Excitement and fear pumped through him, the twin emotions both exhilarating and frightening. Soft and small, her hands cupped his face. Declan sizzled in a breath, the flesh beneath her fingers burning on contact, only to feel freezing cold a second later. He swallowed hard and stared into her eyes.
Beneath her glasses, her eyes widened. The black eating up the blue until she almost appeared more a vampire with onyx eyes than a dragon. Declan stilled as her stare tore through him like a flesh-eating wind. Realized it let her see things, memories and feelings he kept buried deep, perhaps even from himself. Doc saw it all. He knew it. He felt it.
She continued to stare and every muscle in Declan's body, from his face to his toes, tensed in reply. His body literally vibrated with the demanding impulse to withdraw, to shut his eyes and disconnect from her.
Now!
Instead, Declan forced his anxiety to subside. Pulling in a breath, he gripped the arms of his chair and fought against his instincts. Forced himself to open up to her. Willing to do anything, let her see everything, if it might help him save Alexia.
Before he could exhale, Doc was careening backward, her hands grasping the edge of his desk for balance. "Sorry," she murmured, lifting a hand to adjust her glasses. "I didn't mean to do that. Kestrel and I have been working on my control. But sometimes it slips."
"It's fine, Doc," Declan reassured her, even as his heart beat a frenzied tempo in his chest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Did you see...did you see how to help her?"
At her silence, Declan opened his eyes, focusing at once on her cobalt gaze. At the fear swirling in their depths, icy fingers coiled around his spine before fisting his gut in their piercing grip. "Please," he whispered. "I need to know."
"I--I..." Doc's eyes softened and she shook her head. "I'm sorry."
"Why? What did you see?"
"Nothing," she said, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her lab coat. "I mean, I don't know what I saw. It doesn't work like that. I feel what you feel. See what you see. Not the future."
An odd combination of relief and disappointment sliced through him. He sighed. A defeated lump sank in his chest, dragging his heart down with it. He knew he should be focused on getting the Draco Crystal back, on fighting to save his flock from certain annihilation. Yet he couldn't get his mind off saving Alexia.
Right now his only plan was to fight Lotharus and his soldiers on their ground. Hope that, like the last time he'd battled the soldiers, he'd be given the chance to save Alexia. He'd have to spend time unraveling the mystery of the damned crystal and how to destroy it once and for all after he knew she was safe. He frowned, thinking about her note. Found himself wondering if perhaps Alexia didn't already have the answer to that question.
As if sensing his despair, Doc leaned over him, grabbing a book off his desk. "But you're right to look to the crystal. That is the key. So, this crystal has the power to rule all or destroy one, right?" she asked, thumbing through the pages. "Well, that could mean a couple of things...."
"Doc, please," he said.
"...our two races, naturally."
"Doc."
"But it could also..."
"Sparrow." He said her given name and spoke firmly enough this time that she listened. Mindful of how delicate Doc could be in demeanor and frame, Declan gently placed his hand atop hers, stilling her frantic movements and speech. "Listen. I need you to go to Kestrel. Tell him I need everyone, and I mean everyone, to ready for battle, and fast."
She blinked over at him, not only meeting but holding his gaze. "But we can do this. I can help you," she said in a small voice. "I want to help you."
Declan smiled up at her as best he could. He had always adored Doc and would never be able to thank her enough for healing his warrior captain and friend, Kestrel, after the battle that had taken his parents. But he knew what he had to do and he didn't need her here to do it. "You have."
After a moment, Doc nodded and stood upright. "I'll come back if I find anything new," she said, heading for the door.
"Thank you," he said, before turning back to his desk, to this impossible task before him.
Propping his elbows on the table, he rested his fore head in his hands. Beneath him, the blueprints of the horde's catacombs stared up at him, mocking him. Even with the locator, he wasn't sure he could find Alexia in that maze. The dragons only had on file this makeshift design of the horde's home. It wasn't complete by any stretch of the imagination. And by the sound of it, the vampires themselves didn't know what lay in the bowels of their dwellings.
"...plans to kill her at midnight when she ascends and steal her power."
Declan peeked up from under his arms. It was nearly ten. Two hours. Two hours and she'd be gone. Somewhere he couldn't bring her back.
Gods, he couldn't think like that. Not now. Helpless anger rose inside him. Images of her flashed in his mind, and the scent of her filled his nose. Collapsing, he laid his head on his crossed arms. Hoping he was tired enough for sleep to blanket him. Consumed enough to once again dream of Alexia.
It seemed he'd barely shut his eyes and Declan had his answer. As it had before, that damn thick fog he'd become so familiar with the past few days collected and then parted in a whoosh like a stage curtain, revealing whatever it wanted him to see.
Unnatural darkness, cold and wet, hit him first. Having lived amongst the stones all his life, he knew the sensation well. However, it was the rest of the surroundings he had trouble comprehending. Frowning, he tried to take in as much of the scene as he could. Candles, hundreds of them, lit up every nook and cranny of the cave. Dozens of dark, hooded figures swayed, but there was no music. The low murmur of male voices thrummed in a constant drone.
What was he seeing? Where was the rest of the horde? This second thought snowballed on top of the first and Declan almost willed himself awake. And then he saw Alexia.
Oh, gods, he saw her.
"Alex." Her name tore from him in a sob. She stood on the raised dais, beside a large stone table. Her arms shackled over her head on the wooden pillar she was bound to. Even from this distance, he could tell she was injured. Dark blood stained her neck and chest, soaking her exquisite brown evening gown and soiling her light hair.
When her head lifted, the look of cornered desperation and agony on her face was enough to send him running for her. However, he barely got five steps before his entire body slammed into an invisible wall. Knocked off his feet from the force, he collapsed backward with an unforgiving thud. Pain shot up his spine, but he didn't feel it. He didn't feel anything except fear, sending wave after wave of terror through his veins.
Lotharus emerged and the hooded figures began cheering. Declan scrambled to his feet. The crowd began a low chant that grew louder with each word. Lotharus spoke but Declan could not hear over the now deafening mantra. Frantic, Declan glanced from one corner of the room to the next, looking for something, someone to help.
A soft blue light began emanating from Alexia, coiling around her, engulfing her. At first, Declan thought his vision had failed, or the low light of the cave was playing tricks on him. But Lotharus smiled, and his chant grew louder. Alexia's body jerked, fighting against whatever force ripped through her. Sweat dotted her brow and her body writhed in pain.
Declan pounded his fists against the invisible wall keeping her from him, shouting a warning when Lotharus unsheathed a gleaming silver broadsword. Her black eyes flew wide open, but she made no struggle to fight the undeniable fate looming over her. The notion she'd given up lingered for only a moment before all thought fled completely. Lotharus jabbed, skewering the weapon through her middle. The blue light shot through the weapon like a current of lightning, buzzing straight to the crystal he now held in his outstretched hand. After the last pulsing stream left her body, she fell limp in the rope bindings. Lotharus bent, ducking a goblet in the bucket beneath her. He hoisted the crystal in one hand and the chalice of her blood in the other before downing its content
s.
Declan took a step back, refusing to believe any of this could be happening. The visual proof before him refused to register in his breaking heart.
Alexia's dead.
The truth struck him like a death blow, hard and strong. Although he knew he'd find no physical evidence of the pain tearing through him, he looked down, half expecting to see a sword sticking out of his chest. Instead, the image of her hung and slaughtered burned behind his retinas.
Collapsing to his knees, he cradled his head in his hands and allowed the darkness, the sorrow, the loss to swallow him.
He awoke with a start, sending papers flying off his desk. His hand unconsciously went to cover the pain still radiating in his chest.
"Alex," he gasped, his eyes scouring the scattered desk for his clock.
The flashing red numbers nearly made him weep.
Twelve-thirty.
He was too late.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
TALLON PULLED THE WOOL sweater over her bent knees, wrapping her arms around them. Tilting her head, she took in the sweeping view of the jagged, snow-capped mountains stabbing through the blanket of dark clouds before her. Bursts of icy wind shot through the various holes in the worn knit, blowing freezing air over her body. She was numb, and not from the cold. The hollow nothingness born the night her parents had been caged seeped from within until it consumed everything, even her will to care if she would one day be able to pull herself out of the black hole her life seemed to be spiraling into. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to and the utterly pathetic truth of her situation infuriated her.
While Declan's feelings for the vampire shouldn't affect her, they did. Call her childish. Call her selfish. She wanted her life back, wanted her mom and dad, wanted her brother back. A long sigh escaped her and she closed her eyes.
Not ten minutes ago, Declan had left the lair like a man crazed. She'd pleaded with him to let her help him, to let her go with him. Although she may not care if that vampire lived or died, he did. And both of them had suffered so much these past weeks, part of her was willing to do whatever it took to keep him from feeling any more pain.
But he had shut down, closed her out. When she'd stood right here on this very spot and held his face, forcing him to stare at her, his eyes seemed void, resolute in the task he'd set upon himself. She saw the look of a haunted, desperate man and feared what he would do if he found the princess dead as prophesied.
If she were honest with herself, that burning question was the reason she sat out in the cold in the middle of the night. She was scared. Scared she'd never see her brother again. After all, she'd only just gotten him back. Now, she feared, even if he did return, nothing would be the same. A wall had grown between them since that night they'd stolen the crystal, and she couldn't figure out how to knock it down.
The view before her blurred, her vision swimming in unshed tears. Her chin quivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Giving up the fight, she let the tears fall. Her cheeks stung as the cold night air froze the liquid to her face.
Gods, why did she let him leave? The answer came at once. He'd asked her to let him go alone, and she'd obeyed. For the second time in her life, she'd yielded and granted his request without a fight. And now she was regretting it. Last time she'd given in to his demand to take care of things alone, all hell had broken loose and she'd nearly lost him. Something in her soul told her this time they would not fare any better.
A snowflake landed on her nose. Tallon sniffled and tilted her chin to the sky to shake it off. In the distance, a glinting purple mass caught her eye. It hovered just above the lower ridge, swirling in and out of the white snowfall in an almost circle-eight pattern. At first, Tallon tried to ignore it. Yet, as it continued its lazy dance around the mountain, she found her gaze drifting in its general direction. Or more precisely, his direction. It was Griffon, the hunter. It had to be. He was the only purple-hued dragon of such size who would dare brave this horrid weather for a flight.
At the thought of him, undeniable warmth shimmied up her spine. She shuddered and hunkered farther into her worn-out clothes. Although she could not explain it, Tallon found herself wondering more and more about the hunter. Where he came from, why he left, why he never spoke of his past and, most of all, why he was so haunted and alone. The answers to those questions burned hotter in recent days, and like a moth to flame she flew closer and closer to his light.
Tallon could not place or explain it, but she felt a connection to him somehow. As if he and he alone not only saw but recognized the blackness inside her. As if he knew soul-shattering loss, viscerally and bone deep, and yet unlike her had the ability to mend the pieces.
As Tallon watched him spin and arc in the sky with the deftness of an eagle and the beauty of an angel, for just a moment she forgot how miserable she was.
"There you are."
Tallon started at the voice, hastily sliding her fingers over her damp cheeks. She glanced up, annoyed to see Falcon rounding the cliff wall toward her. Normally, his presence would be a balm, a security blanket and pacifier when nothing else soothed her. But something inside her churned, wild and enraged. The fact that his handsome face appeared calm, his nerves weren't frayed to pieces and his heart wasn't blackened with loss nettled her.
"You shouldn't be out here at this hour."
"I can handle myself, thanks," she said, loathing the sarcasm evident in her voice.
A frown creased his brow and his smile fled. "I know you can. That's not what I meant. It's freezing out here. You could catch your death."
She opened her mouth, about to say she didn't care if she died out here of pneumonia or not, but thought better of it. Falcon had always been her touchstone, her rock. She wanted to upset him about as much as she wanted Declan to love that vampire.
When seconds and then minutes ticked past and she made no attempt to move, a loud male sigh sounded over the wind howling in her ears. "Why don't you come back inside with me?"
Tallon glanced up. She stared at the calloused hand reaching down for her. Thought about what he offered. Take his hand and walk inside. Move forward. Go on with life as normal. Without Declan.
A tide of anger and resentment swelled inside her. "Why don't you leave me alone," she snapped, pushing up to stand on her own.
He instantly turned, reaching for her. "Tal, I know you're hurting...."
She shooed his arm away, keeping distance between them. "You don't know anything about how I feel right now, so don't try to comfort me."
For a moment, Falcon didn't move. Then his outstretched hand fell to his side and his jaw tightened. The howling wind picked up strands of his dark hair, dancing the long strands along his handsome face. "You're scared of losing someone you love." His eyes bored into hers, too all-seeing, too beautiful. "Right now, I know exactly how that feels."
Her heart seized and all the air left her in a whoosh. Oh, gods. Not this again, not now. "Falcon, don't do this," she began, but he took a step toward her, and then another, the bare emotion in his eyes silencing her.
"Do what? Tell the woman I love how I feel? Tell her that it's killing me to sit idly by and watch her in pain? Tell her how impotent I feel to not be able to help, when everything inside me is screaming to do whatever I can to ease your ache?"
"Stop," she whispered. Knowing how much he sacrificed by voicing his feelings aloud cut her to the bone as effectively as his words. To realize with brutal agony that not long ago she would have been overjoyed to hear those very words fall from his lips devastated her.
More guilt, more pain.
Two emotions she did not need to feel any more of at the moment. In fact, she wished she didn't feel anything at all. Wished her body looked as broken as she felt. Briefly, she wondered if that was why she sat out here in the subzero temperatures, hoping to numb her outsides along with her insides.
"You don't want to hear me say it," Falcon continued, his calm voice deceptively masking the barely veiled pain etched on
his face. "You don't think you deserve my love or anyone else's." Hands curled around her upper arms, pulling her into his. "But you do," he said, shaking her slightly on the last syllable as if the act could jar her into believing him. "And if it takes forever for you to realize that, then I'm willing to wait that long."
"Stop." Tallon closed her eyes and shook her head. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think....
"I'll wait for you forever."
"Stop!" Tallon shouted, her chest heaving. "You don't love me, Falcon. You don't even know me. And you sure as hell can't fix me."
Pushing against his chest, she backed out of his hold. Falcon let her arms go without a fight. The hurt and confusion in his green eyes made her hate herself even more. To realize he offered everything that the unbroken and happy Tallon wanted yet this new Tallon could not fathom, shredded her soul.
Wrapping her arms around her chest, she shook her head and took one step back.
"Do yourself a favor and don't wait that long," she said, the soles of her worn boots sinking into the snow and the image of Falcon burning behind her eyes. "I don't love you, Falcon. Not now. Not ever."
The moment the last word fell from her lips, Tallon turned and ran back inside the mountain. Unsure if she'd said those words for Falcon's benefit or hers.
IN DRAGON FORM, Declan sank his talons into the same sandy beach where he'd taken Alexia that night she'd fallen off the cliff. Turning, he tipped his head and sniffed. Again, only faint traces of blood filled the air. Shaking his powerful shoulders, Declan shifted form. He closed his hand around the tracer dangling from his neck, snapping it free with one swift tug.
No matter what he thought he saw, he refused to yield to a dream. He had to believe she yet lived. Following the faint but steady beat of red on the tracer, Declan took the hidden stairs he'd spotted the last time he'd stood on this beach. A soft breeze sent a slight scent of the horde to his nose. Once at the top of the stairs, the rock leveled off and the moss fell away to sand. A secret beach with a crystal pool of water filled by a nearby waterfall stood before him, nothing more. Frantic, Declan held the tracer out before him and swept his arm in a wide arc. Squinting, he stared down at the device in his hand in defeat.
Shadow of the Vampire Page 21
