Christine Feehan: Dark Challenge (Dark Series - book 5)

As Julian materialized behind him, the vampire whirled around with a low cry. Julian smiled politely. “It has been long, Bernado. Much too long. I was but a boy, and you were telling me you were off to the libraries of Paris, in search of historical documents that might give our people a clue as to what really happened between Gabriel and Lucian. Did you ever find such a thing?” His voice was a soft blend of purity and confidence.

Bernado, monster of his dreams, his life. This cunning, crafty ancient who liked to consider himself a great scholar.

Bernado blinked, taken aback by the casual conversation. It was totally unexpected. He had not had a conversation with anyone in over two hundred years. “That is so. I was looking. I remember now.” His voice was gravelly but thoughtful, as if he had to reach back to find the moment in time. “I found two entries that might have alluded to them. One was in a personal journal, that of a count. He wrote that he saw two demons fighting near the cemetery right there in Paris. That the fight went on for some time, a vicious battle but almost choreographed, as if each combatant knew what the other would do before he had done so. He claimed the two continually changed from one being into another. He wrote that both fighters appeared to have suffered terrible wounds, yet there was no trace of either fighter and no blood on the ground when he was able to get close enough to examine the cemetery. He told no one of his sighting for fear of being ridiculed.”

“It does seem possible, then, that you uncovered something our people have searched centuries for.” There was praise in Julian’s soft voice. “And the other entry? Where did you find that?” It had been the excitement and lure of this mystery that had first ensnared Julian’s interest in Bernado’s studies all those years ago.

“It was a mere line or two in a record kept by a supervisor of the cemetery workers. A personal record, no more. It alluded to one of his workers, who he suspected had drunk far too much wine one night. It was the same date as that of the count’s memory. The supervisor wrote that one of his men told of a fight among wolves and demons that ended in mortal wounds. He would no longer go into the cemetery and work, as he was certain the demons had risen from the graves.”

Julian nodded. “You were once a man I thought had greatness in you. I looked up to you. To your learnedness. But you betrayed that trust.”

The vampire blinked at him, uncertain about his mild tone. “You wanted knowledge. I gave it to you.”

Julian could feel the power building in him, around him, in the very air itself. Century after century, each dark, barren rising, the aching need for his twin, the lost fledgling years. It was rising in him, the bleakness, the emptiness, the dark stain of humiliation and isolation. All he’d had left was his honor. His Prince and the healer had known and had recognized his need to be of value to his people, but this monster before him had altered the course of his life for all time.

“You gave me a living death, Bernado.” Julian moved then, with blurring speed, whipping toward the ancient monster as the creature suddenly surged forward. His fist was outstretched and plunged deep into the chest cavity, using the vampire’s forward motion to aid his attack. “I studied your methods, every kill.” He whispered the words, his golden eyes gleaming savagely. “You taught me the importance of knowledge, of knowing your enemy, recognizing him, and I learned well.” He wrenched the pulsating heart out of the chest and leapt away with the withered, blackened organ in his hand. It sickened him. There was no triumph as he thought there would be.

The vampire screamed in rage, a high, unearthly sound that hurt the ears and sent wildlife scurrying for cover. “You learned well the kill because I live in you,” he hissed, poisonous saliva spewing from his mouth. “You are no different than me. You wanted to be like me, but you did not have the guts to embrace the life.”

Bernado staggered toward him, his rotten teeth jagged and stained from thousands of kills, his body beginning to collapse in on itself. Julian stepped back farther, full) aware the aberration was still dangerous as long as the heart was in proximity to the body. He flung it

away

and directed a blade of light to incinerate it. At once the body began to flop around, spewing tainted blood that crept toward him relentlessly. Julian calmly sent the energy toward the body and then the blood, removing all evidence of Bernado’s existence. At last he used the white-hot heat to sear away the taint from his hands. From his soul.

It was over. At long last. It was over. He had never felt such sorrow, an oppressive, nearly numbing force weighing him down. He found himself down on one knee, his body shaking, his chest burning. This thing had nearly destroyed his life, had taken so much from him. The vampire had made him believe it was invincible and Julian had spent centuries,

centuries

acquiring knowledge for this one moment in time. It was over in seconds. Only seconds. When the vampire had cost him so much.

Bernado was right. He had turned Julian into the very thing he despised. A killer without equal. The shadow had grown and spread, consuming him. Julian’s face was wet with tears as he looked up at the night sky. He was a monster without equal.

A

hunter

without equal. Come to me, Julian.

Desari’s soft voice washed over him like a cool, fresh breeze.

I do not think I can face the crowd there, beloved one.

He answered her honestly. He was used to a solitary existence, and at this moment, when the weight of his life’s sorrows hung on him, when he realized the numbers of his people he had slain, when the cost of losing his twin for all those long centuries burdened his soul and shattered his heart, when he felt like a boy, shamed and damned by his own reckless youth, he wanted to be away from others.

Would it help if I came to you, my love?

There was the merest hesitation, as if she was afraid he didn’t want her near.

Despite the stony ache in his heart, he found himself nearly smiling. How could he not want her at his side? His heart. His soul. The blood running in his veins. His other half.

It would help a great deal.

He turned his head to watch her approach. Even in flight, her movements were wholly feminine. Whether on the wing, racing on four legs through the forest, or walking within her own body, she was the most beautiful woman he could imagine. He stood up as she landed lightly on the cliff beside him. She took his breath away. His tears away. She took the dark shadow and dispersed it for all time into the night.

Desari stood with the night sky at her back, her long hair cascading around her. Her smile held so much love for him, he could only stand spellbound, enthralled for all eternity by this one woman who completed him. She had given him his life. She had given him a family. She was his home.

Julian held out his hand for her. Desari’s mouth curved invitingly. She placed her hand in his, her fingers entwining with his so that they were woven together as they were meant to be. She moved right into his arms, sheltered against his heart. She turned her mouth up to his, tasting his tears, his boyhood, the terrible burden he had borne for so long. She kissed him, her body molding to his, and in his mind her beautiful voice rose in song just for him.

The notes skipped from his mind to the sky, silver and gold notes of joy and happiness, of courage and admiration. She sang of love between two people, sacred and beautiful. She sang of peace and happiness. His hands moved over him possessively, lovingly, checking his body for wounds. Her warrior was home.

Whatever lay ahead for them, whether human assassins or vampires, it didn’t matter. They were together one and the same, and they were far too strong to allow anything to take what they had away from them.