Dark Nights (39 page)
B
efore another sound could escape from Sara, Falcon’s hand covered her mouth gently in warning. Sara didn’t need his caution; she already knew. Her enemy had found her once again. “You have to get out of here,” she hissed softly against his palm.
Falcon bent his head so that his mouth was touching her ear. “I am a hunter of the undead, Sara. I do not run from them.” The taste of her was still in his mouth, in his mind. She was a part of him, inseparable now.
She tipped her head back to stare up at him, wincing as the wind howled and shrieked with enough force to cause small tornadoes in the street and yard, throwing loose paper, leaves, and twigs into the air in a rush of anger. “Are you any good at killing these things?” She asked it with a hint of disbelief. There was a challenge in her voice. “I need to know the truth.”
For the first time that he could remember, Falcon felt like smiling. It was unexpected in the midst of the vampire’s arrival, but the doubt in her voice made him want to laugh. “He is sending out his threat ahead of him. You have angered him. You have a built-in shield, a rare thing. He cannot find you when he scans, so he is looking for an awareness, a surge of fear that will tell him you know who he is. That is how he tracks you. I will send my answer to him so he is aware that you are under my protection.”
“No!” She caught his arm with suddenly tense fingers. “This is it, our chance. If he doesn’t know about you, then he will come for me. We can lay a trap for him.”
“I do not need to use you as bait.” His voice was very mild, but there was a hint of some unnamed emotion that made her shiver. Falcon was unfailingly gentle with her, his tone always soft and low, his touch tender. But there was something deep inside him that was terribly dangerous and very dark.
Sara found herself shivering, but she tightened her hold on him, afraid that if he went into the raging storm he would be lost to her. “It’s the best way. He’ll come for me; he always comes for me.” Already her bond with Falcon was so strong, she couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to him. She must protect him from the terrible thing that had destroyed her family.
“Not tonight. Tonight I’ll go after him.” Falcon put her from him gently. He could clearly see her fears and her fierce need to be sure that he was safe. She had no concept of what he was, of the thousands of battles he had fought with these very monsters: Carpathian males who had waited too long, or who had chosen to give up their souls for the fleeting momentary pleasure of the kill. His brethren.
Sara caught his arm. “No, don’t go out there.” There was a catch in her voice. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. I know he’s here, and for the first time, I’m not alone.”
He leaned down to capture her soft mouth with his. At once there was that melting sensation, the promise of silken heat and ecstasy he had never dared to dream about. “You are worried about my safety and seek ways to keep me with you.” He said the words softly against her lips. “I dwell within you now; we are able to share thoughts with one another. This is my life, Sara; this is what I do. I have no choice but to go. I am a male Carpathian sent by the Prince of my people into the world to protect others from these creatures. I am a hunter. It is the only honor I have left.”
There was that aching loneliness in his voice. She had been alone for fifteen years. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be alone for as long as he had been. Watching endless time go by, the changes in the world, without hope or refuge. Sentenced to destroying his own kind, perhaps even friends.
Honor.
That word had been used often in his diary. She saw the implacable resolve in him, the intensity that swirled dangerously close to the surface of his calm. Nothing she could say would stop him.
Sara sighed softly and nodded. “I think there is much more in you to honor than just your abilities as a hunter, but I understand. There are things I must do that I don’t always want to, but I know I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do them.” She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her body close to his. For one moment she was no longer alone in the world. He was solid and safe. “Don’t let him harm you. He’s managed to destroy everyone I care about.”
Falcon held her, his arms cradling her body, every cell needing her. It was madness to hunt when he was so close to turning and the ritual had not been completed, but he had no choice. The wind beat at the window, the branches of trees sweeping against the house in a kind of fury. “I will be back soon, Sara,” he assured her softly.
“Let me go with you,” she said suddenly. “I’ve faced him before.”
Falcon smiled. His soul smiled. She was beautiful to him, nearly unbelievable. Ready to face the monster right beside him. He bent once more and found her mouth with his. A promise. He made it that. A promise of life and happiness. And then he was gone, wrenching open the door while he still could, while his honor was strong enough to overcome the needs of his body. He simply dissolved into mist, mixing with the rain for camouflage, and streamed through the night air, away from the shelter and temptation of her body and heart.
Sara stepped out onto the porch after him, still blinking, unsure where he had gone, it had happened so quickly. “Falcon!” His name was a cry wrenched from her soul. The wind whipped her hair into a frenzy. The rain doused her clothes until the silk was nearly transparent. She was utterly alone again.
You will never be alone again, Sara. I dwell within you as you are within me. Speak to me; use your mind, and I will hear you.
She held her breath. It was impossible. She felt a flood of relief and sagged against the column of her porch for support. She didn’t question how his voice could be in her mind, clear and perfect and sexy. She accepted it because she needed it so desperately. She jammed her fist in her mouth to stop herself from calling him back to her, forgetting for a moment that he must be reading her thoughts.
Falcon laughed softly, his voice a drawling caress.
You are an amazing woman, Sara. Even to be able to translate my letters to you. I wrote them in several languages. Greek, Hebrew. The ancient tongue. How did you accomplish such a feat?
He was traveling swiftly across the night sky, scanning carefully, looking for disturbances that would signal the arrival of the undead. Sometimes blank spaces revealed the vampire’s lair. Other times it would be a surge of power or an unexpected exodus of bats from a cave. The smallest detail could provide clues to one who knew where to look.
Sara was silent a moment, turning the question over in her mind. She had been obsessed with translating the strange documents wrapped so carefully in oilskin. Perseverance. She had
needed
to translate those words. Sacred words. She remembered the feeling she had each time she touched those scrolled pages. Her heart had beat faster, her body had come to life, her fingers had smoothed over the fibers more times than she wanted to count. She had known that those words were meant for her. And she had seen his face. His eyes, the shape of his jaw, the long flow of his hair. The aching loneliness in him. She had known that only she would find the right translation.
My parents taught me Greek and Hebrew and most of the ancient languages, but I had never seen some of the letters and symbols before. I went to several museums and all the universities, but I didn’t want to show the diary to anyone else. I believed it was meant for me.
She had known that the words were intimate, meant only for her eyes. There had been poetry in those words before she had ever translated them. Sara felt tears gathering in her eyes. Falcon. She knew his name now, had looked into his eyes, and she knew he needed her. No one else. Just Sara.
I studied the diary for several months, translated what I could, but I knew it wasn’t right, word for word. And then it just came to me. I felt when it was right. I can’t explain how, but I knew the moment I hit on the key.
Falcon felt the curious wrenching in his heart. She could make his soul flood with warmth, overwhelming him with such intense feeling that he was no longer the powerful predator but a man willing to do anything for his lifemate. She humbled him with her generosity and her acceptance of what he was. He had written those words, expressing emotions he could no longer feel. Writing the diary was a compulsion he couldn’t ignore. He had never expected anyone to read it, yet he had never destroyed it, unable to do so.
Dawn was a couple of hours away and the vampire would still be lethal. More than likely he was searching for lairs, escape routes, gathering information. Falcon had hunted and successfully battled the vampire for centuries, yet he was growing distinctly uneasy. He should have picked up a trail, yet there were none of the usual signs to indicate the undead had passed over the city. Few of the creatures could achieve such a feat; only a very powerful ancient enemy would have such skills.
You are my heart and soul, Sara. The words I left for you are truth, and only my lifemate would know how to find the key to unlock the code to translate the ancient language.
His tone held admiration and an intensity of love that wrapped her in warmth.
I must concentrate on the hunt. This one is no fledgling vampire, but one of power and strength. It requires my full attention. Should you have need of me, reach with your mind and I will hear you.
Sara crossed her arms across her breasts, moving back onto her porch, watching the sheets of rain falling in silvery threads. She felt Falcon’s uneasiness more than heard it in his tone.
If you need me, I will come to you.
She meant it. Meant it with every cell in her body. It felt wrong to have Falcon going alone to fight her battles.
Falcon’s heart lightened. She would rush to his aid if he called her. Their tie was already strong, and growing with each passing moment. Sara represented the miracle granted to his species.
Lifemate.
He was cautious as he moved across the sky, using the storm as his cover. He was adept, able to shield his presence easily. He began surveying the areas most likely to harbor the undead. Within the city, it would be the deserted older buildings with basements. Outside of the city, it would be any cave, any hole in the ground the ancient vampire could protect.
Falcon found no traces of the enemy, but the uneasiness in him began to grow. The vampire would have already attacked Sara if he had known for certain where she was. Obviously, he had vented his rage because he
hadn’t
found her, and he had hoped to frighten her into betraying her presence. That left one other avenue open to Falcon. He would have to find the vampire’s kill and trace him from there. It would be a painstakingly slow process and he would have to leave Sara alone for some time. He reached for her.
If you feel uneasy, call for me at once. Anything at all, Sara, call for me.
He felt her smile.
I have been aware of this enemy for half my life. I know when he is close, and I have managed to escape him time after time. You take care of yourself, Falcon, and don’t worry about me.
Sara had been alone a long time and was an independent, self-sufficient woman. She was far more worried about Falcon than she was about herself.
The rain was still pouring down, the wind blowing the droplets into dismal heavy sheets. Falcon felt no cold in the form he had taken. Had he been in his natural body, he would have regulated his body temperature with ease. The storm was a deterrent to seeking his enemy by using scent, but he knew the ways of the vampire. He found the kill unerringly.
The body was in an alleyway, not far from where Sara’s sewer children had rushed Falcon. His uneasiness grew. The vampire obviously had become adept at finding Sara. There was a pattern to her behavior, and the undead capitalized on it. Once he found the country and the city she had settled in, the vampire would go to the places where Sara would eventually go. The refuges of the lost, the homeless, the unwanted children and battered women. Sara would work in those areas to accomplish what she could before she moved on. Money meant little to her; it was only a means to keep moving and to do what she could to help. She lived frugally and spent little on herself. Just as Falcon had studied vampires to learn their ways, this vampire had studied Sara. Yet she had continued to elude him. Most vampires were not known for their patience, yet this one had followed Sara relentlessly for fifteen years.
It was a miracle that she had managed to avoid capture, a tribute to her courageous and resourceful nature. Falcon’s frame shimmered and solidified in the dreary rain beside the dead man. The vampire’s victim had died hard. Falcon studied the corpse, careful not to touch anything. He wanted the scent of the undead, the feel of him. The victim was young, a street punk. There was a knife on the ground with blood on the blade. Falcon could see the blade was already corroding. The man had been tortured, most likely for information about Sara. The vampire would want to know if she had been seen in the area. The echoes of violence were all around Falcon.
He couldn’t allow the evidence to remain for the police. He sighed softly and began to summon the energy in the sky above him. Bolts of lightning danced brightly, throwing the alley into sharp relief. The whips sizzled and crackled, white-hot. He directed the energy to the body and the knife. It incinerated the victim to fine ashes and cleansed the blade before melting it.
The flare of power was all around him as the lightning burned like an orange flame from the ground back up to the dark, ominous clouds, where it veined out in radiant points of blue-white heat. Falcon suddenly raised his head and looked around him, realizing that the power vibrating in the air was not his alone. He leaped back, away from the ashes as the blackened ruins came to life. An apparition of horror rose up with a misshapen head and pitiless holes for eyes.
Falcon whirled, a fraction of a second too late, to meet the real attack. A claw missed his eye and raked his temple. Razor-sharp tips dug four long furrows into his chest. The pain was excruciating. Hot, fetid breath exploded in his face and he smelled rotting flesh, but the creature was a blur, disappearing as Falcon struck instinctively toward the heart.
