Dark Challenge (38 page)

Julian plunged straight toward the bulge in the soil, moving relentlessly toward the two helpless bodies. The undead had no choice when he realized his attempt to distract Julian had failed. The vampire had to release his grip on Desari and remove the energy holding his trap in place so that Syndil and Barack’s spirits were free to return to their own bodies. He needed every vestige of power he had to fight the hunter. His merciless enemy. The enemy he had created.

He had sensed Julian’s presence only when he had traced the source of the voice holding his prey with so much strength from him. Enraged, he had thought to destroy the woman, yet he had sensed the larger threat to him. He then recognized through her the boy he had made into a merciless, relentless solitary killer. For centuries he had tormented Julian from across time and distance. Until, one day, recently, without warning, he could no longer connect totally with the shadow within Savage. The boy had become far stronger than the vampire had imagined. Now he knew he had no option but to destroy Julian, or at least seriously wound him to give himself time to escape. For the first time in hundreds of years, he felt something close to fear.

The leader of the group was engaged in battle with his ghouls, but the ghouls’ movements were directed by him. If he had to withdraw from them, Darius would certainly triumph and join this new threat to destroy him. With a vulgar cry of rage, the undead burst from beneath the earth, flying straight toward Julian with daggerlike talons stretching toward his enemy’s eyes.

Julian was shape-shifting as he closed the distance to the vampire. He stretched into a long, scaled serpentine creature shooting out of reach of the talons and breathing a burst of flames over the half-man half-beast rushing toward him.

The vampire screamed as the fire poured over him, withering the twisted talons back into curled fingernails stained and blackened with the blood of his many victims. The undead whirled in midair and slashed at Julian’s exposed chest.

Desari felt the touch of unclean hands wrapped around her throat. As the hideous grip tightened, she felt the shock of the monster’s discovery. This was the ancient, the undead who had destroyed Julian’s childhood. Whatever this evil thing had wanted before, it now wanted to destroy her lifemate. Focused on capturing the weakened Syndil, and busy studying the family unit, it had not even known that Julian was close until it had touched her.

The moment
Nosferatu
had traced Desari’s voice back to her, he had scented Julian as surely as if he had been standing beside her. She was angry with herself for not masking Julian’s presence in her mind or his scent on her body. She was certainly skilled enough to accomplish such a minor thing; she just hadn’t thought of it. In all their talks of partnership, she always acknowledged Julian the superior in battle, yet she had considered herself up to whatever was necessary. Now she was ashamed and embarrassed by her failure to protect him.

As the all too real illusion of bony fingers around her neck tightened even more, she simply stayed still, her voice not coming from her throat but from her heart, pouring out of her like a silver stream of love and compassion, of fearless strength and eternal honor. The vampire could not maintain his hold for long from a distance. Her neck began to grow warm, distracting her for a moment until she realized the undead’s fingers were being burned by the touch of her skin. Was that something Julian was doing? Desari detached herself from her body so that she would not feel the skeletal fingers attempting to choke the life out of her, attempting to silence the purity of her voice for all time.

She knew the vampire was not actually touching her. It was an illusion, one that could kill but still an illusion. Desari didn’t falter with her song, not for an instant. She kept her thoughts centered on Syndil.
Stay with me. Stay with us. I will always need you in my life. Never leave us. Do not allow your precious gift to go from this world when it is so badly needed. Stay with me, Syndil. Beloved sister, my grief would know no bounds were we to lose you. Stay with me. Fight this monster who threatens to take you from your true family. Never deprive those of us who love and respect you of your presence in our lives.

The notes of the music said even more than the words. They sang of deep emotion, of loving. They sang of compassion and understanding, of a need so great, of love that could never be shaken, the complete, unconditional love of a sister.

The notes and the emotion ensnared Syndil as nothing else could have. Syndil’s guilt was overwhelming her, filling her gentle soul until her heart cried droplets of ruby-red blood. She believed she had somehow summoned this demon, this vampire who was determined to
destroy her entire family. If she gave herself to him, if she sacrificed the rest of her life, perhaps she could save them. He was continually pulling at her, feeding her guilt. He was confusing her mind so that she didn’t know what was real and what he had wrought with his trap. Had her soul cried out to his, begged him to find her, to release her from her endless existence, as he was insisting?

No!
That was Barack. There was something different in him these days. He had denied a sibling relationship with her, ordered her around as if he had the right and she had not earned her place within their family unit. Yet he had put his life on the line, fighting one of the undead when it had come for her, wanting her to join its ranks of filth and vileness. Even now, Barack was not allowing this evil one to take her.

The voice in Syndil’s head softened almost to the point of tenderness. A falsehood, she was certain. Barack could inject anything into his voice and his sensual features, make any woman believe he could care. But he was an ancient one, one who could not really feel anything.
You have done nothing to draw this evil one to you, Syndil. There is no evil in you, no wickedness. You are the light in our lives, as is Desari. Without you, there is no existence. I will not allow him to take you from us, from me. Know this, woman: if you do not stand with me, merge completely and allow our combined strength to fight his hold on you, then I will follow wherever he takes you and battle to the death for your return.

There was such resolve in Barack’s voice, Syndil could do no other than believe him. Yet merging her mind so completely would open to Barack every memory she kept locked away even from herself. She would never be able to look at him again, to face him, knowing he had seen the attack Savon had made on her body. He
would know her every thought. The humiliation and fear. The degradation. Even worse, he would know her secret, innermost thoughts, the ones she withheld even from herself. A low moan escaped, and she felt the vampire tighten his hold. This she could not do. Not for any of them, not even her beloved Desari. She could not allow herself or Barack to read those secret desires and needs.

Barack struck without warning, going from passive restraint to swift and immediate action. His mind thrust itself into hers, taking possession of her as surely as if he had claimed her body for his own. Syndil found she could not resist him, whether because she was just too drained by the energy she had expended healing the earth or because she was helpless before the determination, the single-mindedness of Barack. Perhaps all along he had been far more powerful than she had imagined. Whatever the reason, he meant exactly what he had threatened. He would follow her wherever she went and fight to the death to return her to their family unit. He would never give her up to the evil one. Syndil finally took the least line of resistance and threw her strength in with his.

Desari fed the two of them with her own power and voice, applying steady pressure against the hold the vampire had on Syndil. She could feel the undead’s fingers slipping from around her own throat. He could not sustain his energy in so many different directions. If he was to fight to retain Syndil within his trap, he had to release Desari. As the stranglehold lessened, Desari’s voice continued to pour out in a stream of beauty and triumph, a songbird free to roam the skies, to aid all within range of her voice.

Darius heard the silvery notes, joyous, a celebration of life. Around him, in the nearby fields and streams, he
caught the reaction of the wildlife to her voice. It swelled into the wind and was carried easily across the blackened ruins of the forest. It held the ghouls silent as they began their charge. They thought him helpless, caught in the snare of their master’s trap, the binding spell making him their prisoner, yet Desari’s voice prevented such a thing. Her notes, resounding in his head, kept him safe as nothing else could.

His sister. She had always filled him with such awe. So beautiful from the inside out. Her womanly magic, a force for good, was far more powerful than what he wielded. Because he no longer was able to feel, he held fast to his memories of her. In this battle he relied on her voice. She would not fail to hold Syndil. Her voice could do no other than torment the vampire, weakening him further.

Darius felt the earth tremble, knew the struggle the undead was having with Barack, Syndil, and Desari. He knew the precise moment the monster allowed Syndil to slip through his fingers. Darius felt the hesitation in power, the shift. As the ghouls launched their combined attack, the vampire burst through the earth’s soil in an all-out assault against Julian.

Darius waited until the last possible moment, holding himself still, arms outstretched, a seeming sacrifice to the evil one. His face was turned up to the heavens, the darkened clouds and arcing lighting, the wind whipping his jet-black hair around him. He slowly lowered his head so that his merciless eyes encompassed the rushing ghouls. Fiery flames seemed to dance in the depths of his gaze. He looked invincible, a phantom of the night, the prince of darkness, yet his outstretched hands were turned palms up toward the heavens in supplication.

The very heavens seemed to answer his silent prayer, opening the gates so that a flood of water poured down
as if a dam had broken. Through the sheets of rain ran bolts of electricity that never seemed to seek the ground. Thunder crashed and rocked the ground, deadly as any earthquake. Seams burst open in the earth, ragged tears that allowed the water to rush along like ever-swelling rivers. The ghouls had reached the very epicenter of their master’s trap, their stick arms reaching to gore Darius with so many knives, yet Darius was already gone from the center of their ghastly circle. Only the sheets of water were there to pour over the wailing creatures.

Steam rose from the thin, robed figures, hissing as it released the caricatures from their bondage. Black smoke melded with the white steam, the putrid mixture rising as vapor and dissipating. Darius didn’t wait to see the results of his handiwork; he was already rocketing toward the two beasts in battle, one darkly evil, one a golden warrior, slashing at one another in the sky.

The vampire, raging at the destruction of his plan, ripped at Julian’s chest with razor-sharp talons, hissing hideously, spewing tainted saliva along with his wrath. He screamed his disappointment as Julian somehow miraculously twisted away from his attack, the daggerlike claws missing by a millimeter. Julian was already maneuvering around for his strike. A raging vampire was a careless one. Julian shut out all thought, all reason, all emotion. His attack was swift and brutal, scoring long furrows across the unprotected belly so that blood began to run freely in four streams. Julian moved out of the line of assault, circling.

Darius exploded into the battle, his retaliation vicious and without mercy or fear. He drove in straight for the kill. His challenge was clear. The undead could elect to stand and fight, but either way, Julian or Darius would destroy him. It was kill or be killed. If Julian and Darius were inflicted with mortal wounds, so be it. The vampire
would die with them. There were no half measures in either hunter, no pity or mercy. This ancient menace had dared to challenge them. He would be destroyed.

The vampire had not lived as many centuries as he had by tempting certain death. He might be victorious against one experienced hunter, but not both. He had lost his advantage. He dissolved as quickly as he was able, streaking away through the rain-washed sky, using the storm to hide the traces of his passing.

Julian immediately mind-merged with Desari to ensure she was fine. Even as he assured himself that she had come to no harm, he was trailing the vampire, using the droplets of blood to stay on the trail. The storm was diluting the poisonous brew, but Julian would know that scent anywhere. The stench was in his own blood, his soul, in the dark shadowing that had robbed him of his twin, his family and people. The undead had long tormented him, but now had committed an unpardonable sin, had attempted to harm his lifemate. As far as Julian was concerned, there was no other choice but to destroy him. His entire life’s training had been for this moment.

Darius, too, was moving so quickly through the sky that he was a mere blur. He had no intention of allowing this vampire to go free. This evil one had challenged his ability to guard his family, and he was more than willing to pick up the gauntlet. The blood was almost impossible to trace now, so Darius allowed the fury of the storm to wane. The stick figures below were annihilated, the rain dissipating the dark shadows to vapor. Syndil’s healing art did the rest, prevailing against what the undead had wrought against nature and the earth. Syndil called forth the energy of the universe and the being they revered as the father of all life. Already new life was struggling to take hold, small buds pushing through the soil, seeking the moisture of the storm.

Darius had the foul stench of the monster in his nostrils and was prepared to follow him all the way back to his lair.

Back off, Darius. This is no amateur. Do not follow him to his lair. He will be far stronger there
.

Darius did not acknowledge Julian’s softly spoken advice. He streaked through the sky after the fading trail of droplets. Julian swore beneath his breath in several languages, knowing full well that Darius could hear him. He had no choice but to allow the family leader to accompany him. The vampire might flee to avoid this confrontation, but if cornered, he would be extremely dangerous. Julian knew this vampire more intimately than most, knew him to be an ancient of great power. And ancients were never easy to destroy.