Dark Slayer 20

by Christine Feehan

  Ivory circled the house. Two children inside. The vampire knows it, although the man tries to hide the information. His woman is in the barn. She thinks to fight for her man. She has armed herself with garlic, crosses and holy water, but has no real weapon other than farm tools.

  There was admiration in Ivory's voice. Razvan liked that about her. Her take on the world was very simplistic. A man and a woman fought together for their family, even against the worst kind of evil. Both knew they probably would die, but they hoped to take their attacker with them and give their children a chance to survive.

  His first thought was to send Ivory to get the woman and her children to safety while he took on the vampire. He had no doubt that he could kill a vampire. He had a rudimentary knowledge of how to slay them, but she would have a better chance to save the farmer as well. He needed time to perfect his fighting skills, so he remained silent and left it to Ivory to tell him what she wanted to do.

  I would not do what you told me to do anyway. There was a distinctly teasing note in Ivory's voice, although they both knew she was perfectly serious.

  Deep inside, in spite of the gravity of the situation, Razvan found himself happy. Little moments like this, shared amusement, things he'd forgotten existed between people, made up joy in life. He'd forgotten that, and he bet Ivory had as well.

  You are a bossy little thing, but I like that. I must be a little strange.

  A little? She gave a snort and slipped into the barn through a crack in the window frame.

  A woman frantically searched through several farming tools, dragging anything with a sharp blade out to a center pile. Tears ran down her face, but she worked fast, her breath coming in soft sobs.

  «Shh,» Ivory cautioned as she materialized to one side of the woman. «I am a Carpathian warrior come to aid you. Please put down your weapon and do exactly as I tell you. You will have to trust me.»

  Razvan instinctively stayed in the form of vapor, knowing his presence would only serve to frighten the woman further.

  «With your help, I think we have a chance of saving your husband.»

  Ivory's voice was quiet and calm. She looked regal, a snow princess come out of the world of nature in her long silver wolf coat, so thick and luxurious falling to her ankles. Her hair cascaded in a long blue-black fall and her face looked serene and innocent. Her voice sounded like warm, melting honey. In contrast, she carried a lethal-looking crossbow and the belt at her hip was covered in weapons. But it was the double rows of tiny crosses embedded in her buckles that eased the woman's tensions.

  The farmwife made the sign of the cross in the air. Ivory answered her with the same sign and the woman relaxed and tossed her curved scythe onto the pile of tools.

  CHAPTER 8

  Ivory walked from the barn toward the stable, her head up, her eyes glowing a strange whiskey gold as she approached the building. From his position inside the stable, where he now waited for her, Razvan could see her advancing, each confident stride carrying her closer. She took his breath away. She definitely had an otherworldly quality, as if the legend of the Dark Slayer had come to life and moved with grace and elegance through the snow.

  The vampire toying with his victim looked up as the horses, nervous and stamping in their stalls, suddenly quieted. Pigs stopped squealing. The stables went eerily silent.

  Ivory flashed a small smile toward the vampire. «I do not recognize you, but I see you have no table manners. Perhaps you wish to taste something much richer.» Deliberately, her eyes on the vampire, she set her teeth into her wrist.

  Razvan noted the vampire immediately lost interest in the human, dropping him to the floor, where the farmer did his best to crawl away while the vampire was fixated on the sight of those small white teeth sinking into a delicate wrist. Two beads of blood welled up, ruby-red, dotting her smooth, petal-soft skin. The fragrance of her drifted to the vampire mixed with the tempting scent of Carpathian blood.

  Razvan watched as the farmer crawled toward a broken board in the wall. Instead of creeping through the hole in the wall, he reached to try to pry loose the board for a weapon. Razvan materialized on the other side of the wall and leaned in, finger to his lips. Taking a cue from Ivory, he sketched the sign of the cross in the air between them, knowing neither a minion sent from Xavier nor a vampire would do such a thing. When the man's eyes cleared and he nodded slightly, Razvan beckoned to him to slide through the ragged hole. As the man crawled into the snow, Razvan took his place, donning the illusion of the farmer's body and clothes.

  The vampire shuffled closer to Ivory. He bowed, smiling at her. As further evidence that he was recently turned, his teeth didn't have the spiked points, nor were they stained black. He still maintained his rugged good looks. «What are you doing wandering around alone without benefit of protection?»

  Ivory smiled sweetly. «What makes you think I am alone? Or without protection?» Keeping her gaze locked with his, she licked at the blood drops, closing the wound and depriving him of the treat he was so looking forward to.

  The vampire shook his head. «You have no protection, lady, or I would feel them near.»

  Ivory made an elegant, derisive sound that wiped the smile from the vampire's face. «You did not hear me. Why, then, would you think you could hear my lifemate? You were so busy toying with your food, you forgot the most basic of all lessons. It is no wonder that you will not survive this night.»

  She poured contempt into her voice, yet she sounded very much the lady. Soft-spoken, nonthreatening, delivering the reprimand from princess to peasant. Razvan's admiration for her grew. She mesmerized the vampire without doing anything but talking. The undead had all but forgotten about the lowly farmer. He didn't view the human as a threat at all. Instead, he concentrated his attention on Ivory, wanting her rich Carpathian blood, a treat for a vampire who had recently turned.

  The vampire scowled at her. «You dare to reprimand me when you walk the night alone? What are you doing here?» His voice turned wily and what he perceived as suave. «And such a beautiful woman, too. I have need of a lifemate.»

  «Your youth is showing. So impetuous and wrong. Only those newly turned vampires still believe they can force women to become lifemates. Too bad you will not have the time to grow experienced.» She tilted her head to one side and studied him, her gaze sweeping him up and down. «You are new enough that you still have your looks. Looks are wasted on the young.»

  Before he could reply her hand went to the loops on her holster and she flung six coated arrowheads into his chest in a straight line up and over his heart. Razvan rose to his feet and punched through the chest wall hard, the vampire blood burning over his arm and fist. He had so many scars that he barely felt the bite of the acid as he gripped the heart and began to extract it.

  The vampire roared and slammed his head against Razvan's. He tried to dissolve, but the coated arrowheads prevented his chest from shifting to vapor. Raking at Razvan with talons, he tore the flesh from the heavy muscles covering Razvan's chest in an effort to dig through and get to his heart. Razvan yanked his arm back, using more strength than he had thought it would take. The heart was black, but still a normal size.

  «Do not look at it. Incinerate it,» Ivory said.

  Razvan called down the lightning, careful to keep it from striking anything but the vampire and his heart. He bathed his arms and hands in the white-hot energy field. «Controlling the lightning is difficult. I almost missed and nearly hit you.»

  «I was prepared for it.» She sighed and regarded him with worried eyes. «Hesitation can get you killed. You were on him fast enough, but you cannot count him dead until the heart is incinerated. You should have burned that first. A more experienced vampire would have repaired himself while you were still marveling at your work.»

  Razvan laughed aloud. Killing vampires was dirty work. The fetid breath and claws tearing into his chest and belly had been both frightening and exhilarating. He'd done it. He'd killed his first vampire. It hadn't b
een a perfect kill, but he had destroyed the undead and saved the farmer. It felt good to do something positive instead of waking up to find that his body had impregnated a woman, or delivered a poisonous blow to his sister or her lifemate. There was no way to tell Ivory how he was feeling, so he didn't try. He flashed her a smile and bowed.

  «I will remember.»

  She was certain he would. He looked so happy standing in that bare, run-down stable with his clothes torn to shreds and his blood streaking his chest and arms and belly. She ran her worried gaze over him. Blood dripped steadily, but there was light in his eyes and in his mind. He made her feel humble with his simple pleasure in doing something she considered a job. He considered it good.

  «Thank you for allowing me the experience. It is the only way I will learn to become an asset on our hunt.»

  Ivory shrugged, feigning indifference when everything feminine and nothing warrior about her was reacting to that look in his eyes. «It was your plan,» she pointed out.

  He flashed a half grin at her, shrugging modestly. «In the old days, before I realized Xavier was in my mind, I was good at planning battles. I kept myself sane, exploring his weaknesses, and everyone else's as well. The vampires. Carpathians. Even the Lycans. But one day I realized that whenever I discovered that Xavier had a weakness it suddenly would be found and shored up. I was aiding my own enemy.»

  She wanted to comfort him, to just wrap her arms around him and hold him close; instead she leaned down to casually pick up her arrowheads and place them in the small pouch at her side. Razvan wasn't asking for pity; he was stating a fact. But it struck like a blow, that boyish memory that had to hurt like hell. «You took the vampire down fairly easily. And that's what counts.»

  «I am grateful you let me practice on him. Thinking it through in one's head is not the same as actually experiencing it. Taking the heart was harder than I expected. I am strong, and yet you make it look easy when it is not. There must be a trick to it that I have not gotten yet. But I will. I do think I had an advantage in that I can barely feel the burn of the vampire's blood anymore.»

  To Ivory, it was heartrending that he thought the buildup of scar tissue from his vampire blood-coated chains was an asset. She wanted to weep for him. Instead she forced a casual response. «He was hardly worth messing up my fingernails.» She waved her hand and the ashes blew from the rickety building. «Come here. Let me make certain there is no poison in the lacerations.»

  Razvan crossed to her side without hesitation. He caught her hand to examine her fingernails. «You are right. He was not worth messing them up. You have beautiful nails.»

  To her consternation he brought her fingertips to his mouth and kissed them. «You forget to warm yourself.» He blew on her fingers and then drew them into the warmth of his mouth.

  Her heart nearly stopped and then began to pound frantically. He was lethal at close range. That gentleness that was so much a part of him surrounded her, mesmerizing her as surely as her voice often captivated those within hearing distance. She took a breath and drew him deep into her lungs. She was tall and she could nearly look him square in the eye, but his shoulders were far wider than hers, even though she was wearing her thick fur coat.

  She felt safe with him. Which was silly, and disturbing. She had learned never to trust anyone, yet she had let this man into her life. She didn't need him. She didn't want him. But standing so close to him confused her. Hunters had a certain energy surrounding them; everyone did. His was different. His energy was peaceful, absolutely peaceful. Almost serene. Breathing him in gave her strength in a way she'd never known before. He had a quiet acceptance over his fate, and the lack of need to control everything and everyone around him. In his own way, Razvan was enthralling, charming her without even trying.

  Ivory swallowed hard and kept her gaze glued to the deep lacerations running up and down his chest. One particularly long scratch led down to his belly and disappeared into the band of his trousers. She laid her palm over one of the worst lacerations and closed her eyes, feeling for the poisonous brew that would signal parasites. Even though, after the first time, she knew the wounds were clean and merely welling blood, she continued to examine each individual injury.

  She liked standing so close to him. The sense of serenity was an aphrodisiac in itself. She had heard of the practices in the Far East that had spread throughout the world, and to her this man embodied the very spirit of Zen. He felt calm. Even the simple pleasure he took in learning was without ego or rush.

  Ivory leaned forward without conscious thought, her eyes half-closed, and slid her tongue over the long laceration, the healing agents in her saliva immediately removing the sting and closing the wound.

  Razvan went still. «What are you doing?» His voice went hoarse.

  Ivory noted the change in his breathing. He wasn't nearly as calm now as he'd been a moment ago, and there was something enormously satisfying in that. Her palm slid down to the next scratch and her mouth followed. Every muscle was defined, jumping beneath her touch, his body radiating heat, smelling of the outdoors on a spring night.

  His breath left his body in a rush. She felt the ripple in his taut belly as her mouth skimmed down his chest, lower, following the path of the laceration.

  «What are you doing?» he repeated.

  «Healing you.» Ivory's voice had gone husky-almost liquid-betraying her.

  He let his breath out in a long, slow exhale. «Listen to me, Ivory.» Razvan caught her wrists in his hands and held her away from him. His touch was gentle, incredibly so, but his grip was unbreakable without a fight. «My body betrayed me over and over. I do not even know how many times Xavier used my body to bring himself not only pleasure with other women, but to deliberately have a child with them so he could use the child's blood.»

  «I do not understand what you are saying to me.» Her eyes met his. Held there.

  «I am saying this is dangerous. You are my lifemate and everything in me demands I claim you. Once I weld us together it is for all time. I would not do that to you when it is so dangerous. You seemingly purged Xavier, but I was weak enough once that he managed to place not one but four pieces of himself into me. He used me for abhorrent, vile crimes. There are children in the world who suffered horribly because of my body. I do not know them. I would not recognize them if I saw them.»

  «You would,» she denied, believing her words. «You would recognize them.»

  «The healer and the prince tentatively accepted me, but only because I was with you. You would live the life of an outcast should you join with me.»

  Ivory shook her head. «You are so noble, Razvan, always putting others before yourself, but in truth, you have not thought this all the way through.» What was she saying? Ivory was appalled at herself, arguing with him as if she wanted him to claim her. When had her feminine nature become so perverse that she wanted him to want her, even though she would never accept his claim? What in the world had gotten into her? She must be far lonelier than she realized. She enjoyed her life. She had chosen her life. She licked her lips, tasting him. Craving him.

  «I am sorry. I do not know what got into me.» She turned away from him, but he didn't loosen his hold on her wrists, forcing her back to him.

  «Do not do that. I would never reject the one person I want in my life. Though you have studied Xavier, you do not know how truly evil he is. If he knew you meant everything to me, that you are the reason I still live, then he would cease trying to find me and turn everything he has to acquiring you. I cannot allow that to happen. You are the one person I would trade my soul for. He cannot know that.»

  She strained away a second time and he pulled her back, forcing her gaze to meet his, his grip firm, but still as gentle as ever, disarming her.

  «I would trade everything, even honor, for you. It is the one thing I have kept intact all these long years. I endured much for honor.»

  She nodded slowly. «Until I experienced the compulsion myself, I had no idea of the draw b
etween lifemates.»

  He shook his head slowly, still holding her gaze. «It is more than the draw between lifemates-much more. I have been inside your head. I have studied your home and the drawings you so patiently carved into the rock. Everything about you appeals to me. Every moment in your company only makes those feelings stronger. Perhaps the pull between us is strong physically because we are lifemates, but the pull on my heart and soul is equally as strong.»

  She drew in her breath. «Thank you for that.» She would hold his words to her. They were spoken in truth. She knew purity when she heard it. «We must feed before we return to our lair, and I should erase the memories of the farmer and his wife so they do not inadvertently speak of this and draw Xavier's attention.»

  «I touched his mind.» Razvan brought up each of Ivory's hands and pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin on her inner wrists where he'd been holding her. «The farmer would have fought for you, knowing he was going to die. He is a good man.»

  «I liked his wife as well. I am glad we found them before it was too late. Very few vampires dare to enter into the territory protected by hunters. This is just outside the hunter's range. I come here often to check, and even here, probably because the vampires disappear when they come this way, this region stays fairly safe-at least until recently, since Xavier has expanded his territories.»