Dark Crime

by Christine Feehan

She realized he felt the pain through the connection of their minds. She pressed her hand against his chest over his heart. "Don't do that, Maksim. Don't stay connected to me. I want you to remember this--I chose this. You didn't force me. I wanted to come into your world, and I knew it wouldn't be easy. This was my decision."

  He shook his head. "It is impossible not to love you, Blaze, but if we are being strictly honest, which all lifemates must be with one another, I didn't give you a choice. I bound us together, soul to soul. I needed you in my world to survive. I have lived centuries, and the moment I met you, the temptation was far too much to resist. The ritual binding words are imprinted on the male before birth. I had to bind us."

  If his confession was supposed to make her think less of him, it didn't succeed. She went up on her toes, pulled his head down and kissed him. "I like that you need me, Maksim, because I need you. Now take me to the ground, or wherever we need to be, because I can feel the heat inside growing and I'm uncomfortable."

  Maksim swept his arms around, pulling her wholly into his body. Tight. His hand slid along her jaw and he tipped her face up to his. "I love you, Blaze, more than I can possibly express to you. Whatever happens tonight, know I am with you."

  He kissed her, and the man could kiss. He kissed hard, and deep, pouring himself into her. She tasted the essence of him, that addicting flavor she'd never get her fill of, but more, she tasted love. Tears burned behind her eyes. Her father had died and practically a day later, she found a man to love forever.

  Dad missed knowing you by a day.

  He knew me. We talked. I had no idea his daughter was my lifemate, but he made it his business to know who was in his neighborhood. He was an exceptional man. It stands to reason he has an exceptional daughter.

  He lifted her into his arms and took her through the house fast, heading toward the kitchen. The door to the basement was tucked in a corner. He waved his hand and it opened for them. They floated down the stairs in the dark. She could see everything, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but concentrating on the wave of pain, much worse than the first one, that shook her entire body.

  She convulsed right there in his arms. Her teeth bit down so hard into her lip she drew blood. Her breath slammed out of her lungs. There was no way to control it.

  Do not fight it, his voice whispered softly in her mind.

  He was there. She wasn't alone with the agony. It was hard to concentrate, not when her body twisted and jerked and the knives and razors slashed through every organ and muscle. Her head felt as if it might explode. Her spine curved, straightened, slamming her up and then down so Maksim had to work to hold on to her.

  You have to give yourself to the pain. Let it take you. Let it consume you. Like in battle, Blaze. When you are hurt, you have to let it just have you so you can continue. Let this pain have you. I will not leave you.

  She wanted to reassure him she knew he wouldn't leave her alone. He was there with her even when she'd told him not to be. She knew. She relied on his strength and he would see her through this. She hadn't expected such a physical battle, but he was right, if she were going to survive, she would have to give herself to the pain. And it was excruciating.

  Her body stopped convulsing, but she felt sick. Her stomach protested the human toxins. She didn't want to vomit there in his arms. She wanted her hair out of the way and him gone so she could do this in private where he couldn't see.

  You have to go and let me do this. Stay in my mind, but don't watch. I can't bear for you to see me this way.

  Maksim opened the earth deep. The soil was cool as he laid her naked into the loam rich with minerals. I will be right here. His hands moved through her hair, loosening the thick mass and then sweeping it up on top of her head to secure it in a loose knot. There was finality in his tone, and she knew instinctively that Maksim wasn't a man to argue. He wasn't leaving her.

  When you make up your mind, you're every bit as stubborn as I am.

  She tried to inject humor into her tone, but her stomach was churning. Heaving. She turned on her side. As fast as she emptied the contents, Maksim cleaned the dirt around them, keeping the air smelling rich and earthy. The scent eased her, as if somehow the loam, dark and sparkling with natural deposits, reached out to aid her. She felt the soil moving around and beneath her and that was soothing as well.

  I guess there are a few good reasons for keeping you around.

  His hand rubbed her back, down low, just in the curve of her spine above her buttocks. A few, he acknowledged.

  If both of us are stubborn, we might have a few arguments.

  I do not argue.

  He confirmed what she already knew about him. Laughter bubbled up in spite of the situation. Of course he didn't argue. They were in for some interesting times.

  The pain hit again, coming out of nowhere. This time her body seized. Was picked up and slammed down. She curled into a ball, was straightened and thrown backward. There was no control. No breathing through the agony. No way to stop the humiliating shedding of the toxins. They poured out of every pore. Her mouth and nose. Her stomach and every other place as well.

  In her mind, when she started to panic, she felt him there. Maksim. Her anchor. He calmly disposed of every drop of the poisonous toxins the Carpathian blood was pushing from her system. He didn't shirk away from her. He kept one hand on her back, or moving up into the knot at the top of her head, his fingers sliding down her cheek. Breathing. Filling their lungs with air when she was incapable. A rock. Her rock.

  His tranquility kept her sane. She could do this. She'd done worse. She'd been knocked over by her father's tortured body. She'd pulled him into her arms, held him until the cops got there and they'd taken a long while to come. That had been true agony. Waiting with his mutilated body in her arms nearly all night for the cops and the coroner to come.

  Sufletul meu. He whispered the endearment into her mind. Just that. My soul. My air. The very air I breathe. She understood because he was wrapped around her. There in her heart. In her soul. Most of all, she could feel him in her mind, speaking to her, interpreting for her, sharing his life with her.

  She had no idea how long the waves came, the convulsions or how powerful each wave was, because she endured. She gave herself to the pain. To him. To the new world she was entering of her own free will. She heard nothing but Maksim's voice, telling her of his life, of the world through the centuries he saw.

  Swords. Horses. Battles. Beautiful places. The stars overhead and the moonlight in every stage. Forests. Cool meadows and blue ice caves. He gave her that, all in his velvet voice. His voice became her world and the only thing in it. The waves of agony twisted her body, picked her up and slammed her back into the welcoming earth, but she was so consumed by Maksim's voice, she barely was aware of what was happening to her.

  He talked to her about what she meant to him. The absolute beauty of finding her--his unexpected gift--his miracle. He told her of searching for her down through the long, endless centuries, the black void when his memories of his home and his childhood, of his family, began to fade. He spoke of hunting friends and once, a family member, taking his duty and honor seriously.

  Maksim talked to her of new worlds and how he no longer could remember the beauty of seeing such things until she came into his world. The things he said to her about the way he felt were so beautiful she wanted to cry, but the tearing agony was too close, and she would have to acknowledge it if she did.

  Some time later, Maksim held her in his arms, his lips whispering over her skin. "I can put you to sleep now, lubirea mea--my love. When you rise, you will rise as one of us."

  She was exhausted. The pain was still there, but the horrible convulsions had stopped. She managed to lift her hand to caress his hard jaw. Is Emeline safe?

  "Lojos gave her blood and she is asleep. He guards her."

  Blaze gave herself permission to succumb to Maksim's control. He sent her to sleep and she went without a fight now that she knew her f
riend was safe.

  *

  MAKSIM woke as he always did, instant alertness, scanning the area above and below him. It was a little too early for Blaze to rise. She needed more healing, so something else had interfered with his sleep.

  I need a consult.

  Tariq Asenguard. He wasn't alone. Maksim glanced down at the woman sleeping in his arms. She was beautiful. Pale skin, red hair. Lots of hair. He smoothed his hand over the mass. He'd put her in the ground with a messy topknot, and the thick mass was still trapped by the cord he'd wound there, but there seemed to be so much more of it.

  He couldn't stop himself from rubbing his jaw along the soft, silky strands. He never, over the long centuries, ever really believed he would find her. The last few centuries had been bleak and never ending. A long, gray void. He accepted his life because Carpathian hunters endured. They lasted as long as possible. In the end all they had was honor, and that had to mean something. He had done his duty, but he never really believed he would find his reward. His gift. His own personal miracle.

  Blaze amazed him; not once during her entire ordeal had she ever felt a hint of recrimination toward him. Not once. There was no fleeting thought that she hadn't made a good choice or she wished she could take it back. She hadn't made a sound. She hadn't looked at him with trepidation or anger. She clung to his every word and allowed him to transport her away from the agony of the conversion. It was agony. He felt it every step of the way in his own body. In his mind. His muscles were sore. His joints ached. Even now, after a day in the rejuvenating soil. He couldn't imagine how she'd feel when she awakened.

  I will be right there. He couldn't go too far from her. She was vulnerable. Their enemies could find them in the ground, and she was in a deep sleep. Defenseless.

  Maksim found himself smiling. His woman was far from defenseless. He nuzzled her thick topknot again, the silky strands catching in the shadow along his jaw, tying them together. He had never imagined himself with a warrior. In his mind, when he allowed himself to think about a lifemate, she was always shy and demure. In need of protection. He found himself smiling.

  Blaze needed him, just not in the way he thought she would. He certainly needed her. Not just her beautiful body, but her soul--her warrior's soul. He admired her. Respected her. Believed in her. She had a protective streak as well as an independent streak. It would take her a little time to get used to having a partner. He would have to have patience when she forgot to consult with him, and he was certain that would happen often.

  He waved his hand and opened the earth over them. The night sky was dark. No moon. No stars. Only roiling clouds. Black and angry. Churning. The wind blew hard, bringing the threat of rain with it. In the distance lightning forked. A few seconds later, thunder rolled. The weather was natural, not created by Carpathian or vampire. He liked storms. He always had, even as a boy. Floating out of the ground, he covered Blaze with a wave of his hand.

  Maksim found himself reluctant to leave her, even for a brief meeting. Blaze was strong willed. If, in her sleep, she sensed him gone, or something wrong, she might wake. He didn't want her to wake beneath the earth, thinking she was buried alive. She would still have her human reactions in spite of her intellect and acceptance of the world she belonged in now.

  Tariq waited for him inside his home, in the great room where the moon and stars glowed gold in the wood on the floor. The clouds opened as Maksim stepped into the room, the rain pounding on the roof. The wind slashed at the windows, driving drops of rain into the glass. Tree branches bent down toward the ground, and leaves created small eddies in the sky as they whirled and tumbled with the force of the gusts.

  "Reginald Coonan is only one of several master vampires creating an empire below the city," Tariq greeted.

  Maksim stopped moving, going completely still at the news. "Times keep changing," he murmured. "Shows we have got to keep up with them. Centuries ago, the vampire wouldn't tolerate another vampire in his territory."

  "It was only this century the master vampire began collecting newly turned vampires to serve them," Tariq agreed.

  "And now?" Maksim prompted.

  "It seems the masters are conspiring together right here. The crime rate has quadrupled, but I never suspected it was because we were overrun with vampires. They are keeping a tight rein on their pawns," Tariq mused.

  "You are certain of this information?" Maksim said. "There have been a few messy kills but only a few."

  "We all thought Blaze's friend was targeted because she saw a vampire kill. But she said there were two vampires. We thought newly turned. But she saw them. Reginald and the other one. I recognized him from our homeland. That was one of the Malinov brothers, Vadim, I am certain. He has to be the one running the show. If they are not the only masters here in the city, even with Tomas, Mataias and Lojos, I am uncertain if we can clean out this nest."

  Maksim's heart sank. The Malinov brothers were notorious in the Carpathian world. All five had deliberately turned on their own people, plotting over and over to kill Mikhail Dubrinsky, the prince of their people. Most vampires reached a point after centuries of darkness to reach for a feeling, a fleeting rush. Just as a junkie might reach for a drug, they kill for the high in the blood. The Malinov brothers deliberately made the choice, and they did it immediately. Together. They conspired and plotted before they sought to become the undead, and they continued to plot after.

  "You are certain that was one of the Malinov brothers?"

  Tariq nodded slowly. "It was Vadim for certain. Kirja was killed by Rafael De La Cruz. Mikhail killed Maxim. Zacarias De La Cruz killed Ruslan. I have no doubt if Sergey is alive, then he is close by. The Malinovs traveled together as a rule."

  "Blaze shot him in the face. Vadim and his brothers were always physically beautiful and prided themselves on that." Maksim made it a statement, but the worry was there. Vadim wouldn't forget Blaze. He stiffened. "He did not kill the woman. Emeline. Blaze's friend. If he wanted her dead, he would have killed her instantly, but he tried to take her out of there. Reginald was a distraction, attacking Blaze, opening her veins so we would rush to her defense. The target was her friend."

  Tariq shook his head. "You want the target to be her friend, but Reginald was taking Blaze out of the club. He opened her vein, but it was not enough to kill her right away. He knew she was strong. They wanted both women. The Hallahan brothers did not fight us, Maksim. When they came to Blaze's bar, they turned back when they saw us. It was not because they recognized what we were."

  "They had orders," Maksim whispered. One fist clenched. "They wanted her alive. They were going to take her to the lair."

  Tariq nodded. "Mataias followed Terry and Carrick. They went underground. It is a labyrinth down there. There is a command center somewhere, he is certain of it. They have electricity running and all the modern conveniences. He found a small area marked Research and when he entered, they had cells down there and are holding at least four prisoners there. He could not free them because there were too many pawns close, but he said we needed to get there fast."

  "It will take planning. That is why Reginald was after the properties. They do not care about the businesses above them; they want what is beneath them. If they had already secured some of the properties in the past, and Vadim must have, they have been preparing for this for some time," Maksim mused.

  "Vadim and his brothers were always smart and they were always plotting. Your lifemate is close to rising?"

  Maksim nodded. "I need another night. I will wake her next rising and then we will go on the hunt. See if any other hunters are close enough to aid us."

  "We will need to plan our attack carefully. Especially if they have prisoners they can use as hostages," Tariq said. "They will have the advantage down there. Mataias is trying to investigate enough that we can maneuver down there. Vadim and the other masters will have escape routes set up just in case."

  Maksim sighed. "There's another thing, Tariq. When Xavier, the High Mage
, was killed, two small pieces of him, shadow splinters, remained behind. Blaze fought the vampire's puppet, but when he was on fire, dragging himself toward her, she saw intelligence in his eyes. Malevolence. She described it as sheer evil. If one of the Malinov brothers managed to get a shadow splinter of Xavier and has it in him, he will not only have the cunning and intelligence of the Malinovs, but also that of Xavier."

  There was a small silence as Tariq absorbed the information. "A master vampire could see through his puppet's eyes, Maksim," he finally reminded softly.

  Maksim nodded, locking his gaze with Tariq's. "That is so, but the puppet was in excruciating pain. Agony. Burning. No vampire would risk getting caught in the dying throes of a puppet. This vampire did. Only a mage could do that and come out unscathed."

  There was another long silence while the two hunters contemplated the nearly impossible task of going after a nest of master vampires. The impossible wouldn't stop either of them. They had faced worse odds over the long centuries and hopefully would again.

  "We need to put out the call," Tariq agreed. "I've noticed the vampires seem to know when hunters move in. Since I made this area my home, the evidence of kills has become less and less."

  "Yet there are many of the undead here," Maksim said.

  Tariq nodded slowly. "I think they are becoming better at hanging on to their intellect. In the old days, once a vampire turned, he became cunning and savage, but his nature was so evil, the need for cruelty outweighed even safety."

  "The Malinov brothers have changed that," Maksim said.

  Tariq sighed. "I have no doubt it was them. Vadim is a genius. The problem was, he was always out for himself. He wanted power. He could have done so much for our people, but he believed we should rule the world. That humans should serve us."

  "He has more patience than imaginable for a vampire," Maksim said. "To have acquired properties with the idea of using them a century later takes planning and patience."

  Again there was a small silence. Vadim Malinov was infamous in the Carpathian world, every bit a legend as Lucian and Gabriel, the twin hunters. Vadim was a thinking man, even in his youth. He was a fierce fighter--the Malinov brothers on par with the De Le Cruz brothers when it came to their reputation in a battle.