Dark Challenge

Desari felt the touch of unclean hands wrapped around her throat. As the hideous grip tightened, she felt the shock of the monster's discovery. This was the ancient, the undead who had destroyed Julian's childhood. Whatever this evil thing had wanted before, it now wanted to destroy her lifemate. Focused on capturing the weakened Syndil, and busy studying the family unit, it had not even known that Julian was close until it had touched her.



The moment Nosferatu had traced Desari's voice back to her, he had scented Julian as surely as if he had been standing beside her. She was angry with herself for not masking Julian's presence in her mind or his scent on her body. She was certainly skilled enough to accomplish such a minor thing; she just hadn't thought of it. In all their talks of partnership, she always acknowledged Julian the superior in battle, yet she had considered herself up to whatever was necessary. Now she was ashamed and embarrassed by her failure to protect him.



As the all too real illusion of bony fingers around her neck tightened even more, she simply stayed still, her voice not coming from her throat but from her heart, pouring out of her like a silver stream of love and compassion, of fearless strength and eternal honor. The vampire could not maintain his hold for long from a distance. Her neck began to grow warm, distracting her for a moment until she realized the undead's fingers were being burned by the touch of her skin. Was that something Julian was doing? Desari detached herself from her body so that she would not feel the skeletal fingers attempting to choke the life out of her, attempting to silence the purity of her voice for all time.



She knew the vampire was not actually touching her. It was an illusion, one that could kill but still an illusion. Desari didn't falter with her song, not for an instant. She kept her thoughts centered on Syndil.



Stay with me. Stay with us. I will always need you in my life. Never leave us. Do not allow your precious gift to go from this world when it is so badly needed. Stay with me, Syndil. Beloved sister, my grief would know no bounds were we to lose you. Stay with me. Fight this monster who threatens to take you from your true family. Never deprive those of us who love and respect you of your presence in our lives.



The notes of the music said even more than the words. They sang of deep emotion, of loving. They sang of compassion and understanding, of a need so great, of love that could never be shaken, the complete, unconditional love of a sister.



The notes and the emotion ensnared Syndil as nothing else could have. Syndil's guilt was overwhelming her, filling her gentle soul until her heart cried droplets of ruby-red blood. She believed she had somehow summoned this demon, this vampire who was determined to destroy her entire family. If she gave herself to him, if she sacrificed the rest of her life, perhaps she could save them. He was continually pulling at her, feeding her guilt. He was confusing her mind so that she didn't know what was real and what he had wrought with his trap. Had her soul cried out to his, begged him to find her, to release her from her endless existence, as he was insisting?



No!



That was Barack. There was something different in him these days. He had denied a sibling relationship with her, ordered her around as if he had the right and she had not earned her place within their family unit. Yet he had put his life on the line, fighting one of the undead when it had come for her, wanting her to join its ranks of filth and vileness. Even now, Barack was not allowing this evil one to take her.



The voice in Syndil's head softened almost to the point of tenderness. A falsehood, she was certain. Barack could inject anything into his voice and his sensual features, make any woman believe he could care. But he was an ancient one, one who could not really feel anything.



You have done nothing to draw this evil one to you, Syndil. There is no evil in you, no wickedness. You are the light in our lives, as is Desari. Without you, there is no existence. I will not allow him to take you from us, from me. Know this, woman: if you do not stand with me, merge completely and allow our combined strength to fight his hold on you, then I will follow wherever he takes you and battle to the death for your return.



There was such resolve in Barack's voice, Syndil could do no other than believe him. Yet merging her mind so completely would open to Barack every memory she kept locked away even from herself. She would never be able to look at him again, to face him, knowing he had seen the attack Savon had made on her body. He would know her every thought. The humiliation and fear. The degradation. Even worse, he would know her secret, innermost thoughts, the ones she withheld even from herself. A low moan escaped, and she felt the vampire tighten his hold. This she could not do. Not for any of them, not even her beloved Desari. She could not allow herself or Barack to read those secret desires and needs.



Barack struck without warning, going from passive restraint to swift and immediate action. His mind thrust itself into hers, taking possession of her as surely as if he had claimed her body for his own. Syndil found she could not resist him, whether because she was just too drained by the energy she had expended healing the earth or because she was helpless before the determination, the single-mindedness of Barack. Perhaps all along he had been far more powerful than she had imagined. Whatever the reason, he meant exactly what he had threatened. He would follow her wherever she went and fight to the death to return her to their family unit. He would never give her up to the evil one. Syndil finally took the least line of resistance and threw her strength in with his.



Desari fed the two of them with her own power and voice, applying steady pressure against the hold the vampire had on Syndil. She could feel the undead's fingers slipping from around her own throat. He could not sustain his energy in so many different directions. If he was to fight to retain Syndil within his trap, he had to release Desari. As the stranglehold lessened, Desari's voice continued to pour out in a stream of beauty and triumph, a songbird free to roam the skies, to aid all within range of her voice.



Darius heard the silvery notes, joyous, a celebration of life. Around him, in the nearby fields and streams, he caught the reaction of the wildlife to her voice. It swelled into the wind and was carried easily across the blackened ruins of the forest. It held the ghouls silent as they began their charge. They thought him helpless, caught in the snare of their master's trap, the binding spell making him their prisoner, yet Desari's voice prevented such a thing. Her notes, resounding in his head, kept him safe as nothing else could.



His sister. She had always filled him with such awe. So beautiful from the inside out. Her womanly magic, a force for good, was far more powerful than what he wielded. Because he no longer was able to feel, he held fast to his memories of her. In this battle he relied on her voice. She would not fail to hold Syndil. Her voice could do no other than torment the vampire, weakening him further.



Darius felt the earth tremble, knew the struggle the undead was having with Barack, Syndil, and Desari. He knew the precise moment the monster allowed Syndil to slip through his fingers. Darius felt the hesitation in power, the shift. As the ghouls launched their combined attack, the vampire burst through the earth's soil in an all-out assault against Julian.



Darius waited until the last possible moment, holding himself still, arms outstretched, a seeming sacrifice to the evil one. His face was turned up to the heavens, the darkened clouds and arcing lighting, the wind whipping his jet-black hair around him. He slowly lowered his head so that his merciless eyes encompassed the rushing ghouls. Fiery flames seemed to dance in the depths of his gaze. He looked invincible, a phantom of the night, the prince of darkness, yet his outstretched hands were turned palms up toward the heavens in supplication.



The very heavens seemed to answer his silent prayer, opening the gates so that a flood of water poured down as if a dam had broken. Through the sheets of rain ran bolts of electricity that never seemed to seek the ground. Thunder crashed and rocked the ground, deadly as any earthquake. Seams burst open in the earth, ragged tears that allowed the water to rush along like ever-swelling rivers. The ghouls had reached the very epicenter of their master's trap, their stick arms reaching to gore Darius with so many knives, yet Darius was already gone from the center of their ghastly circle. Only the sheets of water were there to pour over the wailing creatures.



Steam rose from the thin, robed figures, hissing as it released the caricatures from their bondage. Black smoke melded with the white steam, the putrid mixture rising as vapor and dissipating. Darius didn't wait to see the results of his handiwork; he was already rocketing toward the two beasts in battle, one darkly evil, one a golden warrior, slashing at one another in the sky.



The vampire, raging at the destruction of his plan, ripped at Julian's chest with razor-sharp talons, hissing hideously, spewing tainted saliva along with his wrath. He screamed his disappointment as Julian somehow miraculously twisted away from his attack, the daggerlike claws missing by a millimeter. Julian was already maneuvering around for his strike. A raging vampire was a careless one. Julian shut out all thought, all reason, all emotion. His attack was swift and brutal, scoring long furrows across the unprotected belly so that blood began to run freely in four streams. Julian moved out of the line of assault, circling.



Darius exploded into the battle, his retaliation vicious and without mercy or fear. He drove in straight for the kill. His challenge was clear. The undead could elect to stand and fight, but either way, Julian or Darius would destroy him. It was kill or be killed. If Julian and Darius were inflicted with mortal wounds, so be it. The vampire would die with them. There were no half measures in either hunter, no pity or mercy. This ancient menace had dared to challenge them. He would be destroyed.



The vampire had not lived as many centuries as he had by tempting certain death. He might be victorious against one experienced hunter, but not both. He had lost his advantage. He dissolved as quickly as he was able, streaking away through the rain-washed sky, using the storm to hide the traces of his passing.



Julian immediately mind-merged with Desari to ensure she was fine. Even as he assured himself that she had come to no harm, he was trailing the vampire, using the droplets of blood to stay on the trail. The storm was diluting the poisonous brew, but Julian would know that scent anywhere. The stench was in his own blood, his soul, in the dark shadowing that had robbed him of his twin, his family and people. The undead had long tormented him, but now had committed an unpardonable sin, had attempted to harm his lifemate. As far as Julian was concerned, there was no other choice but to destroy him. His entire life's training had been for this moment.



Darius, too, was moving so quickly through the sky that he was a mere blur. He had no intention of allowing this vampire to go free. This evil one had challenged his ability to guard his family, and he was more than willing to pick up the gauntlet. The blood was almost impossible to trace now, so Darius allowed the fury of the storm to wane. The stick figures below were annihilated, the rain dissipating the dark shadows to vapor. Syndil's healing art did the rest, prevailing against what the undead had wrought against nature and the earth. Syndil called forth the energy of the universe and the being they revered as the father of all life. Already new life was struggling to take hold, small buds pushing through the soil, seeking the moisture of the storm.



Darius had the foul stench of the monster in his nostrils and was prepared to follow him all the way back to his lair.



Back off, Darius. This is no amateur. Do not follow him to his lair. He will be far stronger there.



Darius did not acknowledge Julian's softly spoken advice. He streaked through the sky after the fading trail of droplets. Julian swore beneath his breath in several languages, knowing full well that Darius could hear him. He had no choice but to allow the family leader to accompany him. The vampire might flee to avoid this confrontation, but if cornered, he would be extremely dangerous. Julian knew this vampire more intimately than most, knew him to be an ancient of great power. And ancients were never easy to destroy.



Julian?



Desari's musical voice flowed into his mind to warm him.



Where are you going? I feel your worry. That arrogant brother of yours is more stubborn than anyone I have ever met, and that includes Gregori. He insists on chasing the undead back to its lair. Darius is a tremendous fighter.



There was a wealth of confidence in Desari's voice.



He would never leave a vampire alive that has shown itself to him. How could he do other? He could lure it out into the open, away from its lair, on the next rising. It is wounded, my love, and angry that it was thwarted in its attempt to acquire Syndil. It knows me and is afraid. Fear in these creatures only increases their cunning. Now it is returning to its place of safety. A vampire's lair is one of the most dangerous places on earth. I have cautioned Darius, but I cannot leave him alone to battle when I know he is moving into a trap.



Julian was winging his way through the air fast, hard on the tail feathers of Darius. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, but the air felt heavy and thick. Julian shook his head at the foolishness of what they were doing. Darius believed in the straightforward approach. At the same time, he was a lethal adversary, one fully committed to destroying an enemy even if it meant his own life. Julian understood, but through long experience he had learned to pick his battles. Darius had to attack anything threatening those under his protection, but some part of him was urging him to fight to the death, wanting to take the vampire with him to eternal rest.



The idea of losing Darius left Desari raw with fear. And Julian found he could not bear Desari's fear. He felt the presence of evil, the thick air surrounding them making it difficult to think. It was a common trick used by the undead to buy time. Julian simply directed his body on his instincts, trusting himself and his own strength and power.



Darius had often come up against the same snare, the effort to slow them down. He charged forward in a direct flight to catch up to their enemy.



The attack came without warning from behind both of them, two experienced hunters unprepared for the hurtling spear that zeroed in on the shadow in Julian like a heat-seeking missile. Neither knew whether it was Desari's cry of fear as she launched herself skyward or their own instincts, but as Julian turned to face whatever was threatening him from behind, Darius, flying slightly above and ahead, plummeted to place his body between his sister's lifemate and the incoming spear.



The streamlined weapon the vampire had fashioned was well made and deadly. It sliced through flesh and bone, catching Darius's body, imprisoned within the bird, just below the heart.



Dayan!



Without conscious thought, Julian took over the leadership, calling the other Carpathian to their aid, then racing to catch Darius's body as it fell from the sky, at the same time searching around him for the vampire who had suddenly turned the tables and was now in the far better position to escape or attack.



Desari, breathe for him, now. Take a breath. I need you calm. Breathe for him, and keep him alive. The spear sliced his heart, and he had no choice but to cease breathing on his own. Merge with him and bind him to us.



Julian gave the order as a healer. He had learned much of the ancient art by watching Gregori, the Dark One, Darius and Desari's brother and blood kin, their people's healer.



Dayan reached them, cradling Darius in midflight, leaving Julian free to guard them as they raced toward their own safe haven, a mountain with pools of heat and fire within it. Julian's breath came out in a long, slow hiss. He could not continue to track his archenemy while Darius was in such need. Darius had saved his life and Desari's. Julian's sense of honor would never allow him to do other than what was right. The others did not have his powers of healing, although their closeness would help enormously.



Julian followed the others, guarding them from behind. His mind was already merged with Desari's so that he could better follow the patterns inside Darius's mind, so that he could examine the mortal wound even in flight. Darius had a strong constitution, a will of solid steel. Ultimately he would choose life or death for himself. No one would hold him to earth if he decided to go to eternal rest. It only strengthened Julian's own belief that Darius was blood brother to Gregori, the Dark One, the greatest hunter and healer of their time.



Barack and Syndil had already opened the mountain to make entry easier to the narrow passageway leading deep within the earth. Barack moved ahead of the group as their scout, his senses flaring out for every scrap of information he could ferret out. He looked for traces of the undead, blank spaces, strange smells, anything that might signal the presence of an enemy. Together he and Syndil worked to prepare a healing room. They found the richest soil. Syndil went down on her knees to add to the richness, chanting softly while Barack circled the cave, placing herbs and candles in a pattern along the wall.



Dayan placed Darius's body into the bed of soil so carefully prepared, and stepped back to give Julian room. Desari sank onto the edge of the sunken earthen bed, her entire attention centered on her brother. He was no more than a spirit while his body lay lifeless under her stroking hand. Tears were running unchecked down her face. She was well aware of Darius's strong will. If he chose to stay with them, it would certainly be his choice alone. She could not make him do anything he didn't want to do.



He will stay with us.



Julian's calm voice was in her mind. Strong. Gentle. Certain.



Darius knows that all of you need him. He will not leave you alone until he is certain all of you will be safe without him.



Julian said it firmly, knowing Darius's spirit could easily read Desari's mind and hear his words. Desari needed reassurance badly.



Julian touched her shoulder, brushed her hair tenderly. Without looking at the others, he took a deep breath and released it, concentrating on losing himself, becoming pure energy, a white healing light that floated out of his strong body and into the body lying so still before him.



The wound was a terrible thing. The spear had entered just below the heart, tearing through sinew and tissue, arteries and veins. The tip had caught Darius's strong heart, slicing a wicked cut before driving on through almost to his back. This spear had been meant for Julian.



Most likely it would have killed him. And Desari would have died, too.



I owe you a tremendous debt, he murmured softly in his mind even as he began the difficult work of healing Darius from the inside out. Darius had managed to shut down his systems immediately, his spirit merged with Desari's that he might aid them if necessary. Julian could read the intentions of the leader as surely as if they were his own. Darius would not leave his family unprotected until he was certain Julian could take his place.



And then Julian was nothing but light and energy, pure white heat to be used for healing. He closed the terrible wounds in the artery that were draining the precious fluid of life from Darius. The heart required tremendous concentration. The gash was deep, and Julian could make no mistakes. He became aware, after a time, that the sound of chanting was surrounding them. The words were ancient and soothing to him, filling him with a quiet confidence for the work he had to do. This was the most extensive repair on anyone he had attempted, and the familiar words in Desari's beautiful voice gave him needed peace. She was there with him every step of the way, holding Darius to her, lending her strength to Julian even as her voice surrounded them with the healing words of the ancients. He was aware of the others joining in the melodious chant, lending their voices to the healing process.



Becoming pure energy tired any healer quickly. It was a difficult process to put one's body aside thusly. At the end Julian felt so drained that he slipped from Darius's body and found himself staggering, his enormous strength gone. He sank down onto the soft earth and allowed his head to fall forward so that his long hair hid the deep lines of strain in his face.



Desari stroked a long caress through the tangle of golden hair, her heart beating a steady rhythm to support her lifemate. Julian was so like her brother. He simply, masterfully, took control of a situation and did what had to be done. The two were very similar in character. She felt the stirring in her mind. Not the path she shared with Julian, but rather the familiar one she had known for so many centuries. Darius would live.



Dayan had moved into a position where he could watch the procedure closely. "He is going to live?" The question was addressed to Julian rather than Desari, a tentative olive branch from the second in command.



Julian glanced up at him, fatigue etching harsh lines in his features. "Darius will not leave this world until he is ready to do so. Then there will be no one who can stop him. He will live, but he needs blood and rest. All of us must feed well that we can supply him. He will need to be safeguarded at all times. The vampire is aware Darius is injured and thinks him vulnerable now. He will actively seek his resting place in hopes of an easy kill."



Beside him Desari stirred in protest, her slender body suddenly pressing itself against Julian's as if for protection. Julian responded immediately, his arm drawing her to him, shielding her from the world. "There will be no easy kill, Desari. Darius, even in his present state, is dangerous. His mind alone holds enough power for the kill. Do not fear for him. In any case, we will provide safeguards to protect him should the vampire get past any of us."



"He will come after you." Syndil spoke the words softly, her voice so beautiful it seemed to reach out and touch Julian's soul. "He hates you all, every male, and intends to use me to destroy you." She raised her eyes to Julian. "But he hates you most of all. He thought to control you, and he cannot. I felt his rage."



Julian's glittering eyes examined the woman standing with her head bowed a little distance from the others. She was very pale, her eyes enormous. She looked fragile and vulnerable, as if she might break should the wind blow too strongly. He felt Desari twine her fingers through his as if to prevent him from speaking. Barack stirred, a restless, fierce movement the women misinterpreted as aggression. Julian read it as fiercely protective. Barack saw himself as a shield between Syndil's vulnerability and all others who might hurt her inadvertently or, worse, on purpose.



"He cannot use you against us, Syndil. You are our beloved sister and under our protection, just as the earth is under yours. Your power is too strong for this evil creature to corrupt." When he spoke, Julian chose each word carefully, adding a subtle "push" with his velvet voice. "He wishes you to believe you draw evil to you, but it is only one of his illusions. The undead have many traps they use in the hopes of ensnaring one of us. I have spent centuries hunting these creatures, and I have seen such traps targeted for specific individuals. You cannot be touched by his taint. It is impossible, as you are too pure. I know this through my mind merge with Desari. Every one of us knows this."



Syndil's long lashes swept her cheeks. "I do not know this."



Barack stirred again, a low growl rumbling within his throat. At once, Syndil's slender frame began to shape-shift, wavering somewhere between that of a human female and a female leopard.



Desari, you must tell Barack to give her more space.



Julian knew better than to challenge the adult male. Darius might do so, but Julian doubted it. Sometimes Carpathian males allowed their protective natures to overcome their good sense. Barack was not likely to back off just because an older, stronger, more dominant male told him to. Desari had a much better chance of getting Barack to back off with her soft, winning way and her magical voice. Julian didn't blame the man; Barack felt fiercely protective of Syndil and was still in a dangerously combative state. Once the demon within was aroused, it was difficult to overcome the savage, predatory instincts of their kind.



Desari's answer was so perfect, it was all Julian could do not to clasp her to him. She didn't so much as glance at Julian or in any way act as though they had communicated. "Syndil." She whispered the woman's name softly, lovingly, so that the leopard shimmered between human form and animal. "Do not leave me as yet. I am in sore need of your comfort." Desari projected just the right note of weariness into her voice, and even Julian was a believer.



How could she not be tired after her tremendous ordeal? Of course she was. He could feel it in her now as her body swayed slightly against his. Her large eyes touched Barack's stone-hard features.



I know she wishes to flee, Barack, but if you would, please step aside and allow her to come to me. I have a great need to be with my sister. You have the golden one to aid you, Desari.



Barack's words were harsh, but even as he sent the message winging through the air between them, he moved away from Syndil, allowing her a clear path to Desari.



It was Desari who moved, rather than Syndil, covering the distance between them in a few unhurried steps. As they came together, their arms surrounding one another, they simply disappeared from the men's sight.



Barack swore aloud and turned burning eyes on Julian. "There is the matter of the undead before us, and we have not fed, nor have our women."



Julian shrugged with his casual strength coming easily, fluidly to his feet as if he was as fresh as at first rising. "Then we must see to their needs," he responded quietly, sidestepping the bristling Carpathian.



Barack shoved a hand through his long hair, furious for no reason at all. He had never felt so edgy, so on the verge of violence before. He wanted to make the kill. To have such a foul, unclean creature as the undead come so close to capturing one of their family was unthinkable. There were four males to guard the women, yet the trap had been sprung, and Syndil once more had been the victim of an attack. It made him feel like clawing and raking the heavens above. It made him feel a failure. He had promised himself it would never happen to her again, yet that filthy abomination had managed to touch her mind, made her doubt herself, made her relive Savon's brutal attack and believe she was in some way to blame.



"Julian." Dayan was studying the Carpathian with knowing eyes. "It takes a tremendous amount of energy to heal a wound such as this one. Go with Barack and feed heavily, that the two of you can provide for our family. I will guard those here. Do not fear the task is too great. I may choose to follow my brother, but I am capable of fighting should there be need."



Julian waved a hand to close the ground over Darius, weaving intricate safeguards to ensure the leader's rest wasn't disturbed while he was gone. He nodded to Dayan, already rising to make his way from the mountain. If he didn't hunt prey soon, he would be sending his lifemate out to do it for him.



Soft laughter immediately enveloped him.



I heard that thought. I was certain you would, beautiful one. I will return immediately. Do not allow Syndil to disappear on us. Right now she is in more danger from herself than from any vampire.



Desari sighed softly, her breath whispering along the inside of his mind.



It is true, Julian. She feels as if she is responsible for placing all of us in danger. I am trying, but...



The thought trailed off, and Julian felt Desari's sorrow.



Piccola, do not worry so. We will not allow anything to happen to your family.



A note of amusement crept in.



I cannot wait for your arrogant brother to rise. I will taunt him repeatedly over how I had to repair the damage to his family unit. I am sure you will.



Julian burst into the dawn air, the light striking cruelly at his eyes. A part of him was locked to Darius. He had been inside the man, a part of him, just as Darius had done for him. They were linked strongly to one another. And Julian was not altogether certain he had as much faith and trust in the other males of the family as Darius seemed to show. Either of them could be close to turning, and masking it. Leaving Darius so vulnerable, lying as one dead, where a trusted friend could so easily slay him, kept Julian locked to his lifemate's brother. Desari had given him what he had lost centuries earlier; she had given him a family. He would do all he could to protect it.



The wind brought the scent of prey to him, and he altered his course with ease. He streaked across the sky, uncaring whether or not Barack was following. He intended to make certain he was gone only a short time.



I thought you said Darius was still dangerous, even as he lies sleeping.



Julian sighed. He should have known Desari would so easily read his thoughts, just as he could always touch hers.



It is so, cara, he is very dangerous. You can feel his power radiate from him. But I am not certain he would be expecting the attack to come from one of his own. There is no one who could surprise Darius ever again. Except perhaps...



Julian could feel Desari pause and give consideration to her statement. Then the little minx had a flashing thought, hastily censored. She was up to something, no doubt about it. Julian didn't mind - as long as her brother, not he, was the intended recipient of her scheming.