Dark Peril (7 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Romance, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Occult fiction, #Horror, #Occult & Supernatural, #South America, #Vampires, #Fiction, #Shapeshifting, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #General

BOOK: Dark Peril
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I am destroyed if you leave me.
Her voice filled his mind, the tones soft and so achingly familiar. Why hadn’t he considered that she was real? She’d been in front of him the entire time and he hadn’t realized it.

A thousand years he’d walked the earth looking for her.
Lifemate.
He could taste the word in his mouth, feel it in his soul. He’d been alone for so long, walking an honorable path, one he had chosen, but he had wanted her—no,
needed
her. The darkness called to his soul. A thousand men, many his friends and kin, had seen their death at his hands. There had been no solace, nowhere to turn, only the memory of honor and the fading hope that she would come to him.

How many times had he walked the night in need?
Save me.
He had thought himself insane at times. The haunting loneliness, the call of evil always pulling at him, that need to feel
something
—anything—was so overwhelming as the endless years stretched out in relentless isolation.

I need you.
The anguish in her voice tore at him.

What had he done?
Given up
. He’d lost all hope and he’d taken steps to leave the world while his honor was still intact. The decision had been couched in nobility, a fitting way for a Dragonseeker to end his existence, but it was still an act of cowardice. He had reached a point when he knew he was far too close to the darkness, the need for feeling so strong it was taking root even in his strong bloodline. He didn’t want to risk being the first Dragonseeker to ever succumb to the call of the vampire. He had refused to take the chance of giving up his soul, and in doing so, when the risk was becoming sharp and agonizing, he had made the decision to end his days.

Stay. Stay with me.
Her anguish clawed at him.

How did he tell her it was too late? He covered his face with his hand, wept bloodred tears. His decision to ingest the vampire blood and end his life had cost him this one last shred of a dream. Worse, it had cost her. His woman. So strong, yet so fragile. What had he done? He had betrayed her as every other male had done in her life.

He knew her—he knew her most intimate fears. Her thoughts. She had told him, but he hadn’t listened, not as a lifemate. He should have known, but he’d given up, despaired, turned his back on the most important person in his life.

It was not betrayal.

Resignation tinged her tone. Acceptance. That hurt almost as much as knowing he had given up on finding her. The moment he had the first strange dream, a waking dream, he should have renewed his efforts to find her. Unlike the younger Carpathians, he had heard the strange tales some of the elders had told of how the call of lifemates could be heard over great distances and could manifest itself in a variety of strange ways. He had fallen into the trap so many of his kind had without realizing it. He had lost hope, and that had left him open and vulnerable to the temptation of the vampire. She didn’t call it betrayal, but to him, a man of honor, when honor was all he had, it was the worst sin he could have committed.

Perhaps another could not understand. I have given up hope many times. When all we have is honor, when we stand alone against such horrors as we’ve seen, sometimes despair is all that is left to us.

She shamed him and yet made him proud. A woman to stand by his side. She knew what he had done. He had told her. She knew what a Carpathian was, what could happen should he stray, even for a moment, from the path. And she had to know what it meant when he’d informed her that he’d ingested the vampire blood and was going into their very camp to spy.

Around him, the rain forest had become another world. The sound of the rain was a soft rhythm, music that drummed in time to his heartbeat. Gray had become a silvery mist, incredibly beautiful, each drop a shimmering crystal prism. He felt the individual beads on his skin, and for the first time, the sensation was sensual. He opened his mouth and tasted rain, looking around him in wonder even as he opened his mind to share the precious gift she’d given him. He heard her gasp as she comprehended the enormity of their bonding. It was a sharing he had never expected to experience, and her presence heightened his body’s reaction.

He breathed deep as blood rushed to his groin, as every nerve ending in his body went on alert and his skin seemed to sizzle just with the touch of the rain. Strangely, the parasites were quiet, almost as if they’d been as mesmerized by her presence as he was. The hideous whispers in his mind ceased completely.

He allowed himself to just feel, to drink in her presence, to enjoy that moment of not being alone. They shared the same mind, and for that time, everything in him settled, was at peace. He could sense the rightness in her as well, although he knew she was horrified at the things she’d revealed to him about herself in their shared dreams. She was embarrassed that she’d been so vulnerable, that he’d seen that one side of herself she kept hidden from every other person in the world.

I feel both honored and privileged to know you so completely—to know the woman, not just the warrior.

A very male part of him rose up, dominant, protective, a hint of jealousy at the idea of another man uncovering her vulnerability. The woman belonged to him alone—as he did to her. The world could see the warrior in them both, but the man and the woman were an intimacy no other needed to know.

Above, the last of the light faded away to shadow the land in complete darkness. Everything stilled—the rain forest holding its breath. There was no wind, yet a dark cloud moved fast through the canopy, the flutter of wings loud in the stillness of the descending night.

Bats
. Dominic hissed the warning in his mind.
The undead are rising
.

From the tangled caverns formed by the finlike roots of the Kapok tree streamed thousands of tiny bats, answering the call of the
masters
. The ground erupted with ticks and armies of ants, swarming up the trees and over rocks.

They will be hungry. Shift and hide, get to safety. It is unsafe to communicate this way. Any surge in power will alert them.

He was on his feet, already moving fast, sliding into the familiar persona of a warrior unsurpassed. Being a lifemate was new to him, but this—this he knew how to do. He took to the air, streaking across the sky, a dark cloud among the dark clouds, the form of a thousand bats, all with fangs and claws, all ravenously hungry—as he was. He let his hunger amplify, heard the howling wind high above the canopy, protesting the unnatural things traveling across the sky. Any in their path would be destroyed. The animals went silent, the night predators slinking under cover. Lightning forked in the night sky, splitting it with whips of white-hot electricity. Thunder boomed, shaking the ground.

Come to me, Dominic.
There was a command in the male voice.

A deep, strong voice of authority—a man used to instant obedience. Dominic recognized the voice. It had been so long ago. They had been friends of sorts, warriors together in the old days. He had much respect for the man and his amazing fighting skills.

Zacarias. Leave this place.

I will aid you. Word was sent of what you have done. You will need every aid possible for such a task. I am to the south, an old man walking alone by the river.

Dominic felt the old camaraderie welling out of nowhere. He would die on this rising or the next and yet his lifemate had given him this powerful gift of emotion. He could feel, not just remember, how much he had enjoyed Zacarias with his quick intelligence and fierce fighting skills. He didn’t question that any vampire might mimic the oldest De La Cruz brother’s voice, the resonance was too perfect—no one could adequately portray the power of the man with just his voice alone.

It would be good to see you, old friend, but dangerous. If the five could get their hands on you, they would probably be happier than if they managed to capture the prince.
Dominic sent the warning, certain Zacarias was well aware the ones leading the vampire rising were the Malinov brothers. Once, the De La Cruz brothers and the Malinovs had been as close as family; now the Malinovs hated the De La Cruz brothers with every bit of malice and treachery their black souls could conjure up.

Do you know if the remaining brothers are here?
Dominic turned south. He did so more to protect Zacarias than for any other reason. If one of the undead spotted him, a fight would ensue. He had no doubt of Zacarias’s capabilities in a fight, but the undead seemed to be in significant numbers, and even a warrior of Zacarias’s skill could be defeated.

I have hunted them. There seem to be several lesser of the undead, newly recruited, and a few more with greater experience. I have spotted two
masters
, but neither are the Malinovs. They have targeted my brothers, Dominic. I have no choice but to hunt them.

That was Zacarias. His brothers would always come first. He cared little for his own life, but he would survive to remove any threat to his younger brothers. Which was laughable. The other four De La Cruz brothers were more than capable warriors, each highly skilled, trained by Zacarias, with the experience of thousands of battles.

The bats wheeled in the sky, a black flutter of wings as he circled closer to get a better look at the ground. Far below, walking through the trees, was an old man, bent over, using a tall walking stick, looking very vulnerable, an enticement for any self-respecting vampire. Dominic smiled to himself. Zacarias wasn’t prone to a lot of talking. He drew his enemy to him and disposed of him without fanfare or bravado.

He came to earth at a safe distance, just because prudence dictated caution in the midst of enemy territory. The old man remained a few yards from him. They studied one another. Zacarias kept the aged appearance, but there was no mistaking those piercing steel eyes. The shaggy hair was streaked with gray, but Dominic knew it was as black as a raven’s wing without the disguise.


Arwa-arvod mäne me ködak—
may your honor hold back the dark,” Dominic greeted, striding forward. He clasped Zacarias’s forearms in the age-old greeting of the highest respect between two warriors.

Zacarias gripped him hard, with remembered affection. “
Arwa-arvo olen isäntä, ekäm—
honor keep you, my brother,” he returned formally. “It has been long since I heard our language. We speak Portuguese or Spanish as a rule. Sometimes Dutch. We have to adapt to whichever country we are sweeping for vampires. It is a big continent for the five of us to patrol and the Malinovs know this.”

They stepped apart and regarded one another. Dominic smiled. “It has been too long, Zacarias.”

Zacarias nodded. “Long have I been fighting, holding on to honor. My brothers have found their lifemates and my job is nearly done.”

Dominic looked at him sharply. “You have given up all hope of a lifemate of your own.”

“I am weary of this life, Dominic,” Zacarias agreed. “And I no longer can change to suit the times. Women are different, have grown beyond all that we knew. I have lived too long as a dominant man, my word law, everything my way. The women I have observed would not be happy living under such restraints as I would put on them, nor can I be other than who I am.” He shook his head. “I cannot regret what I do not know. I am not suited to be a lifemate. Those days are long gone.”

“Do not be so hasty, old friend,” Dominic said, shaking his head. “I gave up hope and chose to give up my life for my people. It is too late, I have taken the blood and it eats me from the inside out. Soon my brain will rot, and I will have no option but to reveal myself to those I would spy upon. I will go down fighting, but I leave behind my lifemate. I found her at long last, in my last hour. Do not betray your woman as I have mine.”

There was a long silence. Zacarias’s gaze never wavered from Dominic’s face.

Dominic nodded. “I see in colors. I feel emotion.”

“And you go to the very heart of the enemy’s lair.”

“That is so. Sorrow is a heavy stone to carry,” Dominic admitted. “And guilt. I found her, yet I must leave her alone. If I claim her, she will follow me.”

Never once did Zacarias’s appearance falter. His impression of an older human was impeccable. He looked and smelled and even kept his brain, should a vampire scan, with the thoughts of a man setting up night cameras. Yet behind the façade, he was the man Dominic had known from so long ago.

“We must find a way to switch places. Infect me and then take yourself to the healers to see if they can save you.”

Dominic wanted to smile at the demand in Zacarias’s voice. Perhaps the man was right in saying he had too long been a dominant predator. There was no going backward. Their experiences shaped who and what they were and what they became. Zacarias did not belong with a modern woman. A lifemate was dedicated to making his or her other half happy. He knew only his way.

Sorrow for the man and his many lifetimes of service pressed hard on Dominic. Zacarias, as if reading Dominic’s thoughts, shrugged.

“There is no need to feel emotion for me, Dominic, as I cannot feel for myself. I am here first to retrieve a wayward family member, and second, to uncover just where the Malinovs are. Word came to me that you might need aid in your plan. My taking your place makes sense if it is indeed possible.”

Dominic frowned. “Wayward family member?” He couldn’t imagine any member of Zacarias’s family not submitting to his rule.

Zacarias inclined his head. “Solange Sangria. She is jaguar. Her cousin Juliette is lifemate to Riordan, and Juliette’s sister, Jasmine, is under the care and protection of our family. Solange is a problem, a little cat running wild. I have to admit—reluctantly—that she has my respect as a warrior, but she will be killed if she continues along the path she has chosen. Both of her cousins grieve for her and fear, as they should, for her life.”

Dominic felt his heart twist.
Solange Sangria.
The name was beautiful. The sound resonated in his soul. She was
his.
Not Zacarias’s, not his family’s; she belonged solely to Dominic. Solange Sangria was the only person—the only thing—in the entire world he wanted for himself. He held the name to him, knowing with absolute certainty that Solange was the name of his lifemate. It rang true, the heart of a warrior, her femininity hidden from the world, but there for him alone.

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