As Julian started out of the chamber, Barack materialized almost in front of him, blocking the way. “It is my right to do this thing. I will hunt.”
Syndil, kneeling in the rich soil near Darius, swung around so fast she nearly fell over their leader’s resting place. “What in the world are you saying? Have you completely lost your mind, Barack? What has gotten into you these last months? You have no business chasing monsters around.” Her voice was the strongest Julian had ever heard it, a husky blend of sounds that made one think of bedrooms and satin sheets. That voice could easily stop a man in his tracks, and Barack was not immune to its magic.
The Carpathian male turned to look at her, his dark eyes cool and calm. “You will stay out of this business, Syndil, and behave as a woman should.”
“I would think one kill on your hands would be enough,” Syndil went on. “It is not your calling, or have you acquired a taste for such things?”
“The undead cannot be allowed to follow us or make another try for you or Desari,” Barack replied without anger. “You will be protected.”
For one moment Syndil’s beautiful eyes came alive with a flash of brilliance quite close to anger. “You are taking far too much on yourself, Barack. You have no claim to make on my behavior. Our leader can chastise me if he so desires—not that it would do any good if I did not choose to follow him. I tire of these tantrums. Whatever I did to cause Savon to turn on me, I have paid for, many times over. You can quit punishing me for my sins. I refuse to tolerate it any longer.”
“Is that what you think, Syndil? That I blame you for Savon’s behavior?” Barack rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. “What am I saying? Of course you think that. I have been in your mind and have read the guilt you feel. But do not reflect such thoughts back
on me,
Syndil. I live to protect you, that is all. And I will do so despite your harsh judgments of my capabilities. It
is
my duty and my right.”
Syndil stood up, her slender figure fragile and beautiful. Her chin was up, her eyes alive with pain and pride. “You wish me to be responsible for another death? I will not have such a thing happen to you. I will leave, Barack, and when you come home there will be emptiness in my place.”
A slow smile curved Barack’s mouth. He crossed the distance between them, ignoring Desari and Julian as if they weren’t witnessing the strange conversation. His hand caught Syndil’s chin and held her so that she was forced to meet his steady gaze. “Do you not hear your own words, Syndil?” His thumb rubbed gently, almost tenderly over her skin. “You said
when I
return. You know I will defeat this enemy, just as I defeated the other. Do not fear for my life. I am not nearly so careless as I pretend to be.”
Her large eyes shimmered with tears. “Everything is so out of kilter, Barack. I cannot find myself. I cannot imagine existing if something were to happen to you.” She swallowed, then jerked her head away to shake it as if denying her own words. “Any of you. We have lived so long together, and now it is all coming apart.”
Desari slipped an arm around Syndil. Barack’s teeth flashed again. “It is merely changing, Syndil, not coming apart. We will weather this crisis as we have so many others.”
“We must go,” Julian said. “The undead will rise any moment now, and he knows we will be hunting him.” He turned abruptly and took the passage leading to the chimney entrance, certain Barack would be with him. Barack was correct—he had the right to hunt this demon threatening his family—but Julian was a solitary hunter. He had no real idea of Barack’s abilities and felt responsible for the man’s safety. Silently he cursed the Carpathian male’s sense of duty when it came to their women. Even as he did, however, he knew he was counting on Dayan to guard the women and Darius. Should Dayan fail, he was counting on Darius to protect them all, even wounded as he was.
Barack was silent, allowing the blond stranger to take the lead. Obviously an experienced hunter, the man was accepted and even respected by Darius. Julian was blasting upward through the narrow chimney toward the sky. Once out into the open, he shape-shifted, winging his way toward the south and the thick forest. Barack followed, a silent shadow, willing to do whatever it took to rid their family of this evil entity that threatened Syndil and Desari.
Julian blocked out all unnecessary intrusions and concentrated on the incoming data his senses were recording at a rapid rate. Immediately he turned slightly southeast and streaked toward the blankness in the air. The vampire was rising and radiating the stench of his presence, covering his tracks with a blocking spell. The very absence of data gave him away. Rising was always the most vulnerable, disoriented moment for any Carpathian or vampire, that one wrenching instant they came out of the solace of the earth.
Julian struck, even from the distance they were, hoping for a lucky hit, sending a bolt of light and white-hot energy slicing through the sky over the region of blankness. The sound was tremendous, a loud crack that shook the trees beneath them as the bolt traveled faster than sound. He was rewarded with a hate-filled cry of pain. The sword of light had tagged their enemy but had not disabled him.
At once Julian plummeted toward the ground,
zigzagging,
spiraling, moving so quickly it was impossible to see him. Barack broke away, realizing Julian was expecting retaliation. He followed suit, splitting off, taking a completely different route to make it more difficult for the vampire to score. At once the sky was lit with jagged bolts of lightning. Like arrows they fell in all directions, leaping from cloud mass to cloud mass and arcing to ward the ground itself. Sparks rained on the earth, and the sky lit up, raining fireworks.
Within the display of white light, colors suddenly began to shimmer, blues and oranges and reds, tongues of flames like heat-seeking missiles. The colors raced back toward the oncoming vampire, swarming, gathering in number and strength. They raced through the sky, turning this way and that, obviously following an invisible trail. Again Julian was rewarded with a scream of rage. At once the ground shook, and trees were blackened as the monster retaliated.
Far away, both Carpathians heard the faint, feminine cry of pain. Barack swore.
He attacks her.
He used the mental path familiar to his family, hoping Julian was aware of it.
He is trying to draw her out. Can he do such a thing?
Barack considered that. He had been in Syndil’s mind. She was of the earth, as they all were, yet her gift was an affinity the rest of them could never experience. She would feel the earth crying out, the death of the living plants as they withered in pain.
I am afraid it will be so. She will feel the earth’s pain as we cannot. And she can do no other than attempt to heal it. Go then, stop her. I have instructed Desari to hold her there until you get there, and she has bound Syndil with her voice, but she says the pain in Syndil is torture to see. Go quickly, Barack, and know that I will destroy this monster while you keep her safe. Whatever promises you must make to her will be kept.
Barack believed him. There was something of Darius in Julian Savage. A quiet confidence that clung to him like a second skin. A second attack on the foliage below and Syndil’s soft cry spurred him back toward the mountain.
Julian shut off his connection to Desari and the others.
This vampire was his ancient enemy, very dangerous and highly skilled. The vampire had found a young boy so many centuries ago, lured him into a world of knowledge and excitement, then betrayed him and marked him with the darkness of the undead. He had tormented Julian, whispered taunts and threats, forced him to endure the screams of his victims, to feel their terror before he killed them. And he had shamed Julian. Taunted him with the knowledge that he would forever be alone, tainted. Shadowed. The monster was finally before him, and they would face one another across the battlefield alone, as it was always meant to be.