His transformation from being nearly dead to this commanding presence was shocking. His head was up, and he was striding purposefully to the door of the bus. Desari sat still, her heart pounding. She could not send him off unaided. He would have her strength and courage, her belief in him, and any other aid he should need. Her voice began the ancient chant, as old as time, something they were born with, the memory already imprinted on them. It was soothing and peaceful, and her unique voice strengthened the power of it.
Julian listened to the notes as he made his way out into the night. Her voice was so pure, it pushed aside the effects of the vampire’s poison enough for him to focus. Outside, shadows were moving under the trees, ringing the bus.
Julian breathed a sigh of relief. Not another vampire but merely the dead one’s enslaved minions, the undead’s ghouls. These former humans had tremendous strength and cunning—the vampire’s blood ran in their veins—but they were not immortal. They slept in sewers and graveyards to escape the deadly sun, ate living flesh and blood. They lived to serve their master, hoping that one day immortality would be bestowed on them. Julian knew such a thing to be impossible. They were already dead, mere puppets, living only by the vampire’s whim and tainted blood.
He stepped out of the bus and faced these living dead. Their target would be Desari. Though their master was destroyed, they had no choice but to carry out his orders to acquire her, and they would be brutal in their rage and fear. Julian’s first task was to safeguard Desari, rigging the bus with the most powerful safeguards he was capable of weaving in the event the ghouls should defeat him in his weakened state. Darius would have to unravel what Julian had wrought.
Stall them until Darius gets here.
Julian heard the plea in Desari’s voice. She couldn’t bear him to be in any more pain.
Sing for me,
cara mia.
That is what keeps the pain at bay. I can do no other than what I do. You are my life. My only reason for existing. I will not fail to protect you. A storm then. I can bring in the mist, whatever you need. Allow me to take whatever burden from you I can.
She had no wish to argue with him or distract him from those that threatened. She could hear the dark murmurs, the rustling of leaves and the breaking of twigs beneath their foul feet. The ghouls were advancing on Julian.
Sing for me,
piccola.
Your brother will send aid in advance of his arrival. Be ready for him to use your sight.
Desari had to be satisfied with that. She began the ancient chant once more as she moved to the window to be able to see whatever Darius asked of her. Julian looked so alone to her. Standing tall and straight, the wind whipping his hair around him, his body, so wracked with pain, relaxed and ready for the attack. Her pride in him grew.
Desari?
It was Darius, his voice calm and unexcited as always, filled with complete confidence. He sounded strong, and close by.
Tell me what is wrong with Julian.
Desari continued to sing for Julian but directed her thoughts toward her brother. She had been talking to him for so many centuries on their private mental path, she divided her attention with ease.
He says the vampire he battled was ancient, that its blood had powerful poison. Julian was wounded but he will not allow me to strengthen him through feeding. He is too weak to drive out the poison himself. He waits for you. You know what I will need,
Darius responded.
Prepare the bus with the necessary candles and herbs. Have the scents in the air when we dispose of those who now threaten you. Call to the others. We will need them to join with us in the healing ritual. Insist that Syndil join, as she has tremendous healing powers.
Darius broke off the contact with his sister and glided unseen and undetected above the circle of servants to the undead. Seven. This had indeed been a powerful ancient to sustain so many living dead on his blood at one time.
Darius felt a deep respect for the Carpathian standing his ground, looking every inch the intimidating hunter. The fact that he had not manufactured a clean shirt told Darius the extent of Julian’s weakness. Yet even with the pain and weakness, Julian was ready to fight.
Darius dropped out of the sky, shape-shifting as he touched the ground, silently springing on clawed feet straight at his prey. The large male leopard sank its fangs into the first ghoul’s throat, dispatching him with deadly efficiency. It dropped the body and padded noiselessly toward the next victim. This time the undead’s servant was turned away from him, but the leopard merely vaulted into the branches above his head, then dropped on the fiend, burying its canines deep, crushing the throat.
Julian watched the abominations creeping toward him, seven strong, in various stages of decay, with the master dead and no longer sustaining their lives. Then a dark shadow moved behind the tree line, and Julian caught a glimpse of glossy fur. The large jungle cat quickly dispatched two of the zombies.
Julian let his breath out slowly. These ghouls were tainted with the vampire’s infected blood, so it was more than likely that Darius also would be poisoned from his kills this night. Overhead, clouds were gathering, dark and ominous, blotting out the moonlight. Lightning began to arc, a strong, fast storm shrieking through the trees, sending limbs dancing and swaying. Julian knew it was of Darius’s making.
One ghoul lurched forward, his burning eyes on the bus and his target. The only thing standing between him and his goal was Julian. Growling insanely, drooling and slobbering, he moved toward Julian, showing hideous teeth as he shuffled in close. His huge arms swung clumsily at Julian’s head. The hunter ducked the blows and retaliated with one of his own. The head of the ghoul rocked, and the neck cracked audibly.
Julian sprang away to meet the second opponent moving in for the kill. This one swung an ax at him, the blade missing by a scant few inches. Silently cursing the fact that his arm hung uselessly at his side, Julian retaliated with a low spinning kick that swept the legs out from under the servant of the vampire. Then he swiftly delivered the killing blow to the head, crushing the skull just as the third zombie reached him.
Despite its slowness, this monster was strong and cunning. He went for Julian’s wounded shoulder, slamming into him like a charging bull. The pain was excruciating, exploding through Julian with the force of dynamite. It drove him to his knees before he could find the energy and strength to cut off feeling to the area. The air burst from his lungs so that he had to fight to breathe; his stomach clenched and knotted, rolling with nausea.
At once lightning hit his attacker, the bolt driving through the body. Smoke streamed from his mouth and nose, and his clothes and skin turned black. A ball of orange flame looking like a meteor from space then struck him in the belly, incinerating the monster, who howled eerily as he turned to ashes. The flames then jumped from body to body, directed by Darius’s hand, dispatching the remaining ghouls with the ease of a hunter of long experience and at full strength.
At once his arm slipped around Julian and took his full weight. He carried the big man like a child, cradled gently in his arms. “Do you have the strength to remove the safeguards?” he asked. The voice was calm and confident, no change in breathing despite the long flight, the terrible fight, and the burden he carried.
Julian nodded in answer to Darius’s question and began the complicated task of unraveling the safeguards, carefully making certain it was safe. Desari flung open the door and stepped aside so that her brother could carry her lifemate inside. Anxiously she followed them to the bed. The motor home was dark; only scented candles gave off flickers of light. The soothing aroma of herbs and candles filled the air, so that each time Julian took a breath, the healing scent entered his body to help alleviate the pain knifing through him.
“Is he going to be all right? Can you help him?”
Desari
asked anxiously, hovering behind Darius, trying to see around him to her lifemate.
“He is correct; the vampire’s poison i
s strong and unusual. I want you to stay out of the way. Join with the others in the healing chant and lend your strength to mine. I will heal him and then myself.”
Desari bit her lip, her hand going to her throat. “How were you infected?”
“The servants of the undead were tainted. A trap the vampire left behind for those who dared to thwart his plans.” Darius spoke matter-of-factly, with no hint of alarm. His steady, calm voice, so familiar to her, was comforting.
Darius bent over Julian. The Carpathian hunter shook his head without opening his eyes. “You first, Darius. The poison spreads quickly and grows in strength. Heal yourself before it is too late. I will be unable to aid you. Do this for Desari, as I cannot watch over her as I should.”
“Rest, Julian,” Darius commanded, used to being obeyed. Few dared to question his authority.
Darius sent himself seeking within his own body, searching out every particle of venom advancing through his bloodstream. He studied the nature of the poison, its cells and behavior. Satisfied he knew how it worked, he began to destroy it, driving it from his body in the same unhurried manner in which he did everything. Julian was right. The poison was strong and fast-acting, destroying cells and multiplying swiftly. It was a tribute to Julian’s incredible strength that he was still alive, that knowing what the venom could do, he had placed his lifemate and his duties before his own welfare. The healing chant, sung in Desari’s beautiful voice, was lending strength to Darius, yet he found himself slightly dizzy when he emerged back into his own being.
“You are gray, Darius. Take what is freely offered that you and Julian can once again regain your strength.” Desari quietly held out her wrist to her brother.
Darius took her hand and turned it over. His sister appeared fragile and delicate, yet her ancient blood ran strong and powerful. He bent his head and drank. At once he felt his strength returning. If it had been difficult and draining to remove the lethal venom from his own body after such a short exposure, it would be a monumental job to save Julian.
Desari touched her brother lightly, needing reassurance. Julian looked terrible, the lines in his face cut deep with his suffering. He was ashen and weak. His heart and lungs were slowed to impede the advance of the poison, but it was taking him over, she could clearly see. When she touched his mind to merge with him, his mind block kept her out. Julian was taking no chances that she would feel the gut-wrenching agony he was enduring silently.
“We will need all of our family to help,” Darius said as he closed the wound on her wrist. “Take care none of you falter, no matter what I look like. You can always supply me with what I need when I am finished here.”
Hear me, Julian. I will be with you. Wherever you choose to go, I will follow you. You are not alone. We will always be together.
Desari whispered it solemnly in Julian’s mind, making him hear her promise, understand her determination. She would not lose her lifemate, even if it meant following wherever he led. This life or the next, she would go with him.
Darius took a deep breath to inhale the aromatic herbs, to carry them with him as he gathered himself into light and energy and entered Julian’s body. At once he could see the bloodstream was a mess. The poison acted like a virus, mutating quickly, reproducing, attacking the body’s defenses. It was running wild, working at killing the Carpathian as fast as it was able to meet the demands of its master. The vampire must have long studied and experimented. This was a challenge Darius had never come up against.
Still, he was confident in himself and his abilities. He always found a way. He never gave up. He would triumph; he allowed no other thought, no other outcome into the realm of possibility.
He moved into the chamber of the heart and surveyed the damage. Julian had known what was happening to his insides, and the pain had to be excruciating. He had slowed his heart and lungs to slow the spread of the poison. As Darius worked to repair the damage, he studied the mutated strains. It was not so difficult to stop the original decay; he already knew the structure from studying it within his own body. The mutations were more aggressive and complicated. It was important to know which was moving faster and doing the most damage before he began to go after them.
By the time he had the walls of the heart repaired and the original strain destroyed, he had a good idea of how the virus broke up the cell, reshaped it, and multiplied. He moved into an artery to begin his real work. The poison was surging toward him, a solid army of cells on the offensive, rushing to overtake the threat to it. Darius became a general, manufacturing his own army of antibodies. He sent wave after wave toward the advancing poison. His creations began to pick up speed, moving quickly to destroy the vampire’s last deathtrap. It took tremendous strength for Darius to hold his bodiless state, to be only light and energy, to keep up with the ever changing virus as it tried to mutate to escape the onslaught of warriors he had created to combat it.
He found himself admiring the vampire’s work. It was genius, this taint, somewhere between virus and poison, fast-acting and lethal with a kind of programmed intelligence. Its entire reason for existing was to take over its host and ensure its own survival. Darius’s work was complicated, but he did it with his usual confidence and calm. The battle was strange and unfamiliar, but it was simply a matter of unraveling what the vampire had wrought. Nothing would defeat him.
At the same time, a part of him was analyzing the Carpathian male his sister had chosen for her mate. Savage was remarkable in that he had known the extent of the threat to himself, yet he had put Desari’s health and safety before his own. He had even healed the wounded birds that had aided him in his battle with the ancient one, a great cost in time and energy, and he had wiped out all existence of the vampires and their kills to preserve the secrets of their race.
Then Darius discovered a shadowing deep within Julian’s body. He studied it a long time. The virus had not tainted him thusly; this was something else, something Darius had never seen. It made him uneasy. Julian, however, was extremely calm and accepting of Darius’s presence in his body, confident in his ability to heal. There was no doubt, no adrenaline to cope with, none of the body’s defenses raised against him as he worked. And Julian was aware he had discovered the dark shadow.
The ancient healing chant, soft and melodious, gave Darius added strength as his energy began to falter. The familiar voices were all present: Desari, her voice itself healing and soothing; Syndil, gentle and peaceful like her nature; Barack, strong and sure; Dayan, the ever present second in command ready to aid him should there be need. Only when he managed to wipe out the last mutating strain and manufacture the proper antibodies to hold it at bay did Darius allow himself to emerge back into his own body.
His great strength was nearly depleted. He had worked for over two hours, an extraordinary time to be out of his own body. He was swaying with weariness, his body crying out for sustenance, and he could feel the first stirrings of unease at the approach of the sunrise.
At once Dayan thrust his wrist toward their leader. “Take what is freely offered,” he said formally.
Desari touched her brother’s shoulder. “You are gray, Darius. Please feed.” She didn’t want to tell him his appearance was nearly as alarming as Julian’s. She was wringing her hands anxiously, afraid of touching Darius’s mind to know if he thought Julian would live, afraid of asking the question aloud.
I live, my beautiful one.
Julian’s masculine voice brushed at her mind, enfolding her in warmth and comfort and a kind of exasperated amusement.
I live to teach my lifemate the meaning of obedience. Your brother is as adept as Gregori, and that, my love, is the highest compliment I could pay him.
He sounded weary and far away, as if the strain to reach her was weakening him even more.
“Julian,” she whispered aloud.
Darius swung his icy black gaze to her face in clear reprimand. With careful courtesy he closed the laceration on Dayan’s wrist and then bent his head to sp
eak to Julian. “Hear me, lawless one. You are in no shape to oppose me. If you do not wish me to place you under compulsion, you will remain silent and conserve your strength to battle what is attempting to destroy both you and my sister.” There was a hard authority in his voice, complete conviction that he would do as he threatened if need be. Darius never repeated himself; he often didn’t even bother with a warning. He struck hard and fast. Those who knew him obeyed without question.
Julian lay as if dead, the action of his heart and lungs barely discernible, but incredibly, a faint grin eased the look of death on his face.
Darius glanced at his sister. “This one has no liking for authority. Go to ground, Desari, and stop making a nuisance of yourself.”
At once the air in the room thickened with oppressive shadows. A warning, a promise of retaliation. Desari found herself holding her breath. She couldn’t believe that anyone would defy Darius’s orders, least of all a man half-dead and still in need of help from the very one he threatened. Surely Julian knew Darius would never hurt her. He simply bossed her around because that was his way.
Darius struck at the Carpathian lying so still on the bed with a powerful compulsion to sleep. In his present state, Julian had no way to combat such power. He had one thought before he succumbed to Darius’s will: that this man was far more dangerous than any Julian had encountered in all his centuries of living, perhaps even more so than Gregori.
Desari reached around her brother and brushed Julian’s hair from his forehead. Her hand lingered lovingly on his skin. “He was only seeking to protect me,” she whispered.
Darius’s teeth came together with an audible snap. “There is no need for his protection while I am with you. He knows that. He was warning me to mind how I talk to you.” The black eyes glinted with menace. “He has enough arrogance for ten males.” Darius inhaled sharply, taking the soothing aroma into his lungs. “Resume the chant and add another candle or two. It might keep you out of trouble.”
Dark Challenge (Dark Series - book 5) Page 19
