Christine Feehan: Dark Descent (Dark Series - Book 11)

Jubal took hold of the stake in Traian’s left shoulder with both hands and yanked with all his strength. Blood spurted, but Gabrielle pressed her palms over the wound hard. “The first-aid kit is in my pack, Joie, but I don’t know how we’re going to get him to the surface. He needs blood as quickly as possible.”

“Just take them all out,” Traian instructed. “We really have to hurry.”

“Do what he says, Jubal.” Joie caught the sense of urgency emanating from Traian. Little white lines were etched around his perfectly sculpted mouth. “Vampire babe is twitching.” To her horror, the knife was vibrating, wiggling back and forth as if slowly emerging from the rotted flesh. “Hurry—we may have a little problem with handsome. He seems to be coming back to life.”

“Pack the wounds with mud. Hurry,” Traian said.

Joie didn’t want to take her eyes off the ghoulish creature, but the dark compulsion in Traian’s voice alarmed her. Gabrielle obeyed him. Always meticulously careful of germs and microorganisms, she scooped up handfuls of gooey soil and, before Jubal could stop her, smeared it over Traian’s shoulder and the rest of the gaping holes in his flesh.

Without warning, Traian reached out and dragged Jubal close to him, murmuring something Joie couldn’t quite catch. He bent his head toward Jubal’s exposed throat. Neither Jubal nor Gabrielle protested; rather, they stood quietly, as if enthralled.

Fury burned through Joie. “You blood-sucking fiend! Touch him and you die! I’m not kidding you. Let him go or I’ll tear your heart out. And don’t try using your voice on me, because it won’t work.” As she hissed the words out in a low, smoldering voice, she moved to aim the knife she had drawn from the sheath strapped to her calf. At the same time, she tried to keep the vampire in sight.

“If I do not get blood, we are all going to die,” Traian said calmly. He looked at her, his gaze steady and honest.

She let her breath escape between her teeth as she reached out and jerked Gabrielle away from him, thrusting her sister behind her. “Release them now.”

“We have only minutes.”

“Then don’t waste time.” Her hand didn’t waver. Neither did her stare.

Traian spoke softly to Gabrielle and Jubal, and both reacted immediately, Jubal hurrying to safety.

“Tell us what’s going on,” Joie said. “It isn’t as if we didn’t witness the zombie man on the ground here, doing his sorry imitation of Dracula.”

“I am Carpathian, of the Earth. All the stories I told you were true, not made up to entertain you. I lived the battles; they were not fiction. I need blood to survive, but we do not kill for sustenance. I have fought the vampire for hundreds of years.” His voice was every bit as steady as his gaze. “This one will rise again, and he has friends. You cannot stop them, nor can I without blood to build my strength.”

Jubal caught at Joie and tried to drag her backward, away from the wounded man. She held up her hand. “He’s telling the truth, Jubal. I can feel them coming— can’t you?” She handed her knife to her brother, ignoring her trembling hand. “If I’m making the biggest mistake of my life, I expect you to avenge me.”

She made her way to where Traian remained slumped against the blue ice, pulling off her helmet as she did so. “Go for it, but remember, my brother can hit a bull’s-eye every time.”

Traian touched her then, circling her wrist with his long fingers and drawing her slowly, inexorably to him. Joie’s heart skipped a beat, then began to pound, whether in fear or excitement, she didn’t know. She knew only that her mouth went dry and her insides were melting at an alarming rate. His eyes went dark, focused on her completely, shutting out everything else. Everyone else. He pulled her into the shelter of his large frame.

Joie felt his every muscle, hard, defined, rippling with power. He should have smelled of sweat and blood, but his scent was masculine, clean, inviting. Sexy. The world seemed to drop away. Danger didn’t matter. His arms swept around her, held her close so that her heart beat with the same rhythm as his. She placed her hand over his chest, felt his heart beat strongly against her palm. She lifted her gaze to his and was instantly lost in the burning intensity she saw there.

There was a storm of emotion between them, a dark cauldron every bit as roiling and wild as the gale raging above ground. Mesmerized, she could only stare up at him. His fingertips brushed the hair from her neck. Sent fire racing through her bloodstream. Where he had been businesslike and abrupt with Jubal, he was gentle, even tender as he enfolded Joie closer. He bent his head to hers.

Gabrielle made a small cry of protest, stepped toward them with every intention of stopping him. Traian lifted his head, his eyes glowing with a strange fiery red, halting her in her tracks. His eyelids drifted down, his arm curling around Joie possessively so that she nearly disappeared from sight, completely engulfed in his embrace. There was something very protective, yet predatory in his posture.

His lips barely skimmed over Joie’s skin. She felt it. A brush of butterfly wings, no more, yet that slight touch sent heat spreading through her body. He kissed her eyes until she closed them. Sensations increased. He whispered to her, in her mind an intimate, soft litany of words in an ancient tongue. His voice wrapped her in velvet, an erotic spell of enchantment she willingly embraced.

Joie felt his breath warm on her neck. His tongue swirled over her pulse. Once. Twice. Her entire body clenched, every muscle contracting breathlessly. Waiting. Wanting. His lips feathering over her neck sent heat pooling low, and her legs went weak. One arm, of its own accord, slid upward to curl around his head, to draw him closer, cradle him to her. White-hot lightning pierced her skin. Sent whips of lightning dancing in her bloodstream, a pleasure bordering on pain. Nothing had prepared her for the sheer erotic fire coursing through her body. A soft moan escaped her. She moved restlessly against him.

Traian pulled her closer, imprinting his body against hers, feeling every lush curve and soft, rounded line. Lifemate. He had waited so long. Endured so much. There was no shield providing her with a protective barrier. She knew exactly what he was doing and yet she accepted him, accepted his need for her blood. It rushed through his body with the force of a freight train; his shrunken, starving cells soaked it up; tissue and muscle and damaged organs demanded sustenance. He wanted to savor the moment, savor his first taste of her, his first touch on her skin.

Even as Traian struggled for sufficient control to blur the horrified gazes of her siblings, he was aware of the undead struggling to rise again the two vampires rushing through the maze of halls to reach him before he could escape. He took from Joie only what he needed to have strength when the battle came. He couldn’t risk her being too weak to defend herself. They would have more than one skirmish with the undead before they were out of the labyrinth of caves.

Very gently, almost reverently, he swept his tongue across the pinpricks to close them. “Thank you, Joie.” His arms held her up, his body taking her weight.

She shivered as she lifted her lashes to study his face. At once she was caught and held in the dark depths of his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“I hate to break up the love fest the two of you are having,” Jubal snapped, “but we’ve got a little problem. The knife just fell out of the dead thing’s chest, and he’s beginning to thrash around. It isn’t a pretty sight.”

Jubal’s voice broke the spell Traian seemed to have woven around Joie. She pulled her gaze away with an effort and looked over at the creature clawing the floor of the cave. “He looks angry,” she observed.