Dark Legacy (Dark 27)

Liv scooped up a couple of cookies for the little girls, glanced at her brother and added several more. "He's always hungry," she explained.

Emeline smiled. "He certainly is." She waved at the little girl. "Go have fun."

Liv leapt off the porch and ran to join her brother and sisters. They gathered together, Danny pulling the swings to a halt while stuffing cookies into his mouth. Several times he glanced up at the night sky as if judging how long they had until sunset--and the adult Carpathians making their appearances. Again, just that simple motion of his head tilting upward reminded Emeline of something important she needed to remember, but her mind felt fogged.

The children ran to the stone dragons, all laughing softly. It was Liv's laughter that she focused on, the sound beautiful to her after all the horrors the child had suffered. She propped her chin in her hand, elbow on the little table, aware her head felt too large, her brain fuzzy. She didn't mind the feeling--at least it was pleasant, and as long as she stayed fixated on the children, she didn't feel the pain clawing at her stomach and the cries of terror reverberating through her mind.

Danny helped Lourdes onto the blue dragon. It was large and scaly, its tail long and spiked. Lourdes sat on its back, her knees gripping hard as she leaned forward to whisper into its ear while she patted the long neck.

He picked up Bella next and placed her on the red dragon. Like Lourdes, she stroked and caressed the stone scales and spikes. Danny wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered in her ear. She nodded several times.

Emeline frowned. Something about his posture, the way his dark jeans looked leaning against the crimson red of the dragon, moved through her mind slowly. Something was there just out of reach, something she needed to catch hold of, but her mind refused to cooperate. The more she tried to grasp the memory, the more it eluded her.

The wind rushed through the compound, stirring the leaves on the ground so once again they rose, this time swirling around the dragons and children. Danny leapt on the back of the brown dragon and Amelia the orange one. They mounted them as if they'd been riding dragons for a hundred years. Emeline couldn't help but admire the way they moved so easily and smoothly, but now that memory was right there, right on the outer periphery of her mind. So close. A nightmare . . .

Liv approached the green dragon, talking softly. Emeline couldn't hear what she said, but the green dragon's spiked tail twitched. The big creature lowered its neck toward the little girl and she petted the wedged head before moving around to climb up the tail. Once seated, she turned her face toward the sky. Clouds drifted overhead. They were gray and massive, stretching out above the compound like a blanket.

Emeline studied those clouds with a little frown. She didn't like the way they blocked out what was left of the sun, and she'd seen them before. The children laughed and called to one another in excitement, the sound of their mischievous voices coming at her as if in a dream, far away, but she was so tired she couldn't rouse herself, even to see what the children were up to.

Her eyelids were so heavy she couldn't lift them beyond mere slits. The sun hadn't set, but she knew it was close. She always went back inside her house at sunset. If she didn't . . . Well, that didn't bear thinking about. Still, there was something elusive in her mind, drifting through like a jarring note in a symphony, something she couldn't quite grasp but knew was important.

Gripping the green dragon with her knees, Liv lifted her hands and began weaving a complicated pattern in the air. Dreamily, Emeline watched the patterns, Liv's hands swaying gracefully in the air. Her murmurs were soft but they carried, as if she uttered commands. Thunder rolled. Dry lightning cracked. The leaves rose like geysers, forming towers high into the air all around the stone dragons. Nightmare. Her nightmares.

Alarm rang like a bell through Emeline's mind. Harsh. Jangling. A shadow moved in there. Dark. Twisted. Gleeful. A whisper. Deep inside her, she heard screaming. Something hard kicked her stomach, raked at her insides. "No." She whispered it, watching in horror as across the play yard, Genevieve's book fell to the ground as she slumped over, asleep.

"No," she whispered again, forcing her mind to work through the terror of that dark force creeping in through the slit that lightning had made between two clouds. The mass above the compound churned and roiled, looking suspiciously like a witches' brew.

The sun sank as the dragons spread their wings and leapt, taking to the air, circling higher and higher until they were reaching for those dark, ugly clouds. "No," Emeline said again and stood. On shaky legs, she ran off her porch. "Liv. Come back. You don't know what you're doing. He's waiting. He's out there waiting."

The clouds glowed orange and red all through the seams of rolling black. Fireballs erupted, spewing like well-thrown grenades at the dragons in the air while others rained down on the compound. Liv had effectively destroyed the safeguards so carefully woven each dawn by the Carpathians. She'd watched and remembered the pattern and had removed them, allowing the monsters access to their home.

The children screamed as the dragons took them higher to get away from the attack, but the fireballs followed, shooting at them, striking the large bodies and knocking the orange and brown dragons out of the sky. They fell, rolling, badly wounded, Amelia and Danny clinging to their respective dragons' necks as they tumbled toward the ground.

Emeline rushed toward Genevieve. She was still out--clearly Liv had cast a sleeping spell--and she was totally vulnerable. She hadn't taken more than three steps when the ground opened up in front of her. On either side of her. Behind her. She halted, terrified. Before her stood Vadim Malinov.

He looked beautiful--handsome, young. He was the epitome of handsome by modern standards, a man who could grace the cover of any magazine. He smiled at her and bowed a low, courtly bow. When he smiled, his teeth were perfect, so straight and white that he probably dazzled the ones he bestowed his smiles on--but not her. She knew better. Her heart pounded and she stood frozen, unable to scream or run. Unable to get away.

"At last, my dear. You should have come to me when I called you. Now you've left me no choice but to punish you."

The smile was gone and he took one step and caught her by the hair, bunching the long tangles in his fist and jerking her head close to his. "You will pay for your disobedience. Every one of those children will die."

2

A whisper of unease ran through the soil deep beneath the earth. That small shudder awakened Dragomir Kozel as he lay in the loam, the rich minerals providing his body with healing and peace. The tendril of evil was barely felt, a slight shifting slithering through the layers of dirt, reaching down, reaching up, spreading like a virus.

Evil had a feel to it. Despite it being such a thin thread, Dragomir recognized that ancient spell for what it was. He doubted if any other Carpathian could feel it. One or two perhaps, but like him, they would be locked beneath the earth until the sun set. In the meantime, that insidious evil worked its malevolent magic, opening pathways beneath Tariq and Charlotte Asenguard's compound. Safeguards were in place, above, below and surrounding, so there shouldn't have been a way in, yet there was no denying that the ground shuddered and flinched away from that snake slithering through the layers of soil.

There had to be a traitor staying within the compound, one weaving spells to weaken the safeguards. Tariq collected humans, children and adults alike, opening his fortress to those in need, and that put him--and everyone else--at risk. Dragomir was patient; there was little he could do until the sun sank from the sky, but he tried to figure out which of the humans worked with the vampires to bring down the Carpathians. Tariq employed a human security force. Perhaps one of them?

Although Dragomir had never been interested in humans, because Tariq surrounded himself with so many, he'd made an effort to be introduced to the members of the security force. In his exceedingly long lifetime, he'd never considered the concept of humans protecting Carpathians. It had always been the other way around. What humans could stand

up to a vampire?

Matt Bennett, head of Tariq's human security force, guarded the compound during the day. He had served in the military as a Navy SEAL. Matt had gathered a group of elite soldiers together. Every member of the security force had served their country with distinction. Tariq had trained them to fight vampires. They knew how to kill the undead and were aware that the penalty for disclosing the fact that vampires and Carpathians even existed was death. These were men used to keeping secrets--just about every mission they'd run had been classified.

Tariq had, of course, taken their blood, but Dragomir had done so as well, just to ensure everyone was safe. He was surprised that Bennett stood so stoically, not so much as flinching as the ancient took his blood and examined his memories. Like Tariq, he gave the man a small amount of his blood on the pretense of communicating with him should there be need, but in reality, for Dragomir, it was another precaution. He would always know where the man was and what he was doing. He touched the man's mind. He was using high-powered binoculars to watch the children from his position at the far end of the compound and he didn't like what they were doing at all.

Dragomir made everyone--including Matt Bennett--uneasy for a good reason. He was dangerous. He knew that. He looked at everyone as enemy or prey. Still, there was no excuse that he hadn't gone near the women or children. It was a mistake on his part to dismiss them. He should have carefully vetted them. Someone had weakened the defenses of the compound, and the master vampire, Vadim Malinov, always waiting to strike, had taken advantage.

Dragomir was certain that strain of magic belonged to Vadim. He'd come across his trail several times over the centuries, and there was a particular feel to that of each Carpathian, distinguishing them from others. If a Carpathian chose to give up his soul, he still took his singular composition with him. He had no doubt that this was the work of Vadim Malinov.

He welcomed the battle with the master vampire. His time was long past, and trying to live in a world he didn't understand had driven home the fact that he had been right to secret himself in the monastery, high in the Carpathian Mountains where he couldn't harm anyone. The only honorable purpose left to him was to hunt down the master vampire and rid the world of such evil. Then he could go back to the monastery and keep walls between him and the outside world for as long as it took for him to die--if he could die. He would welcome death. Living an endless, gray existence had taken its toll on him.

Dragomir had wanted to leave Tariq's compound, to have as little contact with any others as he could. Carpathians or humans, neither was part of his world anymore. He didn't belong in this modern world. He'd left the monastery in the Carpathian Mountains for the first time in hundreds of years with one thought--the hope that he could find his lifemate. Now, he knew, even if he found her, his time was already past. He could never live with a modern woman, and she could never live with him. He had stayed too long in a world that had changed beyond every imagining. He had survived countless battles and many mortal wounds, yet in the end, it had been for nothing. Time had been his greatest enemy, and it had defeated him.

He focused on the soil and the way the rich minerals shrank away from the snaking tendril of evil as it made its way through the layers of earth to get to a preordered destination. In his mind, he mapped out the compound, following the shudders and shrinking in an effort to figure out just what Vadim's plan was. The wisp of evil avoided the main house where Tariq and Charlotte resided, but moved beneath the play yard where the children were. The thin tendril became a vine snaking through the soil, branching out, spreading seedpods beneath the play yard as well as around the woman's house. Emeline. He knew her name, when he had avoided knowing so many others.

He carefully assessed the situation, building his battle plan. Tariq and Charlotte were away from the compound. They'd gone to San Francisco to spend a little time alone together. Dragomir found it very telling that they were gone and whoever had weakened their defenses had chosen the time of their absence to make their move. He was the only one, as far as he knew, that had chosen to sleep beneath the compound.

Valentin Zhestokly was gone. His lifemate was far too young to make a claim and he was too close to the edge to be around her. He wouldn't have gone far, but far enough that he might not make it back until the battle was over. Maksim and Blaze, co-owners of the nightclubs and owners of the bordering property, had stayed late overseeing one of the nightclubs and were sleeping beneath it, a good distance away. Who did that leave close?

Afanasiv Balan was a very dangerous Carpathian. Known in their world as Siv, he was extremely dangerous, possibly even more so than Dragomir. He would be a valuable asset, and he'd come at Tariq's call to aid him in setting up the compound. The nightclub owner and Afanasiv had been friends of sorts for centuries. He might be near.

Nicu Dalca had come at Tariq's call as well. Nicu was lightning fast. Few could equal his speed, and in a battle he was sheer, brutal poetry. There was no way to know if he was still in the area or if he'd chosen to leave after the last battle. Ancient Carpathian hunters tended to move on very quickly, looking for the next fight.

Tomas, Lojos and Mataias, the triplets, always traveling together, hadn't been seen for the last two weeks. That meant nothing. They could be close as well. He just couldn't count on them to get there immediately. So, he had to hold out maybe five to seven minutes. In a battle that was a very long time. Extremely long. Vadim would throw everything he had at them.

Dragomir sighed. He would need the human security force. Right now, he couldn't move, paralyzed as he was by the time of day, but he could hear the sound of children laughing and the low murmur of conversation--the woman and a child. The woman. Emeline Sanchez. He'd never actually met her, but he realized he should have. He hadn't eavesdropped on her conversations, either--but again, he should have. Even now, try as he might, he couldn't quite catch the sound of her voice, as if she had found a way to shield it. She was a huge question mark because she avoided everyone, including her best friend, Blaze, Maksim's lifemate.

The real reason he'd stayed away, though, was because Dragomir was a little obsessive about her. Not that he'd recognized it until this very moment. He didn't feel emotions, so it should be impossible to be obsessive, yet he now realized he'd been thinking about the woman far too much--and not thinking clearly enough when he did. Especially considering that he wasn't the only one obsessed with the human. Vadim Malinov was as well. And that meant this entire attack was almost certainly about Emeline and Vadim's need to reacquire her.

All during the day the storm had been building. He hadn't seen it, he'd been deep underground in the sleep of his kind, but he'd felt it. Every Carpathian could feel when the earth was disturbed. Thunder rolled, a deep baritone that rumbled for longer than one expected, hard enough that it sent a vibration through the ground.

Dragomir might know his time was long past. He might want to go back to the monastery, where he knew he wouldn't harm an innocent, but he also knew he was an ancient hunter and he would never leave when a battle was imminent.

Vadim was a master vampire. Wholly evil. That was part of Dragomir's world. He understood evil. He had spent several lifetimes battling foul monsters. The monastery had afforded him a kind of peace, if a man like him could ever be at peace. What did Vadim want with Emeline? With the children? He knew Vadim had taken the woman and held her for a short time before the Carpathians had rescued her. She kept to herself in the house across from the main one, sometimes sitting on the porch, but most of the time locked behind the door.

He'd thought about her, wondering if she could be the way to track Vadim. From what Dragomir had learned--and he'd made it his business to study the undead--she was the reason Vadim had chosen to remain in an area thick with hunters . . . and not just any hunters, but ancients. They were Carpathians skilled so far beyond what the newer generations were capable of, it defied description. Any other vampire--including any master vampire--would have fled. Yet Vadim remained.

>

The eldest Malinov was reputed to be highly intelligent. He'd embraced modern technology--something Dragomir should have done but hadn't. Vadim had amassed an army, using human male psychics as well as lesser vampires. Carpathians had neglected to think about what those male psychics might be able to do. Clearly, the master vampire was planning something huge and Emeline figured in those plans.

New laughter joined that of the children, distracting him from his thoughts. The sound was soft. Melodious. Edged with a magic. It was simple magic, childish really. So much so, that the moment the spell drifted on the wind, it caught the attention of the spreading malevolence belowground. At once the earth shuddered again, the tremble the smallest of earthquakes, barely felt, more like a ripple of jubilation that raced toward the surface. The ancient malignant spell bound itself to the childish one, feeding power and the whisper of darkness, slowly and inevitably corrupting what the child was doing.

Dragomir clenched his teeth, the first movement his paralyzed body managed when the sun had not yet set. He concentrated next on moving his hand even as he stirred the earth above him with his mind. He had to go very slowly, so as not to alert the spreading vines of evil lurking beneath the ground. He rose inch by inch, toward the surface. He was a big man and displacing that much soil without warning Vadim's spy was difficult. But he'd learned many tricks in his extremely long lifetime.

Moving the dirt above him and replacing it below him with equal parts at the exact same moment he drifted up to fill the empty space he'd made was all a matter of exquisite timing and touch. He was a warrior, skilled beyond most in every kind of weapon, hand-to-hand and also mind and magic battles, yet he had perfected the softest touch. He'd learned over centuries that a soft touch could be just as deadly as the strongest and fastest strike.

Close to the surface, his skin prickled in alarm. The older he'd gotten and the more kills he'd made, the less he could tolerate the sunlight. He rarely rose right at sunset, knowing just being touched by the rays of the sun, as weak as they might be at that time, was painful and he'd carry burns for several risings after. He had no choice; the moment he could, he would have to rise to counteract whatever plan Vadim had. He was certain the master vampire had been scheming for just such an event, working to make it happen, and that meant Vadim was well prepared.