Dark Demon (22 page)

I can't make myself leave my father.

She couldn't find her way back. She was too exhausted, too tired of being alone. Her father and mother and Razvan were all here, in this place. She could stay with them, be with them. So many years had gone by with her moving from country to country with no one to talk to, no one to share with. What awaited her but endless loneliness if she returned?

It is another lure, Natalya, an attempt to cloud your thinking. You belong with me. Your father would not want you trapped here with him. You cannot save him. What was done cannot be undone. Come with me
, ainaak enyém,
merge and become one with me
. Vikirnoff used every art he possessed. Beguiling her. Compulsion. Seduction. Commanding—all wrapped together in his softly spoken words, dragging her back up the strands of time through the sheer strength of character and will he had come to possess over so many centuries.

She heard a roar of fury as she moved away from her father and his tormenter, from the tearing claws of the smaller dark shadows, climbing ever higher. The shadows streaked after her, reaching with hands and claws in an attempt to stop her and as she approached her own time, dazzling white orbs spun and beckoned, attempting to lure her with glimpses of the future.

Natalya clung tighter to Vikirnoff, crawling deeper into his mind where she knew she would be safe. Vikirnoff would never abandon her. She closed her mind to the all too-vivid memory of her father's tortured death and embraced life in her own time, whatever that might be. She didn't need to stay in the past. She chose the here and now.

Natalya found herself back in her own body, so weak she would have collapsed onto the floor of the ice cave if Vikirnoff hadn't caught her to him. They clung to one another, Natalya shuddering violently and Vikirnoff trembling with the knowledge he'd nearly lost her.

Tears poured down her face. "My father." She could barely get the words out, her throat was so raw with grief. "He was tortured."

"I know,
ainaak enyém.'"
His voice was tender as he stroked her hair, seeking a way to comfort her. "I am so sorry." She hadn't just seen her father's torture; she had experienced it. "I would give anything to prevent you having to go through that." He framed her face with his hands and kissed her tears away.

Natalya looked up at his face, the smears of blood on his forehead, the tracks of blood-red tears on his face. He'd shared the same experience and he'd also shared her wild grief and outrage. She wiped his brow with gentle fingers, touched the tear tracks and leaned into him. "Thank you for being with me."

"Always, Natalya." All the while he was comforting her, he was aware that the boom of the water had grown frantic, so loud the ice chamber shook. He eyed the rusty pool that was growing with each drop, not deeper, but spreading out like a giant stain. "We have to leave this place now, Natalya." Attacking the pool without knowing what he faced in a cavern full of magick could be suicide.

She took a breath, her fingers digging into his arm for support. "I have to find the knife. You saw it. You were in my mind. I have to get the knife." She glanced around the ice chamber. "The alcove has a huge cache of weapons. It's the most likely place."

"You have got to hurry. The vampires are nearly on us. We are going to have to fight our way out of here," he cautioned.

He clamped down hard against his natural protective instincts to snatch her up and get her away from danger. He was beginning to realize having a lifemate was difficult. Living with her wasn't about what he wanted, or even needed. Being a lifemate was about supporting Natalya even when everything in him wanted something else. Her personality required a certain amount of freedom and it didn't always matter what he deemed best.

He knew she had to complete this task. And now, when it was apparent her father had been tortured and murdered, it was more important than ever. He guarded her back, moving with her across the floor of ice, eyes scanning the great chamber.

"My heart is beginning to beat with the same rhythm as the water dripping," Natalya confided in a whisper. "And that's just freaky." She kept her gaze fixed on the small alcove containing the cache of weapons. She knew the vampires were close. The dragon on her body seemed to be burning a hole through her skin.

"My heart is doing the same thing, Natalya," Vikirnoff said. "And when I pulled you away from the shadows, the bubbling in that puddle took on an entire new meaning."

Natalya glanced at the thick rusty puddle. "It looks like a witches brew." Her gaze went right back to the weapons, drawn by something outside of herself. Her breath caught in her lungs and she stopped abruptly. "I see the knife."

"Can you get to it?"

"Yes, but doubt I'll just be able to grab the thing."

Vikirnoff shifted his attention to the west wall down near the floor where the ice was melting at an alarming rate. Insects poured into the chamber, a mass exodus of crickets and beetles and every cave-dwelling bug imaginable. "We are going to have company any minute, Natalya, do what you have to do and let us leave this place." He positioned himself between his lifemate and the rapidly melting ice.

"Keep them off of me for a few minutes," she replied. "I have to figure this out." Unlocking the safeguards around the ceremonial knife required concentration, something difficult when the steady drip of the water was echoing through her brain and jangling every nerve. Even her blood seemed to jump as each drop fell into the ever-widening puddle. The insects would have been a terrible distraction, but they were rushing through the chamber to get away from something far worse following them.

Natalya moved her hands in a complicated pattern, murmuring a simple uncloaking spell her father had taught her in her early childhood. Knowing her father had drawn her to the cave made it easier to solve the puzzles. He would use safeguards specific to her. And the uncloaking spell was one of the things she recalled from her earliest memory of him. The invisible barrier shimmered into view. She studied it from every angle.

Vikirnoff hissed a soft warning to Natalya as mud and water burst through the west wall, spilling onto the floor carrying a wiggling mass of spike-toothed serpentine creatures. Right behind them Arturo and a second vampire stepped into the ice chamber. As if sensing the presence of fellow evil, the rusty puddle on the floor of the cavern erupted into a boiling mass of noxious, thick bubbles.

Vikirnoff whirled into motion, calling on fire, fashioning a whip of flames to snap at the serpents racing toward Natalya. The fire whip whistled through the air, a dazzling orange-red messenger of death, lashing the creatures in a display of expertise. The smell of burning flesh added to the putrid brew of the puddle.

You don't believe in niceties, do you
? Natalya asked.

Get it done. More are coming.

Natalya forced her attention back to the barrier. Vikirnoff had dealt with the snakes in a rather spectacular and efficient way. After sharing such a deep mind merge with him, she had absolute faith that he'd hold off the vampires until she had what she'd come for. There was no give in Vikirnoff. He'd fight for her with his last dying breath. As strong as the compulsion was for her to complete her task, his protective instincts were stronger. If necessary, he would get her to her safety.

Natalya took a deep, calming breath and let it out, focusing wholly on the box the uncloaking spell had revealed. The box seemed solid. A transparent rectangle surrounding the knife. Cautiously, she put her palm close to it. Heat and power blasted her skin and she hastily pulled her hand back.

Vikirnoff cracked the flaming whip at the vampire Arturo had thrust in front of him. The whip curled around the lesser vampire's neck and as Vikirnoff tugged hard, the whip dragged him closer.

The vampire screamed, the high-pitched sound shattering several stalactites so that they dropped like spears from the ceiling, straight at Vikirnoff. He dissolved, throwing up a hasty shield around Natalya as he streamed past the lesser vampire and went straight for Arturo, shifting back into his natural form immediately.

"Get the woman, Cezar!" Arturo ordered, stumbling backward at the sudden attack.

Natalya felt the protective cloak surround her on three sides and sent up a small prayer of thanks that Vikirnoff, in his haste, hadn't closed her off from the knife. She pressed her palms together tightly, raised them in ceremony, murmured a short, but powerful spell of protection and pointed her fingers straight at the exact middle of the box. With her hands pressed tightly together, she pushed forward resolutely, straight into the center of the barricade, pulling her hands apart as she did so to part the obstruction and allow her access to the ceremonial knife. She felt the incredible heat close around her, but the protection spell held and she reached for the gem-studded handle.

Vikirnoff drove his fist straight through Arturo's chest, slamming hard, fingers going through the bony shield toward the shriveled heart. The vampire howled, bent his head and sank his teeth into Vikirnoff's neck, slicing through skin and tissue, artery and nerves. Vikirnoff grasped the blackened heart, ripping it from the vampire's chest just as Natalya gripped the ceremonial knife.

The moment Natalya's fingers settled around the handle, she felt the walls of time shape and curve. She knew at once she'd made a terrible mistake. She should never have touched the object without a barrier between it and her skin.
Vikirnoff. Link with me now! Help me. Merge with me
. She screamed for his help telepathically as she was sucked down—deep into the violent past of the knife.

Vikirnoff merged his mind deep into hers. His spirit ripped through the curving tunnels with her, his mind divided in both the past and the present. Having the presence of mind to keep a grip on the vampire's heart, he dragged his fist from the evil one's chest and flung it onto the floor. To his astonishment, the organ flopped, not toward Arturo, but toward the bubbling rusty puddle.

Arturo's scream was one of rage and pain. He leapt across the room toward the rolling heart, calling it back, his commands going unheeded. As Arturo fell to the ground and clawed his way across the ice in search of his heart, Vikirnoff slammed the flaming whip directly across the path leading to the puddle. The heart ran right into the dancing flames just as Arturo's hand slammed over the top of it.

You may kill me Xavier, but you will never destroy my people. My blood may run in the veins of my children, but it will not provide you with the immortality you seek.

Vikirnoff whirled around shocked to hear the voice of Rhiannon of the Dragonseekers. It was so clear, so real, he expected to see her standing behind him. It took a moment to realize he was sharing the past with Natalya.

Arturo took advantage, dragging his burned hand from the flames and gleefully restoring his heart to his chest. Blood was pouring down both the front of the vampire, and Vikirnoff's neck. Arturo reached out and smeared the ancient hunter's blood on his hand and licked at it. "You should have joined us. Your prince is injured, his hunter in the ground, nearly dead and now you and your woman will die."

Vikirnoff was already in motion, whirling away from the attack as both vampires rushed him. Blood loss weakened him and it was disorienting to be in two places at one time. They needed help and other Carpathians in the vicinity should have felt the presence of evil. He had wondered why Mikhail Dubrinksy, the prince of the Carpathians had not come to their aid in the earlier battle with the vampires. Vikirnoff could only think Mikhail must have been injured and in the ground not to have felt the battle in the forest.

Cezar slammed into the protective barrier shielding Natalya. He clawed at the shield with sharp talons, then crawled up the side of the ice cave, his body shifting into the form of a dark furred creature with talons and a spiked tail. He launched himself at Vikirnoff as Arturo's body contorted, his face elongating into the muzzle of a wolf.

Natalya. Drop the knife now.

Vikirnoff's voice was steady, but she caught the underlying sense of urgency. Natalya wanted to let go. She tried to open her fingers, but it was impossible. The aftermath of violence attached to objects always trapped her for a time. The more violence the object held, the more difficult it was to escape. The ceremonial knife had been used often.
Xavier was trying to gain immortality by consuming Rhiannon's blood
.

It was impossible to look away from the scene. Her grandmother was beautiful in spite of the bruises darkening her too-pale skin. She lay paralyzed, bound by not only powerful spells, but some type of poison Xavier had used to hold her prisoner. Tubes ran from Rhiannon's body, draining blood from her, just as Natalya's father had been drained. The same shadowy figure approached the bed, knife gripped in hand.

"I no longer need you, my dear. You have served your purpose and have given me a son and two females to take your place. Your blood runs in their veins. I will use the females' blood and allow my son to give me grandchildren that I might continue to live." He laughed, the sound evil even as it traveled through time. "You will never know them and they will never know you. Go now, join your precious lifemate."

Rhiannon smiled. "My children know me, even as babes, they know me."