Dark Sentinel ('Dark' Carpathian Book 32)

by Christine Feehan

  4

  Lorraine woke, turned her head and looked at the mound of dirt beside her. Her heart slammed hard in her chest and she sat up fast, her breath coming in an agitated frenzy. She gulped air and then realized that made the dizzy sensation even worse. She put her hand over the soft dirt right where she knew Andor’s heart should be. He had convinced her to cover even his head. His mouth. His nose. There was no rise and fall beneath that blanket of dirt, but he’d told her not to expect one. He said he was shutting down his heart and lungs to give himself more of a chance, hoping his friends would arrive in time to save him.

  She wasn’t going to look for two reasons. If he was already dead, she wouldn’t be able to take it. She knew that. Losing him would have been too much for her. She told herself he was a stranger, but somehow, in the night, speaking so intimately, talking together, afraid he might be dying and struggling to find a way to make every minute of what was left of his life count, she’d bonded with him. She’d connected with him in a way she never had with another human being.

  More importantly, if he was alive, she wanted him to stay that way. She wanted him to have every chance to live. With his heart and lungs shut down, he couldn’t lose more blood. She’d given him quite a bit the night before. Enough that she woke up thirsty, so parched she was already gulping water. She’d been dizzy and weak after he’d taken her blood and had barely been able to cover him after he’d woven what he called “safeguards” around their camp. He’d claimed it was an invisible barrier that would keep out vampires and even human campers if there were any close by—which she doubted. Unless the bumbling vampire hunters returned.

  She had to get up and check things out. She also needed to go to the bathroom. She’d been so parched the night before she’d drunk nearly half the water in her canteen. Very carefully, she eased her body away from the mound of dirt. She’d slept close to him. She’d told herself she was guarding him, but she knew it was more because she’d needed to feel close to him.

  She tucked the gun inside her jacket and added the large can of wasp spray she carried, just in case she had to set a vampire on fire. Wasp spray was a very good weapon, and she nearly always had a can handy. Night was falling when she stepped out of the tent, the last rays of the sun slipping dramatically from the sky. She took a careful look around and then made her way to the bushes. Andor had been very precise about how far from the camp she could get and she followed his instructions to the letter.

  She wasn’t certain how she knew he was telling her the truth about his life and his people, but something in his voice, the strong connection between them, allowed her to listen to his explanations. Every word he uttered resonated with her, as if she already knew the truth and had just needed him to confirm it.

  Lorraine stood beside the tent, running her hand over the side of it, needing to hear the sound of Andor’s voice. She had always been independent. According to her parents, unusually so. She liked her own company. If she was somewhere quiet with a good book, she was happy. She could spend hours in the dojo training without a partner. Her brother had always wanted to have a partner to spar against or compete with during training. She was content and even preferred to work by herself.

  It was strange to crave the sound of a voice. To want to feel another person’s heartbeat. She told herself it was because she’d been through such trauma and everyone had ostracized her, so she’d learned to be lonely, but she knew that wasn’t the truth. It was Andor. Something about his quiet acceptance drew her. He knew he was close to death. He wasn’t angry at the vampires he’d fought or the three men who’d managed to stake him. He just quietly fought to survive.

  Through no fault of her own, fate had taken her family and made her a pariah with her friends. She wanted to find Andor’s inner peace, that place of acceptance and peace that was so ingrained in him. Harmony with the world around him ran like the deepest part of a river in Andor.

  She moved around the campsite, setting up her defenses. Andor had set the safeguards, but she wasn’t positive they would hold. She had forced herself, after he’d taken her blood, to look into his mind specifically for encounters with vampires. She’d asked him to bring those memories to the forefront so they would be easy for her to tap into.

  She looked up at the moon, trying not to hyperventilate. She hadn’t been able to sleep very well, the nightmare battles far too close. She’d never imagined such an evil creature, or one so powerful. Andor’s last battle, the one where he’d defeated seven vampires, had been her last vision. She couldn’t take any more after that. Heart pounding, stomach churning, she spent a few bad moments with her hands over her face, fighting the urge to run away.

  How had Andor managed to get up every evening and go out looking for such evil? It was madness. Sooner or later—maybe even this time—he would be defeated. He would die a horrible death. No one even knew he existed. Or if they did, such as his brethren, they weren’t capable of emotion and wouldn’t even mourn his passing.

  She hated what had happened to her family, and she hated Andor’s life for him. She had no idea why terrible things happened to good people. Her brother had been a good person, her parents wonderful. Her aunt and uncle and Theodore’s best friend’s parents had been giving and kind. They didn’t deserve what had happened to them. And Andor …

  Lorraine sighed. Looking into his mind, even just to see battles, connected them even more. She didn’t need or want that. He touched something deep in her and just stayed there. Inside. Where she couldn’t get him out. He was in her head, and now, she thought, he was branded deep in her bones. She understood their connection. Talking telepathically and being in each other’s minds was a strong link between them.

  She only had so much in the way of ammunition to fight off vampires and she had to place it in the most strategic positions—the ones that made sense. She studied the various battles between Andor and the vampires, each separately, to try to find patterns. Similarities in the way vampires fought. When she was pitted against an opponent in the ring, or in her martial arts class, that was what she did. She watched for weaknesses. She found out their favorite methods of attack. What the knockout punch was.

  At first, as she sat outside the tent and watched the sky darken, she could only see how powerful and clever vampires were. They took on various forms, used soft, gentle voices and then commanding, compelling ones. They whispered to Andor, tempted him, all the while cunningly plotting his death.

  She watched Andor in action, replaying the scenes over and over in her mind, learning the way he moved. She was used to watching fighters. They had bodies honed from years of training, working the bags, sparring with opponents. None could compare or even come close to the blurring speed and fluid movements of Andor. He was breathtaking. Beautiful. Every muscle was honed to perfection. He was a pure fighting machine.

  She pulled her legs up tailor-fashion and began to breathe deeply and evenly. She had ideas now on how to defeat a vampire if she had to fight one alone. It could be done if she didn’t get one that was really, really good. Some of them were so powerful she hadn’t believed even Andor could defeat them—and he had. She found herself feeling inexplicably proud of him. It would be pure luck to get the right one—a newly turned vampire still getting used to being undead. She sent out a silent prayer to the universe that if she had to protect Andor, that was what she was going to go up against.

  Finding out about Carpathians and vampires might have freaked her out at any other time, but after what had happened to her family, nothing compared. Nothing would ever compare. She had walked into a room full of blood and death. Every family member gone. The destruction caused by the vampires in villages and small towns was horrendous, but no more than what she’d walked into.

  “Andor.” She murmured his name aloud. She didn’t want to lose him. The world needed him and his skills. She admitted to herself it was more than that. He had filled those lonely places in her and soothed the raw edges of her memories. He couldn�
��t take away the pain, but he did bring her the first comfort she’d felt since her family had died. She wouldn’t let Andor down. She would guard him, and if he had lived through the day, he would live through the night and be alive when his brethren came for him.

  In the distance, an owl screamed, and when she looked in that direction, a tall pine tree shivered. No, it was more like shuddering. Her heart skipped a beat. She kept her eyes glued to the tree and the brush surrounding it. Darkness was falling, but the moon was throwing enough light for her to make out the way the needles on the pine suddenly went from green to brown. A bush a few feet from the tree shriveled, pulling in its foliage.

  Lorraine stood up slowly and stretched. She had to get this right, place herself in the exact position so the vampire would take the spot she needed him to be in. She faced toward him, staying loose, breathing evenly. There was a pause in the shivering brush, and she knew the vampire had become aware of her.

  Within seconds, she felt the first oily touch of his mind seeking to probe hers. She had worked part of the night on strengthening the shields in her mind. Andor could pick thoughts out of her mind, just as she could his, but neither could probe deeply without the other’s consent. She told herself the vampire wasn’t stronger than Andor. She could hold out against him.

  Soft whispers touched her mind, brushing gently, insistently, looking for entry. The tone was almost tender, like that a lover might use, but she felt its foulness. She began to hum to drown out the voice. She didn’t want to hear his entreaty or his commands. He tried pushing a compulsion into her mind, but her shields held fast.

  The vampire burst through the foliage, rushing her, red, pitiless eyes glaring at her as he came. She held her ground, her fingers around the bottle of whiskey she had brought to warm herself on cold nights. One small sip, maybe two. The bottle almost hadn’t made the cut when she was deciding what to bring with her. She had to carry everything while she was hiking through the mountains. Now, that bottle might save her life.

  The vampire ran into an unseen force. Sparks danced through the sky. Red and white and yellow, the flames licked at the rotting flesh of the vampire. He leapt back and howled. His curses were barely intelligible. He snarled and paced along the edge of the campsite, occasionally testing the safeguards Andor had constructed from where he lay inside the tent, so badly wounded.

  Lorraine deliberately held her ground, just turning to face the monster. She hoped if she stayed in position, he would eventually choose to stand in front of her to communicate with her. From what she’d seen in Andor’s mind, all vampires seemed very susceptible to flattery. They appeared to be vain, egotistical creatures.

  The vampire eventually came back to stand directly in front of her, right on the little rise of soil she had prepared. Her heart gave another leap of joy, but she slowed her breathing and pulse so he wouldn’t be able to use the signs against her. When he stood still, his looks changed completely. He was no longer a rotting corpse, with flaming red eyes and a mouth that was no more than a slash with jagged, stained teeth. He was dressed in modern clothes and was young and quite good-looking.

  He bowed to her. “Lady. I believe you are harboring a fugitive. He has committed terrible crimes against his country and I’ve been sent to bring him to justice.”

  Deliberately, Lorraine stalled. The longer this played out, the more time Andor’s friends had to get there. If she didn’t have to try to kill this creature, she would be much happier. She glanced over her shoulder toward the tent, looking as nervous as possible. Since she truly was nervous, it wasn’t difficult.

  “Do you mean Andor?”

  The vampire nodded. “That is his name, yes. I have tracked him for a while. He’s a very dangerous criminal.”

  “Is he?” Again, she looked over her shoulder, her uneasiness transmitting itself to the vampire. “He’s very … commanding.”

  “Are there others in the camp with you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. He would know that if he walked around the campsite. “What’s your name?”

  “Dartmus.”

  She wrung her hands together. “I don’t know what to do.” She tried to sound very scared and very young.

  “There were three other men here.” It was an accusation, nothing less.

  She nodded. “He ran them off, but he did something weird first.” She stopped there, making him ask. Each second was a second she’d gained so Andor’s brethren could get that much closer.

  “What did he do?”

  She felt the oily probe at her mind again. It was like thick fingers, scratching and clawing to find a way in. She had to work to repress a shudder of revulsion. Just the touch made her feel sick.

  “The men were like statues, over there.” She indicated the spot where the three men had suddenly gone motionless, frozen in time, arms outstretched, knees bent as if they were caught in mid-motion taking a step. It had been the first time she’d realized the things she’d stumbled across were far deeper and worse than they’d seemed. She’d done what she always had, stayed as quiet as possible to learn as much as she could in a short period of time. She’d needed to make an assessment of the situation fast.

  The vampire glanced in the direction she pointed but his eyes were narrowed and his brow furrowed. She thought she saw a bug crawling up his face, but it had grown a little darker now and it was impossible to be sure. She knew he was wondering why he couldn’t get into her head.

  “He told them to leave after he took their blood, and they ran away.”

  “Let me inside.”

  “How? I don’t know how. He’s still in the ground. I think he might be dead, but I don’t know and I don’t want to find out.”

  “Invite me inside.”

  She shook her head. “He said I can’t do that. He said if I invited anyone inside the camp, the moment they touched that barrier, they would burn.” She gave another shudder. She told herself it was for effect, but the truth was, he creeped her out.

  His eyes were glowing in the dark, a fiery red he couldn’t seem to control. He had managed to put himself together, to make himself look human, but his skin cracked, and now she was very certain bugs slipped out. His teeth one moment seemed normal, the next they looked spiked and stained. His lips were thin, and they looked stained, too. Once his tongue came out, a long purplish-red thing that scooped up one of the bugs near his mouth.

  “You will invite me in now.” His voice was shrill.

  It hurt her ears. She resisted covering them, forcing her body to stay relaxed. He was getting angry, just the way the other vampires had in the images in Andor’s head. If they were thwarted in what they wanted for too long, they threw tantrums. She knew they became lethal at that point.

  “I’m sorry, but no. I think you’d better go now.” In contrast to him, she kept her voice very low and soft. Almost gentle, the way one lover might speak to another.

  That threw him for a minute. He hesitated and then howled his rage and raced to the barrier again. His chest hit and a thousand tiny embers lit the air all around him. Sparks raced up his shirt and snapped against his chin. He screamed and hit at his face and clothes to keep any flames from burning out of control. Several licked at his chest, but he stamped them out with the heel of his hand. He glared at her, pacing back and forth like a wild animal, but he stayed right in front of her, just as she’d hoped. Now he was much closer, right along the invisible barrier Andor had created.

  He stopped abruptly and tried staring into her eyes. She immediately dropped her gaze to his chest. Low enough not to meet his gaze, but high enough to still see his face and any signs he inadvertently gave before he tried his next attack. He was studying her, and she tried to keep her mind as blank as possible. From being with Andor, she knew she could hold a barrier between the vampire and her deepest thoughts. He couldn’t command her. But he could most likely catch any random thought that moved in and out of the front of her brain.

  “You were expecting me.” His han
d began to tap a rhythm against his thigh.

  “Of course. He told me that a little toad might show up and I was to keep that toad out at all costs. He said a human woman as puny and defenseless as I am could keep the likes of something as slow and insignificant as you out. He told me to expect you to be as inept as the bumbling vampire hunters sent to kill him.”

  She saw the fury her words unleashed in the way the skin of his face cracked and peeled off, leaving rotting flesh below the mask. He looked hideous with his face partially gone and his eyes receding deeper into the pits in his skull. He didn’t seem to notice that his mask of civility was slowly peeling away.

  “He said that?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  She felt the ground move slightly. Waves appeared in the dirt all around him and then under the barrier right into the campsite, coming straight at her. Her heart accelerated but she didn’t move. She forced air in and out of her lungs, one slow, controlled breath at a time.

  “I saw this one. Bugs crawling out of the dirt, but they aren’t real. They can’t be. The bugs couldn’t make it past Andor’s safeguards. He’s in the ground and he would never fail to safeguard his resting place. This is an illusion. You’re going to have to do better.”

  That rhythm he was tapping on his thigh was now sounding out in the forest, in the trees where she couldn’t see. Branches creaking to that same beat. He was up to something, but she didn’t know what. She just had to stay alert.

  “Let me in! Invite me in!” He screamed the words at her and hurled himself at her mind, this time slamming into her shield over and over, battering at her hard enough that she felt bruised. Her head hurt so bad it felt as if it might explode.

  She refused to let him see he had succeeded in hurting her. This was a tantrum, but it was also for show. He stepped back and raised his hands. He began to murmur words and moved his hands around. She knew immediately he was trying to figure out what the safeguards were. That scared her.