"You had them torture and mutilate your own son. And what of the others? Why the others?"
Rand smiled, a wicked, humorless parody of amusement. "For the fun, of course, for the practice. Gregori thinks he is the only one who can use the dark secrets, but he is not as smart as he thinks."
"And do you plan to kill him also?"
"I do not have to take that chance. He will turn soon." There was a wealth of satisfaction in Rand's voice. "He will not choose death, as you all think he will. He has battled too long, and he is far too powerful. He will rip this world apart. And he will squash like bugs those who seek to destroy him. Aidan and Julian together might have a chance, but they, too, are close to turning. Together we will rule, as our race should have from the beginning. It is your brother who has kept our people from their rightful place. Humans are cattle to be used to sate our hunger, to serve our needs, yet we hide from them like cowards. The others hate me now, but soon all the ancients will join me."
"And what of Shea in this master plan?"
"She will become one of us after your death. Her blood is Maggie's blood, and she belongs to me. You had no right to her."
"And you believe that you can defeat me in battle?" Jacques' head was up, the demon in him struggling for freedom, wanting the joy and thrill of the fight. Hatred rose for this man who had destroyed his innocence, his family, his memories, his beliefs. Savage hatred for this man who had created a dark, dangerous being in the place of a gentle Carpathian rose and began to spread like a dark stain across his soul.
"You will defeat yourself, dark one. Your woman is tied to me. When you strike me, she will feel the pain. Every slash, every cut, it will be the woman who bleeds, not just me. She will also feel your joy in the act. She will know you for what you are, and she will know your need to inflict pain and death. She will finally see you as the monster you really are. She will see you kill her father, see your joy in the act, and she will feel each blow."
Pain exploded in the region of Jacques' temples as he desperately tried to remember if what the vampire was saying could be so. Would Shea feel pain inflicted upon Rand? Was her father's blood in her veins sufficient to cause such a thing? He needed the answer immediately. Rand had him backed into a corner with this revelation.
Before Jacques could send off an inquiry and resolve the dilemma, the vampire launched himself, moving with supernatural speed, a blur of claws going for the jugular. Jacques leapt out of the way, felt the burn across his throat as the tips of Rand's nails caught him and opened a shallow cut. Jacques retaliated without conscious thought, raking his own talons down the vampire's face.
Rand screamed with pain, a cry of fear and hatred. Jacques kept at him, whirling in and out of visibility, inflicting lacerations across the vampire's chest to drain him of his strength. He kept his mind firmly from Shea's. He could not think she was in danger, that this savage fight could somehow affect her. The joy in him increased until his mind and body were alive with power. The vampire fell back under his onslaught. With one last desperate attempt to turn the battle in his favor, Rand disappeared, fled to the tree line, calling on the sky to do his bidding.
A bolt of lightning slammed to earth, scorching the area close to Jacques' body, singeing the tips of his hair. A second bolt hit the precise spot where the Carpathian had been standing, but Jacques was already overhead, high in the trees above Rand. Wings beat the air strongly as he launched himself.
Rand screamed as the razor-sharp talons ripped into his chest, sought his pulsating heart. "Shea! Hear me! Join with me! Save me now! I am your father! You must join with me to save me from this monster tearing insanely at my flesh!"
Jacques reached for the organ, tore it free, and flung it far from the vampire. "You are dead, vampire, and you go, I hope, to some semblance of peace. The crimes you have committed against me and my family are avenged. You go to meet your God and his mercy. I feel none toward you. You would have taken her with you had you been able to do so. Carpathian justice has been dispensed."
Rand staggered forward, his gray face slack, tainted blood flowing freely. His mouth working convulsively, he fell to his knees. Jacques leapt back from the thrashing body, careful that the grasping claws did not touch him, that not one speck of the dark blood splattered on him. His hand was burning as he wiped it clean in the shriveling grass.
The air around them stilled, the wind completely silent. The earth seemed to groan. An eerie steam rose from the wriggling body, mixed with a noxious odor. Jacques instinctively moved farther away from the spectacle. Vampires died hard; all fought to overcome death with every trick they had. The tainted blood trickled across the ground toward Jacques' boots, guided by the dying vampire's last evil thoughts. Jacques watched without emotion as the vampire crawled toward him, inched his way closer and closer, his face twisted with depravity, with hatred.
Jacques shook his head. "You hated yourself, Rand. You hated yourself all these years. All of you had to do was find the courage to follow her. Maggie would have saved your soul."
Low, pitiful growls escaped from the hideous mouth, blood spewed forth, and Rand collapsed in front of Jacques, still reaching for him, still determined in his last moment to kill.
Jacques inhaled sharply, caught his first whiff of fresh, clean air, and knew the vampire had fully expired. With a little sigh he carried the bodies of the hunters to an open area and carefully collected what dry branches he could find. There could be no evidence left of this night. The vampire, too, had to be completely consumed by the fire so that there was no chance the tainted blood could find a way to revive him. The power of the vampire's blood was incredible.
Weakness was becoming an increasing concern for Jacques. The fight had used up his last energies, and he still had to create and maintain a huge conflagration in the midst of a rain-soaked forest.
The wolf howled again, this time much closer, obviously loping toward the scene of death and destruction, perhaps drawn by the smell of blood. Jacques scored the earth with a lightning bolt, directing it along the river of blood. No creature needed the madness of that fluid in its belly.
An unusually large, rare, golden wolf trotted out of the timberline, circled the area warily, and sat down on its haunches only feet from Jacques. It watched him steadily with its strange golden eyes, completely unafraid. It seemed not to be affected by the fire, the lightning, or the Carpathian male. Jacques watched the animal equally intently, certain he was facing more than a wolf. The creature did not make an attempt to use the common mental path to communicate. It simply watched him, taking in the bizarre scene, the golden eyes never wavering.
A humorless smile curved Jacques' hard mouth. "If you are looking for action tonight, I am too tired to oblige you, and far too hungry."
The wolf's shape contorted, stretched, shimmered in the smoke of the fire, and soon a large, heavily muscled man was facing Jacques. His long, shaggy mane of hair was blond, his eyes golden, his body perfectly balanced. "You are Jacques, brother to Mikhail. I heard you were dead."
"That is the story going around," Jacques assented warily.
"You have no memory of me? I am Julian, brother to Aidan. I have been away these last long years. The far-off mountains, the places without people, are my home."
"The last I heard, you were fighting wars in distant lands."
"When the mood is upon me, I fight where it is needed," Julian agreed. "I see you do also. The vampire lies dead, and you are pale beyond imagination."
Jacques' smile was grim. "Do not allow my color to fool you."
"I am no vampire yet, and if ever I fear turning, I will go to Aidan, and he will destroy me if I cannot do so myself. If you wish to take blood, then I offer it freely. The healer knows me; you can ask him if I am a reliable resource." There was the slightest of smiles, a self-mocking humor.
"What are you doing in these parts?" Jacques asked suspiciously.
"I was traveling through, on my way to the United States, when I heard the butchers were back, and I thought I would make myself useful to our people for a change."
Jacques found himself admiring Julian's answers. This was a man not in the least worried about anyone's opinion or impression of him. He was self-contained, at ease with himself. It didn't bother him at all that Jacques was suspicious, that he was firing questions at him.
Healer, hear me. I have need of blood, and this one before me, Julian, the golden twin, has said you will vouch for him.
No one can vouch for one such as Julian. He is a loner, a law unto himself, but his blood is untainted. If Julian turns, it will be Aidan or I who hunts him, no others. Avail yourself of what he offers.
"Did he give me a good recommendation?" Julian's smile was frankly sardonic.
"The healer never gives good recommendation. You are not his favorite, but he agrees there would be no harm."
Julian laughed softly, put his wrist to his mouth and bit, then casually reached out to offer his life-giving fluid to Jacques. "I am too much like him, a loner, one who studies too much. I dabble in things better left alone. I fear Gregori has given up on me." He didn't sound worried about it.
Jacques nearly staggered as he moved to take the proffered wrist. His mouth clamped tightly over the ragged wound. The blood flowed into Jacques' withered, shrunken cells. The surge of strength and power was incredible. He had not realized how depleted his system was until the nourishment flowed into his body. It was an effort not to be greedy, to feast at the rich supply.
"Do not worry, I have no duties to perform this night. Take what you need, and I will hunt in town before moving on." Julian made the offer casually.
Jacques forced himself away from the flowing supply. He closed the wound carefully and looked up at the handsome, weathered face. There was intelligence there, coolness, self-possession, and something else. Jacques could read the dangerous stillness in him. Julian was a man always ready for the unexpected.
"Thank you, Julian. If you ever have need, I expect to return the favor," Jacques said sincerely.
"I will finish up here," Julian offered. "It is a shame these three men had to die this night. When they do not return and no search party can find their remains, it will only feed the legends of vampires stalking this country and these parts."
"I should have expected Rand to use them against me; he knew I would keep them to feed." Jacques regretted their deaths bitterly.
"You did not kill these men, the vampire did. And you rid the world of one of our monsters. Both humans and Carpathians are indebted to you. Think only of that, Jacques. I wish you good journey and long life."
"Good journey and long life to you, Julian," Jacques answered formally.
Chapter Eighteen
Jacques entered the maze of tunnels, his body moving with supernatural speed. He could hear every sound, the water dripping, then roaring, the high squeak of the bats, even the slight shifting of the earth itself. But he could not detect what he wished to hear most. There was no sound coming from the pools. No ripple of water, no humming, no soft breath from sleeping. No heart beating.
Shea was lying motionless on a rock when Jacques entered the steamy underground chamber. He stood very still in the entrance, afraid to move or speak. She had not responded to his telepathic call to her. If she were lost to him, the monster that was Rand would win after all. No one would ever be safe again until Jacques was destroyed. He shook his head. No, if she were dead, he would not leave her to face the unknown without him. Rand would not win. Jacques would follow her, find her. They would spend their life in the next world together.
He cleared his throat carefully, noisily, wanting her to turn to face him. She didn't move, her body utterly still. Jacques inhaled sharply and caught the faint scent of blood. He cleared the distance between them in a single leap, his speed so great, he was almost unable to stop before plunging headlong into the pool. As it was, he teetered precariously on the rim of the boulder before regaining his balance.
There was blood smeared on the rock beside Shea's naked body, a faint crimson ribbon over her breasts. Jacques cried out, dropped to his knees beside her, gathered her up to press her against his chest. Her heart was not beating. He could not feel a pulse or find a thread of life. "No!" He shouted it hoarsely, his voice echoing through the chamber eerily. The voice was lonely and lost, his heart ripped out, like Rand's.
Jacques?
The voice was faint and far off but unmistakably Shea's.
Jacques held his breath for a moment, afraid he had truly lost his mind. "Shea?" He breathed her name, a whisper of silk like the feel of her hair on his body. That light. "Where are you, little love? Come back to me."
Jacques pressed his forehead to hers, his hand over her heart. He felt the first strong beat in his palm, the first rush of blood through her veins and arteries. He captured her mouth with his to take the first breath from her lungs. His own heart could beat, his own lungs could work. He felt tears on his face and held her close.
"What happened to you out there?" she asked softly, clinging to him.
"The vampire and I fought," he said into her mass of red hair. He caught a strand on the tip of his tongue, ran it through his mouth, needing the feel of her close to him.
"I know. It was Rand. I felt you hit him. I could feel his hatred. It was terrible, like something alien in my body. When you struck, I could feel his pain. Right away I began to bleed. I knew he would use it against you somehow, so I tried to do what you said all Carpathians could do." She looked ruefully around her at the smears of blood. "It took a while to figure things out, but eventually I was able to put myself to sleep."