Christine Feehan - Dark Demon 16

Vikirnoff shook his head. «I do not even want to know.»

«Movies, of course. I've decided I'm going into the film business. I can make great vampire films.» She took her first step onto the thin layer of earth that stretched over the waters of the bog. «These mountains make a perfect setting, with the way the wind can't reach certain areas and blasts others, and how the fog lies in so thick, not to mention all the bogs and ice caves.»

«I think it's been done,» he answered. His voice was husky and she glanced at him sharply.

Vikirnoff's heart beat in his throat as he watched her following in her father's precise footsteps, a pattern they had both memorized. It didn't matter that she was so careful and light on her feet, almost gliding as she placed her feet on the tufts of grass, he was afraid for her. Fear took on an entirely new meaning when it was for a loved one.

Love. He tasted the word-tried it out tentatively. How did one equate the terrible, overwhelming emotion that had somehow crept up on him with that small word? Did he feel this way because she was his lifemate? Or because of who she was? What she was? He couldn't image wanting a woman without her penchant for late night movies. And as exasperating as it could be, when she didn't have a sassy, smart comment to make, it worried him. Was it love to wake up thinking of her before anything else? For centuries hunger had been his every waking thought and yet now, even that had taken a back seat.

Natalya paused staring down at the two small blocks of grass, side by side, both looking as if they were solid. «Look at this, Vik, does this look the same? I don't remember two patches so close to one another.»

He swore under his breath as he took to the air and hovered just above her. There had not been two patches so close together. Over time, the bog had changed, plants growing, multiplying, and dying off naturally. Natalya was risking stepping into a sinkhole by following the pattern her father had provided. «We could try finding the last step and I could carry you to that spot.»

Natalya shook her head, glancing at him sharply. «The pattern is part of the safeguard.»

Vikirnoff was ashamed of himself. He had known the steps were important, just as she did, but as she got deeper into the bog, his uneasiness grew stronger. He was well aware of the weather patterns in the Carpathian Mountains, of the places where there was a lack of wind and the fog hung for weeks on end. He knew there was fire and ice beneath the mountains and that many oddities were really natural and not made by either Carpathian or vampire, yet the stillness in the valley was oppressive to him and the stagnant water, so naturally the color of old blood had become sinister.

«I do not feel easy about this, Natalya.»

Her eyebrow shot up. «You aren't helping. I'm trying to remember if he stepped forward with his left foot or with his right.»

«His left.» The answer came out of his memory, minute details recorded automatically without thought. «He switched leads.»

She flashed a grin at him as she wiped beads of sweat from her face. «You might be useful after all.» She pointed toward the edge of the bog. «Wait over there. I don't want you hovering over me, making me nervous.» She waited until he complied before leading with her left foot.

Vikirnoff folded his arms across his chest, assuming his expressionless mask. «It is good to know you are finally coming to the conclusion that I am useful.» His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white and his muscles began to ache from the terrible tension that continued to rise in his gut.

In the forest behind them the trees started to sway gently, almost imperceptible at first, but Vikirnoff's acute hearing picked up the rustle of the pine needles and he swung around alertly. There was a little moonlight shining through the woods and the branches were illuminated in a ghostly silver. The needles appeared more like skinny fingers with sharp nails reaching out toward the bog. The ripple of unease grew stronger. Vikirnoff turned so he could watch both the forest and Natalya as she proceeded through the swamp.

She stepped forward a second time with her left foot, swayed precariously so that his heart jumped into his throat. Natalya regained her balance and took several more steps, each with more confidence, so he was surprised when she halted again abruptly.

«What is it?»

«I don't know.» Her hand slid to her sword, touching the sheath for the comfort of knowing it was close. «Did you hear something?»

«The wind?» But it wasn't the wind. There was barely a wind. Voices sounded in the distance, wailing and crying, the rise and fall faint, but discernable.

«You wish it was the wind. It's going to be something nasty,» Natalya predicted. «The sound has increased with every step I've taken. And look at the surface of the water.»

Vikirnoff stepped closer to the edge of the bog. The ground shook and several plants vibrated with the motion. He halted instantly, his gaze riveted to the surface rather than the plants. The water was stagnant and should have been still, but it moved in peculiar patterns, not fast or abruptly, but rather so slowly that it was almost imperceptible, yet when he peered closer, faces seemed to stare back at him.

«Are there bodies in the bog?»

«Ugg!» Natalya drew back, staring down at the surface, her fingers grasping her sword hilt. «That's gross. I didn't even think of that. I don't think there are bodies in the swamp, but now I'm worried something dead is going to reach up and grab my ankle and yank me in.» The moment she uttered the words there was a small silence. She reached down to rub at the finger marks on her ankle. «Do you think he's here?»

Vikirnoff knew she meant Razvan. «Let's get out of here, Natalya. You do not have to do this.» He took another step toward her and sank to his ankles.

«Don't!» she said it sharply, shaking her head adamantly. «I have to do this. We both agreed. If I don't now, I'll never come back. I need you to give me confidence.»

He swore under his breath, resisting the urge to take to the air and snatch her back from the center of the bog. «You do not ask very much of me, do you?»

«You know, when you started in about the entire lifemate thing, I didn't protest too much, because you were kind of cute.» Natalya pulled her gaze away from a shimmering face with its mouth open in a scream. She took several more careful steps, sure of the pattern, and stopped only feet away from where her father had hidden the book. «At the time, I didn't realize how incredibly bossy you are or how grumpy you can be.»

«Kind of cute? You didn't protest too much?» Vikirnoff echoed. «In all your late night movies did you ever come across a character named Pinocchio?»

Natalya burst out laughing. «Of all the movies, you had to have seen that one. That's so you.»

He grinned at her. «Actually, I did not see it. I read the book, but I knew it was made into a movie and the character was someone you could relate to.»

«It's a good thing you're over there and I'm over here. I'd push you into one of the sinkholes and just leave you to contemplate your sins.» Natalya gave a little sniff. «I may have stretched the truth slightly, at least the kind of cute part, but I didn't lie.»

She took the last few steps through the bog, until she was standing in the exact spot her father had stood in years earlier. «This is it. I feel my father here. Now it gets complicated.»

All around the small island of grass where she stood, the faces forming in the surface of the water gathered, mouths gaping open, sightless eyes wide. Some of the faces were larger than others, rising up like small waves and trembling as if made of gelatin. «See, this is the kind of thing to put in movies,» Natalya said. «Only no one would believe it. It's plain freaky.»