Dark Peril (22 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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He saw the second vampire step into position and knew immediately that the two undead had fought battles together before. He recognized the maneuver as one the Malinovs favored. Riordan recognized it as well. He’d fought side by side with the Malinovs for centuries. These two lesser vampires were students of one of the brothers.

Solange burst from the trees, running straight at the vampire, intercepting him before he could slam his fist into Riordan’s back. Riordan had already vanished, moving in the fog, reappearing behind the larger vampire. Solange obviously used the speed and muscle of her jaguar, hitting the vampire with the force of the large cat. He saw the vampire grunt and howl, and then his talons ripped at her shoulder and neck.

She leapt away, her arm covered up to her shoulder with black acidic blood, her own body bleeding red blood. In her claw, she held the wizened, blackened heart.

“Riordan!” she called his name and tossed the dead organ toward him.

Lightning lit up the sky and a bolt hit the heart directly, and then jumped to the vampire already crumbling into the ground. Solange didn’t have the luxury of removing the vampire blood by bathing in the white-hot energy; it would have killed her.

She raced to the river and plunged her arm into the water, rinsing. He saw the parasites exiting the wounds the vampire had torn in her skin. They should have burrowed into the lacerations, but instead they appeared to be fleeing with all possible haste. They dropped to the ground, her blood dripping over the top of them. Dominic could clearly see the tiny worms writhing, and then slowly they began to disappear, those ruby-red drops consuming them.

9

Can you come to trust a man once again?
Can you come to love an old one like me?

 

DOMINIC TO SOLANGE

 

 

 

D
ominic knew the exact moment the sun set. He’d spent centuries beneath the ground waiting for that moment when his body came to life and the soil released him back into the world. He had waited impatiently for his time to rise. Solange had turned inward, silent after her revelation. He knew she felt she had given him too much information, and more important, that she had given him a way for both of them to survive.

Solange was very intelligent. She had to have known she was handing him a key to a future, and then she’d disappeared, deep inside her jaguar, hiding from him, hiding from herself and most of all, hiding from the repercussions of her admission. Trust was balanced on the edge of a very sharp blade. If he made the wrong move, he would lose everything. Solange was too great a prize to lose through careless handling.

Solange Sangria was a miracle in more ways than Dominic had thought. He replayed the image of her fight with the vampire over and over in his head. She might not have noticed so small a thing, but he stared for a long time at the ground where so many of the parasites had dropped when fleeing her bloodstream. Unbeknownst to her, she reached with her other hand to scrub at the vampire blood, scattering more of her own over the top of the black acid burning through her skin—or it should have been.

The acidic blood had burned through flesh, but the moment it came into contact with her veins, the vampire blood had dried and fallen from her flesh. She was busy washing it off in the river, and she hadn’t noticed. What was in her blood? Was she the one Xavier had been hunting for her blood? And if so, what did she have to do with the book the prince guarded so carefully?

The sound of his heart beating filled the cavern. His eyes snapped open. The jaguar lay across his body, obviously on guard. He buried one hand in the thick fur. It was silky, like Solange’s soft hair, the dark strands streaked with that soft, tawny color that seemed to melt into swirls in her hair. He stroked his fingers through the fur and up to her head.

The jaguar yawned lazily.

“You stayed up all day. I had strong safeguards surrounding us.” He sat up. “Shift.”

You guarded against the undead and mages. Your safeguards would work on humans and other animals as well, but I’m not certain they would work on Brodrick. I don’t want him to find you unable to defend yourself because he’s hunting me.

He waited. He had endless patience. She didn’t want to face him, but the longer she stayed in the cat’s form, the more terrifying facing him would become. He had been in her mind many times now. The information flooded from one to the other and he was beginning to know how she thought. If he wasn’t very careful, she would run, more afraid of their connection, growing as fast as it was, than she would be of any battle.

It took her a few minutes. The cat sighed, the hot breath blasting his chest.
I would like clothes, please. It would be . . . easier.

“Of course.” Although he rather preferred her naked. Unfortunately she was a temptation that would be difficult to continue to resist. Passion ran deep in her. How could it not? She was passionate about her cause, passionate about her family, and she would be passionate with her lifemate in bed. Mix that fire with her sheer vulnerability to him and it made for a fairly heady aphrodisiac. She sounded sleepy. He knew she’d stayed awake most of the day, worried Brodrick would find his resting place. He rubbed his fingers through the thick fur, massaging those strong muscles.

“Stay as you are and I will return in a short time. You can sleep while I hunt.”

Mmmmm.

The drowsy note in her voice was more Solange than jaguar, and his body tightened instantly. The soft sound produced a hard punch to his groin, and that was as expected. But the beast rising ferociously, demanding he claim his mate, was not only shocking but unsettling. It wasn’t the vampire blood in his veins; it was his Carpathian blood. He had found his lifemate after waiting centuries, and there was a chance for a future with her. His soul called to hers, and all of a sudden the darkness was far thicker and much uglier. His barren existence grew unbearable now that he had been in her mind—now that he could feel again.

He waved his hand and the blanket of soil he’d allowed himself dropped away as he carefully extracted his body out from under the sleepy jaguar. As he did so, he murmured a command, gently pushing her toward sleep.

He felt her languid stirring in his mind.
That won’t work on me.

He laughed out loud, startling himself. The sound filled the cavern with happiness. “Just testing,
kessake
, to see if you were paying attention.”

For the first time he felt the brush of her amusement, and the heady feeling burst over him. She had relaxed enough to respond to his teasing. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. She’d handed herself to him with her revelation, and she was terrified of the consequences, but he’d still managed to slip past her guard and make her laugh.

“This will not take long,” he promised and because he loved the feel of all that soft, silky fur and knew she was hiding deep in the cat’s form, he deliberately ran his fingers down her entire spine.

He felt her shiver in reaction, but the jaguar didn’t lift her head and eye him with her piercing stare. She kept her head on her paws. He floated to the surface of the cave and poured through the tunnel as vapor, scanning the area surrounding their resting place before unraveling the safeguards. He would replace them, but if she was right about Brodrick, he couldn’t guarantee her safety from the male jaguar. That meant he couldn’t travel too far from her and he would have to be especially alert for the predator.

The moment he was a good distance from Solange, the parasites began their whispers, calling to him to feel the rush of the kill. They weren’t as active, her blood still subduing them, but the farther he moved from his lifemate, the more the mutated worms awoke, raking and clawing at his insides, demanding he remove all traces of Carpathian and royal jaguar blood and replace it with the acidic blood of the vampire, the environment where the creatures thrived.

Ignoring them, he continued out of the caves. Vapor poured across the open ground, low, parallel to the floor, climbing higher once it gained deeper forest. The gray mist shifted until it stacked itself, taking the form of the harpy eagle, circling high above the area while he fastened safeguards around the series of cliffs that hid the limestone caves, all the while using sharp eyes to detect any movement on the ground that would indicate the jaguar male was on their trail.

The rain forest burst with color, flowers winding up the tree trunks, great splashes of brilliant purples and pinks and bright ruby reds. He noted each and every one, savoring the beautiful colors he hadn’t seen in centuries. He could once again appreciate the beauty of the world instead of simply remembering it. Truthfully, even his memories had faded in the last century. Now he could look down from his ever-expanding circle and drink in the sight of the flower-covered trees, the explosion of colors, the vivid greens of the trees and the brilliant hues of the fungus. The water-falls and pools dotting the landscape along with the swollen river winding in and out of the forest, carving its way through the rugged terrain, were beautiful to him.

He found no evidence of Brodrick anywhere. Relieved, he doubled back toward the spot where they had battled the vampires. He knew Zacarias would meet him there if at all possible. Below him, he spotted the laboratory. Someone had already begun repairs on the side of the building. He circled overhead, trying to pick up Brodrick’s scent. If he found the man, he would kill him. He knew Solange intended to face her birth father, but all that really mattered was that he was rendered incapable of continuing his slaughter of those he deemed impure and his kidnapping and brutal assault on women.

A sudden charge built in the surrounding air and Dominic settled in the trees, folding the expansion of wings and watching as a tall, impressive figure emerged from the knee-high fog rolling across the ground. The man stood for a moment, silver hair hanging down his back, his build fit and muscular. He turned, and Dominic recognized him from the old days. Giles. An old friend. His family had been craftsmen. Dominic had always admired Giles. He was smooth and controlled in battle, a good man to have at one’s back in a fight. He had never expected to see Giles as a vampire.

He looked good, his face impeccable, his teeth white and his charm noticeable even from the distance between them. He had to have been a vampire a long, long time to acquire the necessary skill to cover all evidence of the rotting flesh and blackened soul. Giles tapped his foot, the only movement indicating he might be annoyed. He was obviously waiting for something and impatient that anything or anyone would make him late. And that said everything Dominic needed to know. Giles was a master vampire, experienced in the dark arts as well as battles. He was used to being at the top of the food chain. And if he was involved in the Malinovs’ conspiracy to take down the prince, there was far more danger than anyone had ever conceived of. No
master
of Giles’s caliber would bind himself to serve beneath another. The vampires were evolving. Somehow the Malinovs had managed to find a way to bring the vampire’s vanity and need for reckless destruction under some semblance of control.

Two more figures wavered, transparent for a few moments before revealing themselves fully, an occurrence that usually happened when someone had transported quickly. Both were disheveled, although as they emerged fully under the moon, they pulled themselves back together. Giles was already frowning at their lack of ability to maintain their appearances at all times. The newcomers weren’t lesser vampires, another mark for Giles. Most
masters
could keep only the newest close to them, to serve as pawns as they learned the ways of the vampire, but both men had obvious skills.

“You are both late,” Giles accused. He narrowed his gaze, fixing that ruby-red stare on the man to his left. “You were to escort Demyan and his followers to this location. I do not see them. I hope you have a good explanation, Beau.” He turned his head slowly, a reptilian movement that had the second man taking a step back. “And you, Fabron, I do not see them with you either.”

A shudder went through Beau. “We went to the appointed spot to meet them, Giles, but they weren’t there. We searched the area. A few miles to the east, there were signs of a battle. I believe the oldest De La Cruz brother is in this area and he attacked them.”

Gile’s breath hissed out between his teeth. “That maggot human we tortured lied to us. I should have kept him alive longer. You said you scanned his brain . . .”

“The brothers protect those who serve them,” Fabron reminded.

Instantly the air sizzled and something snapped hard against Fabron’s cheek. Sparks rained down, a dazzling display. Giles hadn’t appeared to so much as lift his hand. Dominic studied the vampire more closely. He was smooth. Very fast, the action too quick to follow with the human eye, but Dominic had seen the action as a blur. For a moment he thought he’d blinked, but Giles had actually moved, used a wave of his hand to push the electrical charge toward his followers. It was no wonder he cowed them. He must appear to them as a mage might, able to do things no other could.

“You believe Zacarias has destroyed Demyan and his followers?”

Fabron and Beau both nodded vigorously. “There was a battle. We could not read the ground. Already, the rain forest is fighting back.”

Deep inside the body of the harpy eagle, Dominic smiled. He and Zacarias had made certain to remove every trace of vampire blood from the ground and trees so the rain forest could repair itself. Dominic had even remembered to stimulate the forest growth before he’d allowed himself to look upon his lifemate. She had been so beautiful to him, standing there like a fierce warrior who had battled side by side with him, looking at him with the eyes of a vulnerable woman.

He hadn’t expected the flood of overwhelming emotion. He’d felt protective of her. He’d wanted so much to gather her into his arms and hold her close. Trust was everything with a woman such as Solange. He had to earn her loyalty and respect, and most of all her love. He understood what a gift it was and he valued her all the more for her reserve. He was not a man to ever share his woman, and that side of her, soft and vulnerable, belonged to him alone.

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