Dark Storm

by Christine Feehan

  “Does all jaguar blood allow Carpathians to stay longer hours in the sun?” Dax asked, staring straight ahead at the dazzling display of lights.

  “If that was the case, I would have been the first to discover it,” Riordan said. “Juliette was jaguar. I would have been able to spend more hours awake.”

  “How do you know that you couldn’t? Did you try?” Dax asked.

  Riordan and Juliette looked at one another, clearly shocked. Riordan eventually shook his head. “I didn’t think to try, why would I? Still, I don’t think Juliette’s blood could have done what Solange’s blood does, and of course now, Juliette’s wholly Carpathian so it’s a moot point.”

  Dax turned to face the Carpathian. He was a hunter first, and he knew his prey almost as well as he knew himself. If Mitro was behind killing pregnant women and taking their babies, it wasn’t all for his amusement. He had targeted each victim deliberately. If he had found a way to prolong his time in the early morning or evening hours, he could do even more harm than he already was doing. He made a formidable enemy already. By adding daylight hours, he would have more time to recruit his army and more time to kill or make puppets.

  Riordan shook his head. “No vampire could ever go out in the sun. It isn’t possible.”

  “Mitro is no ordinary vampire,” Dax cautioned. “I took his heart and threw it in the magma pool and still he lives.”

  Riordan went very still. Juliette’s gasp was audible.

  Dax had no way of knowing, but the morbid, depraved taking of unborn infants from their mothers felt like Mitro. He looked at Riley. Obviously, she was thinking along the same lines as he was. She looked horrified. Truly horrified. He wanted to put his arms around her and shelter her close to his heart, keep her from twisted, depraved monsters.

  Her eyes met his. She sent him a small, reluctant smile and his heart turned over. I’m all right. We’ve seen how bad he is. And we came here for this.

  Arabejila’s blood as well as her gifts—and those of her ancestors—ran deep in Riley’s veins. If there was one person who could track Mitro, it was Riley, and she understood that.

  “Take us there, to one of these houses where you felt a presence,” Dax ordered. “Tonight. We have no time to lose.” He didn’t give the others time to refuse, turning on his heel, holding out his hand to Riley and gliding toward the door.

  There was relief in leaving the inside of the house. He could see how the Carpathians had designed it to suit them, but they were used to the modern world and civilization. He was not. The air didn’t feel the same. Nothing felt the same to him inside four walls. Riley’s presence helped, but he preferred the outdoors and the mountains.

  Riordan hesitated. “Juliette?”

  “I’ll stay with Gary and Jubal. We can watch over Jasmine. With safeguards, if the vampire has targeted her, his puppets won’t be able to get in here if you don’t return before the sun comes up. We’ll be safe as long as we’re inside.”

  Riordan nodded and then followed Dax out. Both hunters inhaled deeply, scenting the air, seeking information. Riley crouched low as both worked on the safeguards for the house, sinking her hands into the soil. Dax linked with her to gain knowledge the earth might provide to them.

  There was always that first little resistance to his push into her mind. She hadn’t quite figured out how to be open mind-to-mind at all times, but she couldn’t resist the way he poured warmth into her once he touched her. His half of their soul cried out for hers, and hers answered. There was no more being alone, every shadow gone, and each time they shared minds, they both found it difficult to break apart.

  His blood surged hotly the moment they shared their intimate connection. He waited until the first rush passed and watched his heart, that he didn’t change the rhythm of hers. Deep in her veins, a pulse thrummed, keeping time to her heartbeat. She seemed to be concentrating on what should have been her own pulse.

  He stepped closer to her, dropped his hand on the back of her neck, and moved deeper into her mind. She was following something she understood, but he hadn’t quite grasped yet. He stayed still, waiting. He was a hunter and he had learned patience. Whatever was eluding him surely would come to him, there was no doubt in his mind.

  There it was. A tiny irregular beat inside her pulse. He listened intently.

  It’s not right, Riley said. This is strange. Something is very wrong here. Feel the way my blood moves in my veins. It’s very faint, but there is something pulling me toward the edge of the cliffs, over to the left. I think he was there . . .

  She broke off, shaking her head, and turned to look around her. A small grove of trees was off to the left, branches swaying slightly.

  I would know if he was here.

  You’re right. It wasn’t him, but his blood was here. A distance so as not to disturb the occupants, but someone or something is watching.

  Dax pushed a brushing of air that would feel like a touch on Riordan’s shoulder to warn him. He switched to the common Carpathian mind link. We are not alone.

  The watcher was no doubt following the movement of Riordan’s hands as he set the safeguards over his home in the city, rendering those inside vulnerable.

  You are certain of this? Riordan didn’t stop the motion of his hands, but he set the weaves in odd patterns.

  Riley is certain of it, and that’s good enough for me. I catch a faint trail, but it isn’t Mitro. Riley says his blood is here, Dax informed the other Carpathian.

  He had taken both Jubal’s and Gary’s memories, but he had not done so with Riordan. Memories were sacred to each Carpathian male. Sometimes honor was kept only with memories. He felt handicapped by his lack of knowledge of what had transpired in the history of his people. Gary had the most knowledge, but he was human and didn’t have the data required for centuries of fighting vampires or what information the hunters had on them or the tricks they used.

  Riley trembled beneath his fingers, and Dax started a slow massage. Just continue what you’re doing, sivamet. We will find it, this watcher. Can you track the blood without the watcher?

  Her mind moved against his and once again he experienced that strange weakness in the vicinity of his heart. She didn’t protest, or fall apart, but kept her hands deep in the soil, her head down as if listening intently.

  Yes, I think there have been others, back in the same grove of trees. More than one, but a few days ago. The trail is very faint, but if I listen to my blood, the call is there.

  Dax continued massaging her neck with one hand, the other down at his side, hand open, subtly moving, shifting the wind just slightly, bringing it rushing up from the ravine, swirling around the grove of trees and gusting straight to him.

  Second tree from the left. High up in the branches. A rodent. Mitro’s using him the way the mages used familiars, he informed Riordan.

  I’ve got him now, Riordan acknowledged, dropping his hands as if he had finished and thought his home safe.

  You’ll have to come with us, Dax whispered softly into Riley’s mind. If you don’t, he’ll know we’re onto him. He had to keep reminding himself she wasn’t Carpathian, but she didn’t flinch, although she didn’t attempt to hide her silent reluctance.

  She took the hand he extended to her and got up, taking her time dusting off her jeans. He knew she was giving herself time to compose and steel herself for whatever was to come.

  “I’m ready,” she said aloud, flashing a smile to him and then to Riordan. “Let’s go. I’ll do the shopping. Those boys are starving, and I doubt the two of you know much about grocery shopping.” She even managed a small laugh at her own joke.

  He tangled his fingers with hers, amazed at her playful tone, not overly loud; in fact, he wasn’t certain the watcher could hear her, but it didn’t matter. She acted perfectly natural. He quickened
his pace without seemingly doing so. Riley fell a step behind, but he appeared not to notice, leaning toward Riordan to say something in a low voice as they walked down the winding path to get to the vehicle parked in the left-side garage nearest that small grove of trees. She tucked in behind him in that way he was coming to love, her hand slipping into his back pocket as she matched his pace, using his body as a shield.

  It’s tracking your lifemate, Riordan warned. It isn’t looking at either of us, just her.

  Dax was careful not to look at the creature directly, but he’d already seen the beady eyes glowing bright through the foliage and the stare was directed solely at Riley. Mitro believes she is someone else and he fears her. He rejected his lifemate Arabejila and he intended to kill her, but he couldn’t force himself to finish the job. She is the one person he can’t kill, so he’ll send every minion he has to do the job for him, Dax explained.

  That thing is looking at me, Riley hissed in his mind.

  She sounded scared. Her hand transferred from his back pocket to the small of his back. She bunched his shirt tightly in her fist.

  It will be all right.

  That’s easy enough for you to say. It isn’t looking at you.

  He suppressed a smile. Stop looking at it.

  It has big teeth.

  Of course it does. It is meant to kill you. I’m certain the claws are of equal size. They were in striking distance now.

  She thumped him hard on his back. Do you think you’ll ever get the concept of watering down the danger level?

  I don’t understand what that means. He was genuinely puzzled. She was half serious, half joking, but he didn’t like the idea that he might be failing her on some level. How did one “water down”—whatever that was—danger? Any creature a vampire used to do his bidding was extremely dangerous, especially one that wanted to kill his lifemate.

  Of course you don’t.

  There was a hint of laughter in her voice. Arabejila had a gift allowing a Carpathian male who had lost all color and emotion to feel some faint sensation, but the times he managed to feel something, the reaction had been so faint and distant, he’d never been entirely certain whether or not the sentiment had been merely a long-ago memory, or if he’d really experienced feeling. Certainly not humor. Arabejila had always had a sense of humor, but he hadn’t always understood her laughter.

  Now, with Riley, humor had become fun. He liked teasing her. And he liked that she teased him. He was coming to understand humor, and hers always showed itself at unexpected times.

  It’s getting ready to attack.

  Dax could tell Riordan’s voice in her head startled Riley, but the only sign was the way she bunched the back of his shirt tighter in her fist and pressed her forehead against his back, making herself smaller. All the while, she stayed in step with him.

  When I say, let go and crouch low.

  He was in her head and heard her silent protest, but she nodded several times indicating she heard him. She was afraid. Really afraid. He was used to Arabejila, who always followed his orders without question. Like him, she didn’t fear death. Both had lost all hope of a lifemate, and knew death was now a matter of honor. Now, he had everything to live for, but fear was something he wasn’t familiar with.

  I would not allow you to come to harm, Riley. It was a simple truth. He couldn’t allow such a thing. She was his lifemate, his world, light to his darkness and there was no possible way he would let anything hurt her. Arabejila understood that . . .

  If you compare me to that woman one more time, I’m going to hit you over the head with a very large object. I’m not Arabejila, and I’m not wild about the comparisons.

  He swore her teeth snapped together just shy of his skin. She might have torn his shirt.

  I think the dragon would be a good thing right now. Maybe you ought to call him out. He’s big and he’s got teeth, too.

  She was royally angry at him, but again, he didn’t really understand why. Lifemates were much more difficult than he’d ever considered. And the dragon? She wanted the Old One to protect her? He felt a faint stirring of an emotion he couldn’t quite catch or identify.

  All the while he tried to puzzle out her illogical reasoning, he kept most of his attention centered on the rodent. Small flames had begun to burn in the beady, glowing eyes. Muscles bunched as it gathered itself in wait for its prey to get close enough.

  Now. He gave the command as the watcher leapt from the branches, bursting into the open, hurtling itself through the air straight at Riley.

  She dropped low, releasing his shirt as scales slipped over his skin, that hard armor protecting him, and he swung at the creature with a hammerlike fist. He connected with the long snout, smashing through razor-sharp barred teeth, and driving the fangs back down the rodent’s throat.

  The rodent flew backward, right into Riordan’s hands. He caught the watcher around the neck and held tight, staring into the flame-filled eyes. Deep inside those red flames burned black hatred. Riordan only caught the briefest of glimpses in the midst of the swirling, leaping towers of fire raging inside the eyes of the beast.

  He’s shadowed, Dax, you were right.

  The creature snarled and ripped at Riordan.

  Now, but watch for the sliver to try to save itself.

  Before the shadowed rodent could sink its claws into Riordan’s skin, the hunter hurled it into the air. Dax summoned dragon fire, opened his mouth and breathed a torrent of flames to engulf the watcher, burning it fast. The smell was terrible, noxious, even poisonous. The snarling turned to a terrible scream. Riley put her hands over her ears and held her breath.

  Both hunters didn’t take their eyes off the burning rodent as it fell to the ground. Shockingly, it got to its feet and staggered toward Riley. Dax sent another sweeping torrent of flames at the creature, the force so strong the watcher rolled over and over away from Riley. Burning fast, squealing, the rodent opened its mouth and coughed out a small sliver of darkness, a mere shadow. The shadow fell to the ground and began burrowing deep. Without the shadow of Mitro keeping it alive, the hapless creature burned hot and bright, turning to nothing but ash.

  “Stop it, Riley,” Dax commanded the moment the sliver landed on the ground. “Don’t let it use the soil to get away. Drive it back to the surface.”

  She plunged her hands into the soil without hesitation, although her fear was tangible. He didn’t need their mind bond to feel it. Her murmured chant was low but strong and firm without hesitation. Mother Earth answered her child.

  At once the ground rippled, rolled and then shuddered. Dirt burst into the air, a geyser spewing high as the sliver of evil was rejected. The wind shifted away from the Carpathians. Dax and Riordan both leapt through the spray of soil, eyes trained on the single dark shadow as it was taken in the direction of the trees.

  Once more Dax called the fire, inhaling deeply, drawing on the reserve in his belly, and sending the stream of flames directly into that sliver of darkness. Screams of rage and pain rent the air. Dogs howled throughout the neighborhood, the alarm spreading throughout the city. Car alarms went off. Sirens sounded. Windows shattered in some homes and businesses. The promise of retaliation—of vengeance—came as the unholy noise faded away.

  Riley knelt with her hands over her ears, head down. Riordan checked to make certain both the sliver of evil and the creature were dead.

  “It’s over,” Dax said, hurrying to Riley’s side. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, pulling her into the shelter of his body.

  Riley leaned into him for a brief moment, taking the comfort he offered. He wrapped his arm around her, nearly crushing her to him, inhaling, drawing her deep into his lungs. Her scent wiped out the repulsive, offensive stench permeating the air around them.

  “What was that?” She rest
ed her head on his chest, betraying nerves by the nervous little strokes of one hand over his heart.

  “Mitro created a watcher by putting a small sliver of himself into the creature so he could see what it did. That way he could send it where he wanted, have total command, and obtain information at very little risk to himself,” Dax explained, bringing one hand up to the nape of her neck to gently ease the tension from her.

  She turned her face up to his. “You live in a very scary world. What did he hope to gain?”

  “Clearly he was having someone watch either the Carpathian hunters or Jasmine.”

  Over her head he could see Riordan once again weaving new safeguards around his home. This time there would be no watcher able to report back to Mitro the exact patterns of the wards, knowledge of which would have essentially given his minions free entrance into Riordan’s house. Now, it would be nearly impossible for anyone wishing harm to gain admittance.

  “You believe he’s after Jasmine.” Riley made it a statement.

  “Don’t you?”

  Riley stepped back, her eyes meeting his. “Absolutely. He’s after her child for some reason and we’re going to have to find out why, Dax, and stop him. He’s a serial killer. You can call him anything you want, but in the end, he seems to take great pleasure in torturing and murdering innocent people. He’s ritualistic in his killings.”

  “He wants others to think that, Riley. The rituals are put in place to impress his followers. He wants them to worship him and to do that, he demands his sacrifices.”

  Riley sighed. “If there is a faction of young, lost Goth kids that he’s impressed, then he’s building an army, a cult, young people looking for answers and strengths, somewhere to belong when they don’t fit in. Believe me, Dax, there are so many runaways and throwaways looking for a home, and they’ll do anything for the right charismatic leader. They’re lost souls, and he’s collecting them.”