndil became more firm, his spirit so completely merged with hers that he felt her horror of the attack. It encompassed her mind, filled her with self-loathing. She believed she had somehow drawn the evil to her, that she was endangering the rest of her family by staying with them.

Julian felt the sudden hesitation in Desari, the small cry of denial as Syndil made an attempt to slip away from Barack. The Carpathian male, so much more easygoing than any Julian had ever met, suddenly displayed a will of iron. Syndil came up against the solid barrier of Barack’s will.

The vampire roared his anger, the sound in competition with the cracking of thunder. Barack held fast. There was a quiet confidence in him. Syndil would not be taken from them. He was willing to die should it be necessary to prevent such a thing. The moment she felt
his total resolve, Syndil once again threw her strength in with Barack and Desari’s, moving backward slowly but steadily toward her body.

The bird watched the ground carefully now, could see the upheaval as the struggle intensified between the vampire’s vicious resolve and Barack, Desari, and Syndil’s stand. Movement caught the bird’s eye as Darius reached the epicenter of the trap. At once the wind picked up in strength, wailing in protest as the circling ghouls moaned and clacked their branch-stick arms together in an old, rhythmic beat accompanying their chant. Darius stopped moving and raised his head slowly toward the sky, his arms wide-spread, as if offering himself to the distorted shadows. He stood in complete stillness, a marble figure without expression. The ghouls’ voices rose horribly, the sound grating on nerves and tearing at the Carpathian’s mind.

The ancient chant, which had been muffled before, now was audible to Julian, and he could understand the words. He had known deep within his soul what they were trying to do, but hearing the binding spell, seeing the shadowed figures closing the ring tighter and tighter around Darius, dismayed him. He had no real idea of Darius’s understanding of the language or what the words could evoke. Darius did not seem in the least concerned with what the undead had wrought to slay him. He looked serene, completely at peace, and it instilled in Julian a new respect and deeper belief in De-sari’s brother’s abilities.

When the attack came, it was preceded by a sudden chilling silence. The robed shadows with their sunken pits for eyes went motionless and silent, their upraised branches growing sharpened points, several knives protruding from each stump. Darius remained as still as a statue, the wind whipping his ebony hair around his
face. He stood as straight as an arrow, his broad shoulders like an ax handle, his powerful body radiating strength and elegance.

Julian actually felt the gathering of power in the air. It vibrated around him. Below, the ghouls began their rush at Darius. Near the motionless bodies of Syndil and Barack, the ground swelled until it bulged ominously. Julian began his descent, forcing his mind to stay focused on his own battle. When it struck, the strength of the attack was enormous. For a moment Julian couldn’t breathe, his lungs fighting for air, so that it was only his tremendous discipline that allowed him to remain calm. In the next heartbeat he realized the attack was directed at Desari. The undead had bypassed Syndil and Barack to trace Desari’s beautiful voice back to the source. He was striking directly at her, projecting his will to choke the life out of the source of that voice.
The vampire knew her through Julian. He had betrayed his own lifemate.

The ugliness, the shame, the horror of that childhood moment rose up to engulf him, so that for one moment he was a boy again facing an utterly terrifying monster. The vampire had whispered to him for over five hundred years, whispered of using him to harm those he was loyal to. His Prince. His twin. His lifemate, should he ever have one. Julian had studied, experimented, battled hundreds of years to prepare himself for this moment, certain he could protect those around him from the eyes of the shadow within him. But he had betrayed his beloved Desari.

No!
Desari reached for him, her fear choking her but her warmth invading the coldness of his bones, of that terrible haunting moment that had changed his life for all time and driven him to a barren, lonely existence.
He found
you
through
me
! It is but a trick. Keep to your duty. Ignore the undead’s grip on me.

Every instinct in him cried out that that was illogical. He knew he had felt her panic, her throat closing. His mind was still partially merged with hers, and his body was so tuned to hers that he shared her pain and fear. But could what she said be the truth?

As her lifemate, his entire being, every nerve, muscle, and sinew in him screamed at him to go to her, to aid her, to join his strength with hers. He agonized over it for what seemed an eternity yet was but a heartbeat. He had waited for this moment, prepared for this moment, for centuries. He did the most difficult thing he had ever done. He closed his mind solidly to his lifemate.