Christine Feehan: Dark Destiny (Dark Series - book 13)

“I’m glad, then.” Mary Ann pulled gloves from her jacket pocket and drew them over her delicate hands to protect them from the biting cold. “You know, at times everyone feels alone and hopeless. Even I do. We all need friends. If you are uncomfortable coming to my home, perhaps we could get a drink at the Midnight Marathon. It’s always a bit noisy in there. Would it really be so terrible to come and have a cup of tea with me? It isn’t as if you’re committing to a long-term relationship.” There was an edge of humor to her voice, an invitation to join her in shared amusement.

“Tea? I haven’t had a cup of tea in years.” Destiny pressed a hand to her stomach. Her entire being wanted to bask in Mary Ann’s company, but her stomach rolled at the idea of forcing herself to appear normal. She could only imagine the disgust and horror in Mary Ann’s eyes if she learned the truth.

“Then I would say it’s time. Come home with me,” Mary Ann invited softly, obviously pleased.

The wind rushed over the steps toward the doors of the church, flinging up leaves and twigs. Above their heads the clouds began to spin dark threads. There was something more, something in the wind that tugged gently at their clothes and hair, while it rustled alarmingly in the trees and bushes. It was almost like a voice softly murmuring to them. Calling, whispering, just out of reach. Mary Ann strained to listen, turning her head this way and that to catch the sound.

Destiny leapt at her, her breath coming out in a slow hiss of warning. She caught Mary Ann’s thick jacket by the lapel, at the same time jerking the doors of the church open wider. She thrust Mary Ann in-side. “Listen to me.” Destiny stared directly into the other woman’s eyes. “You will not leave this church until morning. No matter what you hear or see, you will not leave this church.” She spoke the command firmly, burying in the other woman’s subconscious a compulsion to obey.

Destiny sensed the danger behind her and whirled, going low, attempting to jerk her shoulder out of harm’s way. She had spent precious seconds ensuring that Mary Ann was safe, and despite her incredible speed, long, razor-sharp nails ripped her arm open from shoulder to elbow. She was already moving, sweeping with her leg as she did so, scoring a solid hit.

From far away came the soft familiar voice that so often summoned her in an ancient tongue.

Call me to you now!

It was a command, nothing less, as if he had felt her physical pain and knew she was in danger.

Destiny firmly closed off her mind to everything but the coming battle. She focused completely, watching the undead with an unblinking, predatory stare. She was still, balanced on the balls of her feet, her breath moving evenly in and out of her lungs. Vampire. Creature of the night. Hideous monster. Mortal enemy.

Her assailant was tall and slender with gray-white skin and black hair. His teeth gleamed at her as he faced her. “Call the other woman to us.” The voice was low, musical, gentle, a subtle invitation.

Destiny rushed at him, straight as an arrow, whipping a dagger from a sheath between her shoulder blades, going straight for his heart. The move was totally unexpected. He thought his voice had enthralled her, that she would obey. And she was a woman. The last thing expected of a woman was for her to attack. It was usually the element of surprise that enabled Destiny to be victorious.

The blade sank into his chest, yet he managed to slam his talons into her injured shoulder, raking deep furrows into her flesh as he leapt backward. He dissolved instantly into a greenish vapor and streamed through the night away from the city. Droplets of red mixed with the green, leaving a toxic, venomous trail for Destiny to follow. Deliberately she inhaled the noxious scent so she would know him anywhere.

She heard the echo of that familiar male voice deep inside her mind, her soul, a cry of denial followed immediately by a strange warmth. The wounds in her shoulder burned, but she was used to pain and shut it out. The strange melodic chanting of words in an ancient tongue shimmered in her mind and provided her with some solace. Still, she couldn’t ignore the blood streaming from her body. She had not fed in several days and needed sustenance. Mixing the rich soil from the priest’s garden with her own healing saliva, she packed the gaping lacerations. Very carefully, deliberately, she braided her hair in preparation for battle. Before she followed the undead to his lair, she needed to feed. The city was filled with the homeless, with unfortunate creatures who would have no chance to escape her, even in her weakened condition.

Nicolae Von Shrieder hunkered down atop the massive cliff overlooking the city. He was closer this time than he had ever been. He was certain of it. She was out there somewhere, tired and hurt and vulnerable, fighting her war alone. He felt her pain every moment of his waking hours. When he closed his eyes on the rising sun, he felt gut-wrenching agony crawling through her body, through his body.

Patience. He had learned patience in a hard school. Centuries of living had taught him discipline and patience above all else. He was an ancient with powerful gifts, yet he could not bend her to his will. He could not summon her to him. He had taught her well. Too well.

Far off, he heard the cry of a raptor, a high keening alerting him, and he lifted his face toward the stars. Very slowly he straightened, rising to his full height. “I thank you, my brother,” he murmured softly. The wind caught his voice and whipped it out, carrying the soft sound through the dense treetops and taking it further, over the city. “Our hunt begins, then.”

He would never forget the shocking moment when she had first connected with him. A child in sheer terror. Her pain and agony had been so sharp, so acute and overwhelming, her young mind had reached across time and space to merge with him. Mind to mind. Even as a child, she had been a powerful psychic. The images he received from her had been so vivid, so detailed, he had lived the nightmare with her, through her. The brutal slaying of her parents, the monster draining their blood in front of the child.

He closed his eyes against the memories, but they flooded his mind as she so often had. He had been continents away, with no way of tracking her, finding her. Yet he lived with her through the repeated cruelties, the beatings, through the countless rapes and murders she had been forced to witness. She had crawled into her mind, seeking refuge, and found him there. He whispered to her, distracted her, shared his knowledge with her. A mere child taught to kill. He had no other gift to give her. No other way of saving her.

Those were hideous years, years of hopeless seeking. The world was a very large place when one was looking for one small child. He was an ancient, sworn to protect mortals and immortals alike. A powerful being, a hunter and destroyer of the vampire, sent out centuries earlier by his prince, sworn to rid the world of such evil. He had tried to tell her there was a difference between vampire and hunter, but in his mind, she saw his battles, his kills. She saw the darkness in him, spreading like a stain over his soul. And she was afraid to put her trust in him.

Nicolae stood completely still, raw power clinging to his muscular frame as he presented his leather-clad arm to his traveling companion. The large owl circled overhead once, a lazy spiral, then plummeted fast, talons outstretched. The raptor landed on Nicolae’s forearm, and Nicolae bent his head toward its wicked beak. “You’ve picked up the scent of our prey.”

The round, beady eyes that stared back at him were filled with intelligence. The bird flapped its wings, once, twice, as if in answer, then launched itself into the air. Nicolae stared after it, a faint smile in no way softening the hard edge of his mouth. She was hurt. She was chasing a vampire and she was injured.