Dark Slayer (11 page)

Xavier, unable to enter his mind, had to be attacking him from a distance. Teeth tore into his shoulder, the serrated edges slicing through bone, sinew and flesh, sawing deeper and deeper, injecting the burning parasites into the wound. He was being eaten alive—fitting justice for one such as him. His own teeth had sunk into his daughter’s tiny wrist, and he had watched in horror, unable to protect her, while Xavier had done this very thing, gnawed on her as if she were a bone, a piece of meat to be consumed, his teeth tearing her delicate skin open to get at blood and bone.

He felt the spray of acid burning through his skin, deep—deeper still, vampire blood running in rivers over his flesh, long streams of it branching out over his hands and forearms and down his shoulder, and running down his arm and chest. He recognized the feeling—his wrists and ankles and even his back had often burned from the vampire blood-coated manacles. He had earned that for his failure to keep his family members safe from Xavier. Time after time, he had fought the demon mage, but he’d never been strong enough or wise enough to defeat him.

A burst of pain through his ribs shook him, radiating through his entire body. Pain was a way of life to him. He could push it away now, absorb it into his body and let it consume him. He had long ago learned how to live with agony.

The pain was not
his
pain. It was too far away. Too distant, the reaction stoic but definitely feminine.
Ivory was in trouble
. Everything else ceased to matter. He had one reason for his existence—to protect her from any enemy at all costs.

He cleared his mind and fought back the all-consuming emotions he still found difficult to deal with. He built the image of her in his mind, the image of her as he saw her. Soft and feminine, the loving woman who belonged here, in this home of raw beauty.

Ivory. You have need. Tell me how to come to you
.

There was the smallest of hesitations.
They are hunting you
.

He didn’t argue with her. She was hurt and she was surrounded by enemies. He could feel the burn of the vampire blood, the pain gnawing at her shoulder and ribs, and the trepidation that she was weak and might not be able to fight her way clear, although she was absolutely determined to try.

Razvan filled her mind with his strength and power, feeding her while he searched her memories and found the information he needed.

Stall them. I will be there soon. Do not fight. They will not attack you as long as you talk with them.

I do not have much time
. The admission was humbling to her.
My strength is waning.

I will come. I will be there, Ivory. Do not lose hope.
He poured his determination and resolve into her mind, knowing she distrusted everyone, and with good cause. And she had every reason to fear and hate him. Xavier’s genetic code was in his body.

There was another small hesitation, and then he clearly saw the crack cleverly hidden in her bedchamber where she could slip in and out of the narrow, inches-wide chimney. There was caution in her mind.

Razvan hastened to reassure her.
I will scan carefully before I emerge so there will be no trail leading back to your lair
.

Now he had the information in his head and he had to be doubly careful that Xavier could not enter his mind. Before he moved, he took that moment to build every possible defense, thickening barriers, making himself stronger than he’d ever been. Stronger than before he entered the thin crack that most would never notice. He streamed to the surface, a threadlike trail of vapor moving upward, weaving back and forth through the layers of rock bed for what seemed an interminable amount of time before he saw a sliver of sky overhead.

I will come. I will be there, Ivory. Do not lose hope
.

In hundreds of years she had never relied on anyone but herself and her pack. She was Ivory Malinov, slayer of the dark ones, and she trusted no one, believed in no one. That way, no one could tear her heart out, physically or figuratively. She took a breath and pain nearly blinded her, made her stagger so that the dark one leapt toward her.

Ivory pulled a knife from her belt and stood facing him. She knew his reputation, but thankfully, he didn’t know hers. It was an advantage, no matter how small. He wasn’t aware the wolves were Carpathian and all the more lethal. He would try to control them—it was standard defense—but it wouldn’t work, and that would also give her a small advantage. Ordinarily she would have rushed to attack already, not wait for him to make the first move, but a part of her didn’t want to start a war with the Carpathians.

Mikhail held up his hand. “Gregori. There is no need for this.” It was a warning, delivered in a soft, almost gentle voice.

She remembered that same tone—his father’s, so gentle and benevolent, the kind eyes, the compassionate, caring wisdom. The voice of reason. He wanted only to help her. An unselfish, gentle man who lived to serve his people. Whatever was best for them. She remembered that voice all too well. The eyes looking at her, looking through her, piercing her soul, seeing her need of knowledge, her need to learn when her brothers couldn’t—or wouldn’t. That voice soothing her, telling her he would make it right, that he would talk to her brothers when they returned and explain why it was necessary for her to go to the school and learn.

The prince understood. How could he not, when he knew so much more than everyone else? How could he not, when his reasons for doing everything were to serve his people. He had known that she hungered to do more than sit in her home and wait for her lifemate. She wanted to
be
something, to
do
something. The prince understood and helped her as she had known he would.

Something twisted inside her stomach. For a brief moment she couldn’t feel the throbbing pain in her ribs or the terrible agony of her shoulder, not even the burn from the acid blood or sharp stabbing of the parasites as they bored into her cells. It had never occurred to her in her naivete that the prince had another agenda altogether—that he wanted to get rid of her, send her away because he knew his sick and twisted son would never leave her alone, and that her brothers or the De La Cruz brothers would kill Draven. Instead, she had happily gone off, believing the prince, in all his wisdom, knew so much more than her own family. She’d felt so grown up, so validated. She’d been hopelessly young and trusting in those days.

You have to hurry. I cannot hold out much longer
.

She didn’t know if her weakness was as much physical as mental. Seeing her brother had shaken her more than she’d realized. She’d vowed to avoid them and hadn’t prepared herself mentally for seeing Sergey in his state of evil. He had changed his appearance when he recognized her, giving her a glimpse of her past, of a beloved man who’d held her and rocked her and spent hours teaching her to fight.

It had made her physically ill to shoot him with an arrow. She thought she had successfully separated the past from the present in her mind, but seeing him in person wasn’t the same as thinking about him abstractly.

I am coming to you. Stall for time. Use the wolves if you must
.

“Allow our healer to help you,” Mikhail said, his voice dropping another octave, becoming almost hypnotic.

She couldn’t help but feel the pull of that pure voice, even though over centuries she’d trained herself not to fall prey to sound. Farkas pressed closer to her legs, his body trembling. He was in the same shape as she was.

“I have no need of your help, Dubrinsky,” she said, her voice haughty. “I neither ask nor want anything from you or anyone connected to you.”

Gregori’s breath came out in a long, slow hiss.

Her gaze jumped to his face, to the storm gathering in his eyes. If an attack came, it would come from him. She was weak from blood loss and pain, and was running out of time. “You evidently have never learned, in all your years of existence, how a voice can be sweet and pure to the ears, yet hide the truth behind the mask. My brothers chose the path of evil, but they were not wrong in their judgment of the Dubrinsky line. The prince you follow is not at all what you believe him to be.”

Her gaze flicked to Mikhail, holding absolute, utter contempt. “You cannot deceive me,
karpatii ku köd
—liar, I am only fooled once, and your father was a champion. I wish to leave. Are you holding me prisoner?”

There was a small silence and Gregori slowly shook his head. “Do you believe you can fight all of us and emerge the victor? You are a woman, a Carpathian woman without anyone to protect her. I am sworn to carry out my duty whether you wish it or no.”

Ivory took a breath, and let it out.
Be ready, Raja
.

The pack bared teeth and faced the threat of the Carpathian males without flinching.

Gary moved then, deliberately placing his body in front of hers, standing between her and the guardian of the prince, ignoring the threat of her pack.

“Please,” he said. “No one wants to take you prisoner. I’m offering my blood freely to you. My life for yours. I’m not certain of the formal words, but if you take what I offer, we’ll know you’ll at least have a fighting chance should you run into another vampire. No one wants to imprison you.”
⁷¹

“She is infected with the vampire’s blood,” Gregori explained. “The parasites have to be removed.”

“I am well aware of the infestation,” Ivory retorted. “I am perfectly capable of healing myself.”

Another male and female materialized just beyond the prince, and Ivory heaved a sigh, wishing she could just sink down into the snow and rest. She recognized the male, with his strong, handsome features, and a smile nearly broke out. Falcon. A friend of her family, of the De La Cruz brothers. He was a loner but a good man. She was grateful to see him, to know that at least a few of the older males still survived with their souls intact.

“Ivory!” Shock registered, shock and happiness. “
You
are the mysterious woman who saved our son?” Falcon glided forward but stopped abruptly when she stepped back and waved him off with her hand.

“
Pesäsz jeläbam ainaak
—long may you stay in the light, Falcon,” she greeted. “It has been many years.”

“You’re injured,” the woman exclaimed, hurrying forward.

Falcon stopped her by putting a restraining hand on her arm. “What is going on here?”

Ivory noted that he didn’t sound judgmental, just cautious. “I wish to leave and your prince and his servant have dictated otherwise.”

“Only to see to your health, lady,” Gregori said with a slight bow, ignoring her taunt.

The woman frowned. “I’m Sara, Falcon’s lifemate. You saved our son and we’re indebted to you. No one here wants to harm you.” She sent a small glare toward Gregori. “I can’t imagine that anyone here would want to do anything but reward you for your help. I offer freely my blood to help heal you. Both Falcon and I will do our best to heal your wounds, although Gregori is a healer without comparison. He may look intimidating, but he is really a gentle, caring man.”

“I am not intimidated by the dark one,” Ivory denied. “I wish only to go my own way.” The woman tempted her with her offer. A healing would certainly go a long way toward strengthening her, but if she took the dark one’s blood, he could track her all the more easily. Blood called to blood. And she would be so vulnerable. He could easily take her blood and then she would always have to worry that he could find her lair. As it was, Sergey knew she lived. He might get it in his head to try to find her.

She sighed and shook her head. “I regret that I cannot take you up on your generous offer, but thank you,” she said to Sara.

Raja growled a warning and she realized that Gregori had moved closer. The dark one halted when she swung toward him, angling the knife up toward the softer parts of his body.

“You would be very foolish indeed, dark one, to try it.”

“You are swaying with weariness,” Gregori said. “If I said anything to make you think I wish you harm, I apologize. Surely you can see my only concern is your health. While we stand here, the parasites have had more of a chance to spread their poison through your body.”

“I am well aware what parasites can and cannot do.”

She reached for Razvan, desperate now. The healer was closer than she was comfortable with, perhaps within striking distance. Ivory wasn’t foolish enough to disregard the man’s reputation. He was known far and wide throughout the community as a dangerous, ruthless defender of the prince and of the Carpathian people.

Unless I allow him to give me blood, I have no choice but to fight my way out.

You will not have to fight. I give my life for yours. Follow my lead. Talk to the woman, distract them for another couple of minutes.

There was something reassuring in his tone. She had left him a broken, fallen warrior, but he had risen something altogether different. There was confidence in his voice. Razvan was Dragonseeker, one of the oldest and most powerful of all Carpathian lineages, and he had endured torment and suffering for hundreds of years without succumbing to darkness. She had been in his mind, and his memory was long. He had absorbed fighting skills, techniques and strategies. He knew more about Xavier than any other living being and he had more cause to destroy him than any other. She wanted to believe in him. Shaken and weak, she
needed
to believe in him.