Blood Challenge

BLOOD LINES BOOK 2: BLOOD CHALLENGE

An Ellora’s Cave publication written by

KIT TUNSTALL

MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-600-3

Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

© Copyright Kit Tunstall, 2003.

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave.

Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. USA

Ellora's Cave Ltd, UK

This e-book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by email forwarding, copying, fax, or any other mode of communication without author/publisher permission.

Edited by
ANN RICHARDSON

Cover Art by
CHRISTINE CLAVEL

Chapter 1

“Ms. Adare?”

At the sound of her name, Ellie turned away from the attendant stacking her luggage. She eyed the large man with black hair and green eyes before her gaze moved to his shorter companion, noting what a contrast they presented. His lithe build and tamed brown curls looked strange next to the large one’s wild hair, barely contained in a short ponytail. “Doctor,” she corrected.

The larger one shrugged. “
Doctor
, your visa has been revoked.”

Her eyes widened. “What? On whose authority?”

“Anca Draganescu, the ruler of Corsova,” the shorter one said. He seemed faintly apologetic, but his voice was just as firm as his partner’s.

Ellie shook her head. “But why? I filled out the proper paperwork weeks ago.”

“Yes, ma’am, but you’re required to fill it out honestly.”

“Sorin,” the shorter one said in a low tone of voice.

Sorin continued, ignoring the warning. “If you had been honest about your reasons for visiting Corsova, you’d have been saved a long trip.”

Her hands settled on her hips as she glowered at him. “A social anthropologist does their best to blend in when the opportunity is presented to them. I may have omitted part of the reason for my visit, but I’ve done nothing wrong.” She tried pasting a coaxing smile on her heart-shaped face as she glanced at the shorter one. “Couldn’t we work this out?”

His eyes widened. “You can’t bribe us, Doctor.”

She sighed. “Fine. I want to see your ruler. I’m certain she’ll be reasonable.” After all, from what Ellie had been able to determine in her initial research, their current queen was a native New Yorker. She should be able to use the career-woman approach to get her visa reinstated.

Sorin crossed his arms. “That isn’t possible. Lucian.” He inclined his head.

Lucian extended a folder of documents to Ellie. “You’ll find a ticket for the train leaving in a few minutes, along with the documents you submitted when you applied for entrance.”

Sorin walked over to the employee who had been unloading her bags. “Load these back on the train. Dr. Adare will be returning to Constanta.”

“Leave them right there,” Ellie snapped. “You can’t do this to me. Just let me—”

Sorin turned to her, towering over her. “It would be unfortunate if we have to physically restrain you during your return to Romania.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t threaten me.”

“It isn’t a threat,” Lucian hurried to say. “It would be temporary custody, for the duration of the train ride. However, we have no wish to restrain you. If you’ll join us on the train, we’ll see you back to Constanta.” He gave her a small smile. “There isn’t any need for unpleasantness.”

Ellie grasped her carryon case, resisting the urge to swing it at both men and make a run for it. That wouldn’t be the best way to start her three-month stay in Corsova. No, she would have to outwit the brutes. She took a deep breath and gave them a charming smile. “Of course not. I’ll be happy to return to Romania. There are interesting groups there too.”

Lucian nodded. “Excellent. We’ll see you back—”

She frowned. “Excuse me?”

“We’ve been assigned to see you returned to Constanta,” Sorin said, crossing his arms. “I must insist you board the train, Dr. Adare. It will be leaving shortly.”

She swallowed down her protests and walked to the stairs, conscious of them shadowing her steps. She pushed down her seething anger and tried to accept the situation. She would ditch the goons in Constanta and rent a plane. She hadn’t spent two years earning her pilot’s license just because it was a fun hobby, and she hadn’t spent the last year studying the Corsovan language just to turn back now.

Once she returned to Corsova, she would have to keep a low profile. Studying one of the mountain groups would be ideal. She could gather her data about the modern-day culture that chose to live at an early twentieth-century level of technology, put together a paper to publish, and win the position as chair of her department at Columbia before Dr. Ludlow. Being denied legitimate entrance into Corsova was a minor inconvenience, but it wouldn’t stop Ellie.

* * * * *

Ellie huddled deeper into the parka she had purchased in Constanta and squinted out the windshield of the small Cessna she had rented with her expense account from the university. She knew she would have to reimburse accounting for a three-month plane rental, but that was the least of her worries right now.

She was lost in the mountains, in the middle of a blizzard. One moment, tiny snowflakes splattered against the windshield, falling from a moderately overcast sky, with the sun still visible. The next, she was flying into wind gusts, with snow so thick she couldn’t see. Even her equipment was no help. It had stopped working within minutes of crossing the Corsovan border.

“Just calm down, Ellie,” she whispered to herself. She had enough gas to backtrack to Romania. She could attempt to fly in later, once the storm lifted. There wasn’t any reason to panic.

With careful movements, she began turning the plane, intent on heading back the way she came. She tried to keep the plane level, but it dipped down on the left side, seconds before she heard a cracking sound that drowned out the noise of the wind and blinding snow. The plane shuddered at the impact, and it took all her strength to hold it steady.

She let out a small yelp of alarm as the Cessna nose-dived. She no longer had any idea of her altitude and feared crashing into the side of the mountain. She struggled to slow the plane’s descent, but it smashed into a barrier much too soon.

The collision threw Ellie forward against the seatbelt. It snapped loose under the force of her body, and she went flying toward the instrument panel, striking her head on the hard surface. She was vaguely aware of the rocking motion of the plane tapering off as she lay against the panel, attempting to keep her eyes open.

Waves of blackness flickered behind her eyes, and her head was a throbbing mass of agony. Ellie tried to lift her arm to examine her forehead, where she could feel warm blood flowing freely, but couldn’t find the strength to move.

She blinked as the darkness behind her eyes expanded, obscuring her vision. She knew slipping into unconsciousness would be signing her death warrant, and tried focusing on the pain to stay alert. It had the opposite effect, making her want to sleep to escape the anguish.

Ellie tried once more to move, and succeeded in putting her palms against the control panel and heaving herself backward into the bucket seat. She could feel the buckle of the belt digging into her back and, as her eyes closed, made a mental note to demand a refund on a portion of her deposit. She tried to fight off the darkness, but it crashed over her and swept her away.

The sound of wolves howling nearby brought Ellie back to a state of semi-consciousness. Shivers racked her body, and her head ached so badly she could barely open her eyes. She knew it was important to wake up, or she would become dinner for the wolves she heard getting closer. Her head didn’t feel like cooperating, and she lost consciousness again.

It might have been minutes or hours later when she awakened again. Ellie groaned when she felt something soft against her face. She blinked open her eyes and would have screamed if she’d had the strength. A large brown wolf lay across her lap, with its muzzle pressed against her cheek.

Her eyes blurred, and she thought she saw the countenance of a young woman appear on the wolf’s head as it drew away. “Remain calm. Help is on the way.”

She couldn’t help noticing the wolf had a thick accent, and its English wasn’t perfect. Oh, yes, she was about to die or already had. Ellie closed her eyes again, surrendering to sleep. It seemed preferable to hallucinating or experiencing the agony of the wolf tearing into her.

When she next awoke, it was to the din of raised voices. She blinked open her eyes, stunned to find herself in a small room, nestled under a mound of blankets. She was warm and dry. Her head still ached, but she could manage to keep her eyes open.

She turned her head, and a groan escaped as pain flared with the motion. She saw a fireplace, complete with a roaring fire. It provided enough illumination to make out the room’s contents—a small table, a dresser, and a closet with the door partially opened.

Ellie cautiously touched the wound on her forehead, finding a thick bandage covered it. Someone had found her, but the question was, who? “Hello?” She winced at the raspy quality of her voice. The angry voices didn’t diminish, so she assumed they hadn’t heard her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Is someone there?”

The shouting ended abruptly, followed by two or three seconds of silence before footsteps approached the room. When the door opened, a beam of light arced into the room, catching Ellie in the face. She winced and shielded her eyes. She waited for the person to speak, but they stood in the doorway silently.

The light backlit their frame, which she believed was a man’s. Surely, few women got that tall and broad. The long hair she saw flowing down his shoulder might have caused her to doubt her original conclusion, except it didn’t seem feminine. The ebony shade gleamed in the light, but it didn’t have that fussed-over quality of most women’s hair.

Although he hadn’t moved forward or spoken, a chill of fright darted up Ellie’s spine. There was a menacing air about the man, and she found herself recoiling into the soft mattress of the single bed.

She couldn’t find her tongue to break the quiet. Ellie resisted the urge to fling back the covers and run screaming from the room, simply to break the eerie silence. Her heart raced as he continued to stand there, not moving except to cross his arms over his chest.

She didn’t know how much longer the silence would have lasted if someone hadn’t pushed open the door and walked past the man. As she got closer, Ellie recognized her as the woman from her hallucination. She must have been the one to find her. Ellie didn’t know why her mind had added the touch about the wolf. Who could fathom what images an injured brain might produce?

“How are you feeling?” Her English was as stiff and accented as it had been before. “Miss?”

Unexpected tears welled in her eyes as the woman reached out to stroke her arm. She looked down and realized she was wearing her own pink flannel gown. She was touched that they had gone to the trouble of retrieving her luggage when they rescued her. “O-okay,” she finally said.

The woman touched her bandaged forehead. “Nasty.” She clicked her tongue. “You were asleep for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Two days.”

The hairs on Ellie’s neck prickled, and she knew the man had stepped into the room even before she turned her head and saw him walking toward her. She tried to smile, but her lips were as numb as the rest of her when fear seized her. She held her breath.

“You’re better now.” He nodded. “You can leave.” His pronunciation was better than the woman’s, but his accent was just as thick, with the trace of a growl.

Ellie gasped at the same time as the other woman, although she suspected for different reasons. Hers sprang from the surprise of discovering how attractive he was when he stepped into the light. His well-formed features gave him more than a hint of masculine beauty. He could be a statue, carved in stone, but it would have been the perfect marble favored by the Greeks. His high forehead denoted intelligence, and his sharp cheekbones highlighted his round, dark-blue eyes.