Dark Demon 16

by Christine Feehan

  Listen to me, Natalya. This thing is legendary. I have only heard of them and their skills. I have never faced one. But even if you were a seasoned hunter at full strength it is said that no one can hope to win a battle with a shadow warrior. We thought them long gone from this world.

  Natalya watched as the whirling cloud of vapor stood fully upright. Most of the time, the creature appeared to be nothing more than smoke, but there were moments she caught a brief glimpse of armor. The flames in the sunken eyes burned madly as the creature looked around the room. All the while the smoke was in constant motion, swirls of gray and black that seemed no more than a vague transparent film.

  Self-preservation was strong in her and Natalya looked longingly at the drape-covered window. Why isn't he attacking?

  Vikirnoff could lie passive, conserving his strength in order to have one chance at saving Natalya. There was no sense in wasting time arguing with her. She was strong-willed and he doubted if the bond between lifemates would even allow her to leave on her own. That bond, coupled with her personality, would make it impossible. He had to wait for an opportunity to use everything he had to save her life. Legend says movement attracts them. He is not paying any attention to you, but he searches for me.

  The shadow was moving through the room slowly. Once, the gray smoke passed over Natalya and the thing hesitated, but moved on. Only the ancient wise ones used the shadow warriors.

  There was only one ancient wise one capable of commanding the shadow warrior, Natalya.

  Her heart sank. Xavier. She was well aware of the legendary rumor that she knew was a fact. Xavier, her grandfather, the dark mage, had been the one to create the weapon. Unfortunately she didn't know how they could be destroyed. She lifted her chin. Perhaps she was somehow responsible for this attack.

  Taking a deep breath, she reached for her sword and in one smooth motion, stepped in front of the near-helpless Carpathian.

  What do you think you are doing? His breath left his body in a rush of fear. His chest lifted and fell and that small action combined with Natalya's movements caused the shadow

  warrior to swivel its head directly around toward him, the flaming eyes glowing with fervor for the kill.

  Don't talk. I can't be distracted. She was already sweating, not a good sign.

  Natalya watched the insubstantial shadow closely. The warrior raised its sword in the traditional manner. She raised hers in answer.

  Vikirnoff watched her, his heart in his throat. She appeared perfectly balanced, her body light and graceful. Rather than a linear pattern, she moved with circular, gliding footwork, deflecting the warrior's sword as it arced toward Vikirnoff. Metal clashed on metal and sparks flew. Natalya danced away, slicing at the shadow as she glided once more directly into the path between Vikirnoff and the warrior. Her sword sliced through empty air.

  The warrior turned directly toward Natalya. He grew in stature and substance, taking on a much more solid and powerful form. He towered over her, the flickering red of his eyes, tracking her every movement.

  Vikirnoff forced his body to move. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed, every bit of strength of will to overcome the gripping paralysis in order to bring his arm up and wave it in the air. It only lasted a few seconds and the arm flopped lifelessly across his chest, but the warrior turned immediately toward him, drawn by the movement.

  The shadow glided with astonishing speed, sword whistling toward Vikirnoff. Natalya deflected the strike and answered, a blur of motion, her hair crackling, the color going as black as midnight and her eyes burning a bright blue, as she spun around the warrior, sword slicing completely through the shadow at least three times.

  This isn't working. He's worse than good old Freddie. Think, Natalya, you're good at this sort of thing. Think of what to do, she admonished herself.

  He's gaining strength with the enemy. Do you feel it?

  There has to be a way to defeat them. I refuse to believe they're invincible. She would not believe it. There had to be a way. In truth, she hadn't felt the growing power in the warrior, she was too busy trying to keep Vikirnoff alive. The shadow warrior wasn't trying to kill her. It merely saw her as a nuisance in its way. She continually intercepted the warrior's killing blows, preventing him from destroying Vikirnoff. The hunter was right, though. As the swords came together, her arm and body nearly went completely numb from the force he was generating.

  You cannot kill what is already dead.

  What did the legends say, Vikirnoff? She stepped in front of the bed again, fending off the flashing sword.

  This time when the blades met, she stumbled under the sheer vigor of the blow.

  Stop all movement.

  If I stop, this father of all Freddies kills you. That's unacceptable. And before you get too excited by that and think I don't want you dead, I just plain hate losing.

  It is too many hours before sunset. I cannot aid you with physical fighting.

  Natalya parried another blow and took several slices at the armor-plated warrior. Her blade moved through smoke. Physical fighting. The words repeated over and over in her head. It was impossible to fight a shadow warrior and win.

  What are they made of? Vikirnoff, hurry! What are they made of?

  They have no substance. They are like Carpathians when we turn to mist. Small molecules, vapor, air. Even water. Dust. Whatever is around to form the particles is used. But he is dead, Natalya. Already dead. You cannot kill him.

  It has to be more than that. It has life, essence. A spirit. Natalya parried another blow and sliced futilely through gray and black smoke.

  The spirit of a lost warrior, taken from the grave without permission and forced to obedience without rest. That's what a shadow warrior is, right? she asked.

  Vikirnoff again made a supreme effort to redirect the shadow warrior's attention back to him and away from Natalya. If it slays me, remain absolutely still. It will ignore you and leave.

  Natalya deflected the blade of the shadow warrior from Vikirnoff's throat and sliced through the transparent body once again, whirling away from the bed so that the warrior tracked her across the room away from the hunter. Stop being so noble. You set my teeth on edge. This thing is really making me angry. Trust me, that is not a good thing. They're already dead. Think, Natalya. Call on your skills. She continued to instruct herself, staying very focused on the warrior.

  I'm telling you it feeds off energy. The more you move, the more emotion you give it, the stronger the thing becomes. It's growing in stature, but not form.

  I have a plan. Close your eyes and keep them closed. You'll have to trust me.

  Vikirnoff immediately merged his mind with hers as she spun in a graceful circle, a blur of motion as she kept the warrior's attention fully focused on her. Even in the dire circumstances, Vikirnoff found her a beautiful, deadly combination. Grace and power, perfectly balanced, she moved with blurring speed, spinning in circles across the room, blade flying as she gained the covered balcony door. Her gaze shifted once to him, even as she parried another blow from the warrior. Vikirnoff saw her entire body vibrate with the force of the shadow warrior's strike.

  Your eyes! It was the only warning Natalya was going to give him. If Vikirnoff wouldn't listen to her, even in the midst of a dangerous situation, that was on him. She gritted her teeth and caught at the drape, jerking the heavy covering down. Bright light spilled into the room through the glass of the French doors.

  Instant agony seized her, abruptly cut off. She deflected another blow, her feet dancing in an age-old pattern, whirling and slicing as she glanced toward Vikirnoff. She could feel the light eating at her flesh, burning her eyes, but it had to be a million times worse for him. Cursing, she abandoned her plan and fought her way back to his side. Inwardly she damned herself for a fool. The shadow warrior gained strength with every moment while she grew weary. The hunter was going to die anyway. She was dumb, dumb, dumb, to keep fighting for his life.

  Her sword whistled through e
mpty space when she should have decapitated the warrior. His answering blade narrowly missed her waist and jarred her arm when she deflected it. She grabbed the quilt with one hand and yanked it over Vikirnoff's body to cover him completely.

  The shadow warrior went after the movement of the quilt, drawn by the scent of the hunter. The deadly sword thrust into the quilt and a fountain of blood erupted. Natalya's breath hissed out in fury from between her clenched teeth. She lunged at the warrior, trying to drive him back with her shoulder, but she fell through his body, staggering to keep her balance and whirling to face him.

  Stop your heart and lungs! It was a demand, accompanied by a strong push of compulsion at Vikirnoff. Her fear for Vikirnoff amounted to terror. She slammed her sword again and again against the warrior's, preventing his renewed attack on the hunter.

  Her heart sank. They were both dead. She'd killed them with her confidence. What had she been thinking? She knew the effects of sunlight on the Carpathian race. Blisters were forming on her skin. She knew Vikirnoff would be fried even with the small exposure he'd suffered. And all the while her strength was draining. She couldn't fight the shadow warrior forever.

  You need the door opened. With every ounce of his last remaining strength, Vikirnoff used telekinetic power to undo the safeguards and the locks to thrust the balcony door wide open. Your plan is a good one. A warrior's luck to you.

  She recognized the words from somewhere as a formal ritual between hunters. Somehow the words calmed her mind and allowed her to think clearly again. She began a graceful, spiraling attack, constantly in motion, drawing the shadow warrior across the room, away from Vikirnoff and towards the open door. Her voice began a soft murmur as she drew on her legacy, the powers of earth, wind and spirit. She needed luck, more than luck. She needed a miracle.

  «Hear me now, dark one, great warrior torn from your resting place, while I call on earth,

  wind, fire, water, and spirit.»

  The shadow warrior lowered his sword and was still for the first time since he had been revealed to her.

  «I call each to me and bind them to me and with them, I invoke the right of shadow law. The dark mage's blood runs in me. Heed what I say. I command the wind»-she flung her arms into the air and brought the wind howling into the room-«to come to me, to carry my warrior home.»

  The shadow warrior remained standing, sword at ready, his glowing eyes fixed on Vikirnoff. Well, at least she had his attention. She knew spells, thousands of them. She just had to come up with the right combination.

  She faced the warrior and seemed to grow in stature. Her hair crackled with electricity as she lifted her arms toward the shadowy figure. Most things were bound by blood. She could do this if she just thought it through. «By shadow law, through ancient's blood, I claim my right by mage's blood.»

  The warrior jerked as if she'd struck him. His fiery eyes shifted from the bed and focused completely on her. Natalya's heart rate increased dramatically. She wanted his attention, but he was intimidating. Her hand tightened around her sword as she sorted through ancient spells for words that might release him. «That which was brought forth, I now return, by power of air and fire that burns.»

  The wind increased, tugging at the gray smoke that made up the shadow warrior's form. The flames in the eyes leapt and burned, so that sparks actually flickered in the swirling smoke. The sight was terrifying.

  It is working. Vikirnoff, holding the merge, saw her brain functioning at high speed, sorting and discarding spells, turning words over and over in her mind, rearranging them and putting them together. He was astonished and awed by her amazing ability with so many ancient teachings.

  Natalya swallowed hard and pressed on. I need to send the warrior back to the nether world and seal him there for good.

  I feel your power. It is alive in the room and surrounding him.

  Natalya took a deep breath. She could do this. She was born to do this! «Shadow and dust shall be reclaimed, earth sealing the tomb from whence you came.» She was gaining confidence. This was her realm of expertise like no other in her. «Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, warrior return, breathe your last.» Her voice swelled with command. «Air, earth, fire, water, hear my voice, obey my order, thrice around your grave do bound, evil sink into the ground. I now invoke the law of three, this is my will, so mote it be.»

  The shadow warrior stared at her a long moment with his fiery eyes. He bowed slightly

  and gave her a small salute with his sword. The wind rushed through the room howling, reaching for the warrior, dragging the smoke and dust out the door into the air.

  The shadow warrior was carried away, his spirit set free at last, his insubstantial form blown into a million molecules and scattered across the sky.

  «May you find eternal peace in another realm while the wind takes what is no longer yours to the four corners of the world so your rest may never again be disturbed.»

  Natalya dropped her sword and sagged against the wall, her arms aching, eyes streaming, skin burning in the glare of the sun. She found herself sobbing, her chest tight and painful, throat raw. Her body felt leaden, on fire, stretched beyond all physical boundaries. Worse than that was the emotion churning through her. Everything was all mixed up, swirling in a black eddy and clouding reason.

  Natalya.

  She closed her eyes at the sheer intimacy he gave her name. Ainaak enyem, why do you weep when you have destroyed what no one else has ever defeated? You are an amazing woman. A true warrior and I can give you no higher praise.

  His tone held admiration, respect, but most of all a dark, purring sensuality that turned her insides to mush. She couldn't look at him without feeling weak-kneed and stupid. She hated to be so confused and emotional and weeping in front of him like the little slip of a girl he had called her.

  You need to shut your heart and lungs down. She wiped at the tears on her face and forced herself to her feet. «I'm not giving you any more blood and you're losing it everywhere.»

  I cannot shut down my heart when you are crying like your heart is broken.

  «I absolutely refuse to play Juliet to your Romeo. It's just adrenaline overload, that's all.» She pulled the balcony door closed and locked it, trying to find her normal bravado and rid herself of the emotional storm.

  It is impossible to lie to me, although perhaps you are good at lying to yourself and do not really know your own mind.

  Natalya yanked the drapes over the door, once again blocking out the light. The relief was tremendous. She stood briefly, eyes closed, gathering her strength. She had never been so tired. She wanted to lie down and sleep forever. «How bad is the wound this time?»

  He cut my thigh. I was grateful his aim was not a few inches higher.

  «Which means you're bleeding all over the place again, aren't you?» She hurried to his side and pulled back the quilt, ashamed that she had taken so much time to recover from her

  fight with the shadow warrior.

  Vikirnoff was covered in blisters, his skin raw and angry-looking. Blood bubbled up from the wound on his thigh. Natalya didn't give herself time to think. She was already on automatic, pressing her hands to the wound, looking around for the wooden bowl with the remaining soil Slavica had left to refresh the packs.

  «You're a mess,» she said.

  So are you.

  She ducked her head, preparing the soil, avoiding his too-intense gaze. She knew she looked like Frankenstein's bride. And he didn't have to sound so gentle. She was going to cry again if he kept it up. It was easier to be angry. She didn't even know what the hell she was crying over, but she couldn't seem to stop.

  Why would you think such thoughts'? You are a beautiful woman and you must know it. Look at yourself through my eyes.

  She tried to crush the sudden thrill his observation caused. She was so confused. So upset. Her world had turned upside down. Everything feminine in her responded to her greatest enemy.

  You are angry with me because you think I did not trus
t you enough to stop my heart and lungs. That is not so, Natalya. I have relied on my own judgment for well over a thousand years.

  «Yeah, I loved your judgment.» She rolled her eyes, both hands on her hips. «Your big plan was to die so the 'little slip of girl,' who, by the way, saved your ass yet again, could turn tail and ran! I can't imagine how you managed to survive on your own all that time. It's a miracle.»

  You did not allow me to finish. I could not leave you without my protection, little though I had to give. It is impossible for me. Your skills are apparent, but I have never heard of a shadow warrior being defeated. I could not go quietly to sleep and abandon you to such danger.

  She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. He sounded so sincere. So caring. Thinking of her when he was ravaged by the sun and had suffered yet another wound. She didn't answer him. She worked on his leg in silence, stopping the flow of blood before separating her spirit from her body and healing him from the inside out. She concentrated wholly on the work, welcoming the chance not to think about what was happening between the hunter and her.