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Nicolae pushed a hand through his hair. “I would have to say it was a draw. I cannot stay long. Destiny is ill and I must return to her.” He glanced sharply at the priest. “You did not feel a compulsion to come here now, did you?”

“You mean as if I couldn’t stop myself?”

Nicolae nodded. “I do not like the fact that you were attacked. That Martin was used to attack you and that he was out tonight. And now I find you here.”

Father Mulligan shook his head firmly. “I woke when the thunder was so loud. Believe me, I was in complete control of all my faculties. I knew something was wrong, and I was worried about my parishioners.”

“It is much safer to stay inside, Father,” Nicolae pointed out. He turned his attention to Martin’s leg. “How did they manage to get their hands on you?”

Martin frowned. “I had a fight with Tim. We never argue, but this thing with my losing my memory and nearly killing Father Mulligan is ruining our relationship. I think Tim’s a little afraid of me. I keep telling him I’d never hurt him, but then I would never hurt you, Father, and I did. So that doesn’t mean much.”

“Do you know John Paul, Martin?”

“Sure. Everyone knows him. He looks like a brute, but he’s really a gentle giant. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.”

“He beat up Helena. Not once but twice,” Nicolae said, watching Martin’s face carefully.

Martin paled visibly, looked genuinely shocked. “I don’t believe it. He

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Helena. He would kill anyone who touched her. I don’t believe you.” He looked at the priest for confirmation. “It had to be someone else.”

“He doesn’t remember it either, Martin,” Father Mulligan said gently.

Martin dropped his face into his hands. “I don’t understand any of this. Why is this happening? Does it have something to do with those creatures?” He dragged his hands over his face twice as if wiping the memory away. “Am I going insane? Tell me if I am. I swear I’d rather let that creature bite me in half than hurt someone I care about.”

“I don’t think you’re insane,” Father Mulligan said, dropping a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “Neither is John Paul.”

“I was out walking tonight. I didn’t want Tim to see me cry. I didn’t see the thing coming at me. One moment I was alone, and then it had me.” He shuddered with the memory of the hot jaws crushing him. “Some animal, Father—a cross between a Komodo dragon and a crocodile, but with wings. I sound crazy even to myself.” He slumped against the back of the wooden bench. “I don’t know whether to go to the nearest hospital and check myself in or put a gun to my head.”

Nicolae leaned close, staring directly into Martin’s eyes. “You will do neither. You will not remember the creatures you saw tonight, or my presence or flying through the air. There was no battle in the skies. You sat here in the park and spoke with Father Mulligan. He calmed you down and told you to have faith and wait it out. There is an answer, and you will be exonerated.”

Martin nodded, his eyes glazing slightly as he slipped deeper under Nicolae’s compulsion. Nicolae healed his legs, making certain there was not even a tiny scar to draw attention to the incident. He looked up at the priest. “You will have to take over from here, Father. See that he gets home. Maybe talk with Tim and ask him to ease up on Martin. He is not dangerous.”

“Neither is John Paul, yet he hurt Helena,” the priest said. “I was told that tonight he went berserk in his home and tore it to pieces, destroying furniture in a terrible rage. A neighbor wanted to call the police but called Velda instead. She advised against it. Helena is safe, and he can’t get to her for the time being. If he goes into the system, he’ll have a record for life.”

“I saw him earlier; he was not himself, more like a zombie, programmed for violence, but I could not detect the undead,” Nicolae said.

“You are talking about vampires. Individuals who drink the blood of the living and have given up their souls to continue their immortal existence. Those are the creatures you hunt. And Martin saw them.” Father Mulligan’s voice was filled with awe. “It is difficult to believe such creatures could exist. Are they wholly evil’? Beyond redemption’? This is certain’?”

Nicolae surged to his feet, looming over the priest, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Do not dare try to save them, Father. They would delight in getting their hands on you. You are in the business of saving souls. They do not have souls to save. Vampires are capable of making you commit depraved acts you cannot even conceive of. Must I give you a command, Father’?”

Father Mulligan glanced at Martin, who was slumped on the bench with a slack expression. He drew away from Nicolae. “It isn’t necessary. I’ll keep my distance from them.”

“Make certain that you do.” Nicolae “pushed” with his voice, making sure the priest would stay away from the vampires. He waved his hand to wake Martin even as he dissolved, streaming away from the city in a trail of vapor.

Chapter Fourteen

Destiny lay as still as a corpse in a grave so shallow, it was a testament to her weakness. He had known she was exhausted, but she had hidden the full extent of it from him. No hunter, knowing vampires were in the area and the resting place compromised, would have gone to ground in such a way.

Nicolae waved aside the thin layer of soil and closed his eyes at what he saw lying there. Anger swirled through him. Mixed with heartache. She looked terribly young and vulnerable lying there with her skin translucent, almost gray. Droplets of blood had seeped from her pores, and in her exhaustion she had been unable to summon the strength to heal her body any further. The poison had been dealt with, but it had come from the infected vampire and her tainted blood had embraced the dark gift. She looked as if she were slipping away from him.

Nicolae didn’t awaken her there. He wanted her out of the damp, tiny space, a crawl space of near death where the odor of blood held the stench of the vampire. The blackened carcass of the lizard remained along with the black strings of tentacles, a reminder of the double attack. Destiny didn’t belong in this place of death. He gathered her into his arms. She seemed light and insubstantial. The confrontation with evil had weakened her beyond her limits. He held her to him, against the breadth of his chest, wanting to shelter her from every struggle. He looked down at her face and felt the sting of unexpected tears.

Destiny had been through so much in her life. As her lifemate, he wanted to protect her from all harm, shield her from all adversity. He was an ancient warrior. His protection was considerable, yet he could never bring himself to force Destiny to give up hunting the undead. She needed to know she was strong enough. She needed to know she had control. She needed to be able to rid the world of as many of the vile creatures as she could. He knew Vikirnoff didn’t understand. Most likely no Carpathian, male or female, would understand. But he knew Destiny. He knew her heart and soul. He knew every scar in her mind. The wounds were deep, and he couldn’t get rid of them for her. In truth, he didn’t want to get rid of them anymore. He realized that those memories, that horrendous life she had endured and survived, had made her the courageous woman she was. She had been shaped and honed in the fires of hell and she had come through it, a compassionate woman who sought to protect, with every breath in her body, those she allowed into her life.

He took her from the underground burrow out into the open air so that the gentle wind slipped over her body, ruffled her hair and clothes, breathed a clean scent over her. Nicolae, aching with love, took her out over the mountains, made his way through the series of chambers until they were home in their cave of shimmering pools and glittering gems. He waved his hand so that the carved urn leapt to life, flickering and dancing, casting shadows on the walls and across the surface of the water. Healing aromas filled the space, mingling together to provide a soothing peace.