Dark Crime

by Christine Feehan

  The slaughter was horrific. Bodies were strewn across the chamber floor. Maksim and Zhestokly fought through the lines to get to the door, and they made it with relative ease. Zhestokly went to work on the safeguards and Maksim fought off all attackers, to give the hunter the time to bring down the safeguards.

  The undead appear to be nothing but cannon fodder, Lojos said. There are at least three master vampires, and there have to be many others capable of fighting. Not children untried on the battlefield, yet none have come forth to fight us.

  They ran, Maksim said. Vadim and Sergey have lost their brothers, and they retreated from Europe and South America, coming here to make their stand. They have learned to retreat and set up elsewhere. They probably have several lairs set up in other cities just like this one. There is no reason to stay and fight. They know they will die eventually facing us. So they throw their raw recruits at us to slow us down, giving them time to disappear.

  Maksim glanced down at the three bodies lying practically at his feet. The new recruits might be raw and inexperienced, but they were fanatical.

  Safeguards are down, Zhestokly said.

  Maksim went through the door first. Emeline was lying on the floor, her body wracked with sobs. Her face was swollen and bruised. Her clothes were torn and bloodied. She scrambled away from him when he approached her. He could see the evidence of Vadim's feeding on her neck. She had black blood smeared across her mouth where he'd forced her to feed.

  He held up his hand. "Emeline, look at me. See me. Blaze sent me to get you. I will take you to safety."

  The woman shook her head, pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, rocking herself.

  "Emeline." Maksim approached cautiously. "You know you cannot stay here."

  "Don't," she whispered. "He made me unclean. You can't come near me. Blaze can never come near me."

  "I will take you away from here," Maksim said. "Someplace safe."

  "He said he would come for me. He will. I know he will." Emeline kept her chin on her knees, raising stricken eyes to Maksim. "He'll be able to see all of you through me. I can't get near any of you."

  The other hunters were there in the room. Silent. Watchful. Maksim waved his hand at them. "All of us will protect you from him. Let me take you out of here."

  Emeline took a deep breath, choked on a sob and nodded, but she didn't move. Maksim walked to her cautiously, carefully, taking his time so as not to startle her or frighten her any more than she already was. He didn't know all that Vadim had done to her in the short amount of time he had her, but now wasn't the time to ask. Vadim's scent was all over her.

  With torn clothes and evidence of a terrible struggle, he could see that Vadim hadn't been able to control her with his mind. That would frustrate and infuriate him because he had so little time.

  Maksim reached down, again keeping his movements slow, holding out his hand to her. "Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you?"

  She swallowed hard. "You'll have to carry me. Can you really protect me from him? Otherwise I can't go near Blaze and I need her."

  "We can protect you," he assured.

  She nodded slowly, tears running down her face. "Then please take me to Blaze. I need Blaze."

  Maksim lifted her gently. A shudder ran through her body and she held herself tight, withdrawn. She didn't look at him, nor did she relax into him. The other hunters closed ranks around her, showing her without words their intentions to guard her. She closed her eyes and stayed very still, her fingers curled into two tight fists.

  SIXTEEN

  "IT'S BEEN A week, Maksim," Blaze said unhappily, frowning at the door to the cabin on the Asenguard property. The house was more of a luxury guesthouse than a cabin, but it was made of logs, was two stories with a wraparound deck. "Emeline won't talk to me about what happened. She barely says anything at all."

  Maksim reached for her hand, threaded his fingers through hers and drew her close, her front to his side, tucking her beneath his shoulder protectively. The moment Blaze woke each rising, before anything else, she checked her friend. The last thing she did before she went to sleep was reach out to her as well.

  Blaze pressed her face against his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt. "I'm so worried about her. Emeline and the children. But it's Emmy I don't know how to reach."

  Maksim looked up at the closed door of the cabin. Emeline was safe on the Asenguard property. Tariq had a sweet setup. He'd been there long enough to establish himself. His safeguards were strong, and when Maksim had joined in his efforts there to fit into the world and the century they lived in, he had added his protection to Tariq's property first and then, when he'd acquired the land bordering Tariq's, his own. Together they bought and slowly renovated a nightclub.

  "Tariq has provided a good counselor for the children. They were living on the streets and now they have a good home. Tariq's boathouse is safe. I set up safeguards so the baby cannot possibly have an accident and fall into the lake. They understand that as long as they are on this property--or ours--we will protect them. Tariq is arranging for a teacher to educate them. They will have everything we can provide for them to be healthy and happy," Maksim assured her.

  He began walking her away from the cabin. She loved Emeline and he couldn't reassure her that her Emmy was going to be all right. Only time would do that. Vadim could talk to her. Whisper to her. Try to draw her out into the open. None of them had the power to stop that. Eventually the master vampire would drive her mad if the Carpathians couldn't figure out a way to stop him. They could protect the air around and above the compound, but they couldn't stop a master vampire--one who had exchanged blood with his victim--from getting inside her head.

  "I have no idea how to help her. I don't know if it did more than take her blood because she won't tell me." Knowing they were doing their best, but even that might not be good enough, Blaze asked, "Honey, what should I do?"

  "You have to keep doing what you are doing, draga mea, keep going to her every day. She does not want to leave her house, that is fine. Just keep insisting she see you every single day. Tariq and I will keep trying to remove Vadim's blood from her system. We will take each day as it comes. That is all we can do for now."

  Blaze sighed softly. "I'm so grateful I have you, Maksim. Thank you for getting her back for me."

  "It was a team effort, Blaze. We had no idea Vadim and Sergey Malinov were anywhere close, let alone in our city. Their operation is enormous. It could take years to ferret them all out and destroy them. This will not happen overnight, and Emeline will not heal overnight, either. The children were traumatized. She was as well."

  "She knew what would happen to her and she still went into those tunnels," Blaze whispered. Her fist tightened in his shirt. She pressed closer to his warm, hard body. "I couldn't get out in time to stop them from taking her. Even being Carpathian, I couldn't do it."

  "We prevented Vadim from taking her," Maksim pointed out. "She is here in the compound. We have Danny, Amelia, Liv and little Bella. Val Zhestokly is in the ground being healed. So is Tomas. The ancients gather each rising and supply him with blood. Mataias is searching neighboring cities for signs of another lair. We've sent word to Andre to come here to help us. We will take care of her."

  "I didn't get to her in time," Blaze repeated.

  "I think you did just fine, Blaze. We destroyed Reginald Coonan and all of the Hallahan brothers. You exposed all of us to a terrible threat, allowing us to do our jobs in the future. Emeline made her choice, and it was her choice. She has the respect and protection of half a dozen ancient hunters and hopefully more will come to aid us. She went into those tunnels to get those children out and she succeeded with your help. She took that chance and we got her out. At this point, Blaze, we have to call that a success."

  Blaze nuzzled his chest. He was right. The vampires were gone, but she knew they wouldn't stay gone. All of them knew it. Vadim would be coming back at some point, when he determined he was strong
enough to take on Emeline's protection, or, hopefully, when he decided Emmy wasn't worth his trouble and he moved on to a different plan.

  "Tariq will have legal guardianship over the children in another few days. One of the Carpathian techs is making certain of that. No one will be able to dispute his claim. Danny and Amelia are very happy to stay within our protection. They know what is at stake," Maksim said. "They are good kids and the girls have tested very high for psychic abilities. Vadim chose his victims carefully."

  "He was tracking hunters," Blaze pointed out. "Warning other vampires to move out of an area if a hunter came into it. He's very sophisticated and has really incorporated the use of technology into his plans."

  Maksim took a deep breath. "That was part of our downfall, Blaze. We studied the world around us, but we kept to ourselves. None of us believed that the vampires would be able to overcome their need for cruelty and selfishness in order to band together. Vadim recruits the very young. They do not want to wait for a lifemate. They see the ancients still do not have one and they want to take a shortcut. He exposed the weakness in our society and word has been sent to the prince. We need to correct our mistakes immediately."

  He wrapped his arms around Blaze and took them both into the air, back toward their home. I have need of you, sufletul meu, he whispered into her mind.

  Intimate. Sexy. Hungry. Predatory even. She shivered. She loved that--the way he poured himself into her, filled her mind with him. Filled her heart with him. She wanted him deep in her body, connecting them.

  Blaze turned her face up to his. Ready for him. Always ready for him. The future was a little dark, but she was a warrior and she would stand with him to protect Emeline and the children. He would always make her world bright no matter what was happening around them.

  I love you, Maksim. Always know that. I love you.

  His face went soft, his eyes warm. His mouth curved into a smile. I love you, Blaze. His voice was tender, and when his mouth took hers, she ignited for him. Because he was her world now. She was his everything.

  Keep reading for a special peek at DARK CAROUSEL, on sale now, as the adventure continues for Tariq Asenguard!

  There were all kinds of ways to hunt for his quarry. Tariq Asenguard stared down from the balcony at the masses of people below. He and his partner, Maksim Volkov, had long ago converted the palatial theater into a dance club to bring in the crowds. He could stand up above them and look down all the way through four stories at the gyrating bodies below him.

  Tariq had drawn up the plans for the renovations himself, making certain that the center was open, so one could see each dance floor and bar when looking over the railings to the floors below. The arrangement was unique, and customers loved it and returned as often as possible. The only place he couldn't see was the basement, which he'd renovated for use as an underground club for the goth, grunge and vampire lovers that came out at night to live their lives the way they chose, accepted by others like them.

  Every floor had a different type of music and drew in a large variety of people. The more diverse, the better for him. The better his hunting. He could hear their heartbeats and the blood pounding in their veins, calling to him. It was easy to hunt in the confines of the building with so many bodies packed in close.

  He could use the eager men or women for sustenance when he was in need. It was easy enough to portray the image of the city's resident playboy with a woman on either arm. He was slowly building a reputation. A rich, eligible bachelor, co-owner of one of the hottest nightclubs in the city. Women flocked to him. That was exactly the result he'd wanted when he'd come up with the idea. He had four other clubs in various cities, and each had a different partner, one who watched over the club while he was at his main residence.

  The design with the opening in the center of the dance floors was even more important now that he knew his greatest enemies had invaded his city. Vampires had gone underground. These weren't the undead of old. They were thinking, technology-using, planning-a-war vampires. Sophisticated and organized. Tariq could scan minds for news of bizarre killings signaling the possibility of a vampire close, one taking over the humans in the area in order to create an army aboveground.

  "Anything new?" Maksim came up behind him. He gripped the balcony and leaned down to observe the mass of bodies dancing on each floor below them.

  "No. That worries me more than if I'd discovered someone tainted." Tariq inhaled sharply. Frowned. "There is a scent . . ." He trailed off.

  "Sweat," Maksim said with a wry smile.

  Tariq had no sense of humor. For him, there was no riot of color as he looked down on the men and women dancing. He saw only a dull gray. He felt . . . nothing. He lived to hunt. To kill. Even in the doing of that, he felt . . . nothing. He inhaled again, and once more, it was there. That scent. Calling to him. Making his heart pound. Pumping hot blood through his veins. He leaned out farther over the rail.

  "It's elusive. Faint. Barely there."

  The smile faded from Maksim's rugged face. "What scent, Tariq? Vampire? There's been no hint of activity since we discovered the underground lair. We've been patrolling . . ."

  Tariq shook his head. "No. Orange blossoms and vanilla and something else. It is faint but it is there. You can't smell that? Somewhere . . ." He broke off again, searching each individual floor for the source of that extraordinary fragrance. He inhaled again and caught the elusive scent, drawing it into his lungs. Instantly his body reacted of its own accord, something that had never happened. A stirring. His blood hot. Thick. Beginning to pool low and wicked.

  He stilled as only a predator could, letting the wonder of feeling wash over him. Absorbing the shock of it. He didn't feel. He couldn't. He was ancient and long ago had lost all ability to feel anything. His body didn't react to a scent. To anything at all. And yet . . .

  Maksim inhaled deeply. He nodded slowly. "I can't tell which floor she's on. A woman." He narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp on his partner. "Interesting that the scent intrigues you when there are so many. Why focus on just that one?"

  Tariq knew the answer, but he was afraid to voice it aloud after hunting for hundreds of years. His lifemate. The woman. His personal miracle. The fragrance wouldn't leave him alone. He had exceptional hunting skills, well proven over the centuries, yet the woman, a human, time and time again managed to escape him. More than once in these last few weeks, he'd felt her close, a ripple in the universe, the ground moving beneath his feet, or the air around him suddenly coming alive with electricity, yet she had managed to slip away. Not this time, woman. I have you now.

  He inhaled again . . . and knew for certain. That scent . . . Orange blossoms and vanilla continued to slip past his guard, until his blood thundered in his ears and rushed hotly through his veins. Until he felt obsessed with finding its owner. He didn't feel emotions like obsession. He didn't feel. It was impossible for an ancient Carpathian male to experience emotion unless he found his lifemate. Until he heard her voice.

  "She's here. In this club. Right now. I know she is. My lifemate." He whispered it aloud. In awe. Knowing it was the truth. She was there, in the building somewhere. There was no other explanation. He had to be hearing a whisper of her voice. A thread among all the others. She was there. That close. The one woman he'd searched centuries for. The one woman who would restore color to his life, ending his gray world. She would return his lost emotions after his centuries of feeling nothing. He had searched the long, endless years, every continent, but she had remained elusive. At last he was close to her, feeling her, his soul, his lifemate, his other half.

  His fingers gripped the thick, hand-carved banister, the enormous pressure leaving indentations in the hard wood. He leaned down to survey the dancers pressed so closely together on the various floors. His patience was growing thin. She was defying him. He knew she felt his calls. How could she not? He whispered to her night after night, soft words to draw her to him. He allowed the beat of the music to pulse into the air, sendi
ng a web of notes to lead her back to him, yet she eluded his every net.

  "She has to be close, Tariq," Maksim said, joining him at the railing. He gripped the wood as well, leaning down to listen, as if he could find her in the mass of bodies as they danced, drank and had numerous conversations.

  There was the clink of glasses. The sound of laughter. Of arguments. Of flirtations. The whisper of lovers coming together in the dark. Both men tried to hear that one voice. The voice that would restore color and emotion back into Tariq's life. He'd waited centuries for her, and still she eluded him.

  She could be on any floor and they would hear that whisper. She could be in the underground "cave" club. They could hear the conversations from there as well. They'd designed the club to make the occupants feel safe. Secure. The underground club had separate entrances and exits. The music loud, the place dark with deep blues and purples shadowing the dungeonlike decor.

  Tariq would never stop until he had her in his hands. She didn't understand that about him. He was as relentless and as merciless as the raging sea. There was no stopping him once he had his prey in sight. He was Carpathian, hunter of the vampire, and he had survived when most of his kind had long ago succumbed to the lure of power. He had done his duty to his prince and people, keeping his assigned regions clean and safe from the stench of evil.

  After all the long centuries, he knew she was close, yet she remained elusive, just out of his reach. He had turned his hunting instincts, honed by centuries of strategy, to finding her. He turned away from the blaring music and the scent of so much blood running hot in veins calling to him. It was a heady temptation he fought continually. Irritated at his inability to find her when she was so close, he wanted to roar his frustration to the night sky. He needed air, needed to go outside and breathe.