Mistwalker (28 page)

She heard gunshots and ran down the carriage in Kristoff’s memory, incredulous at how she’d looked only a few hours ago: fierce and deadly, her green eyes glowing over the sight of the .44.
Her hair a fiery red aura about her face, and every muscle in her body tensed and battle-ready.

Kristoff thought of the command to stop her in an assured, calculated manner, but she’d
laughed
in his face and faded his legs and arms. He screamed, rushing forward, knowing somehow it was the end, but how could that be? No sound escaped his mouth for she’d turned his lungs and throat to mist.

He grabbed for her inside the cell, but she’d disappeared, and he howled, trying to break the bars. No, they were too strong, reinforced with not only magick, but embedded in stone, deep underneath the castle. He’d heard the tales of the dungeons at Ravenkeep and how the ancient ones had forged the cells. There would be no escape.

Her hand was lifted, and a deep awakening surged through her system as though she surfaced from an ocean inside her mind. She blinked and stared down at Radu’s pale, strong hand covering her own. The gems on his fingers winked in the dim light.

He released his grip on her, drawing his hands back down to his side.

She gasped, in and out, trying to slow her breathing. Her first thought turned to an immediate question. “Who are the Drachyn, Grandfather?”

Radu said a word in a foreign, volatile language which she gathered was the same dialect Juliun had spoken at the train station. “Dravego is involved. It is worse than I imagined.”

“Why? Who are the Drachyn?” she whispered. She felt any loud word would break the spell of being in Kristoff’s mind and seeing the things he remembered.

“It is…” Radu grated and stopped. The bones around his face stretched his skin taut. “This will not happen again.”

“Tell me,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Dravego creates the walking dead. A physical body bereft of personality, talent, mind and soul. He takes it all. Slakes his thirst in a different way and condemns his victims to an eternal life of nothingness. It is a mercy to kill them after that,” Radu said.

She was right to feel afraid. Fear kept you alive. The way Radu had said, ‘an eternity of nothingness’ made her cringe.

Vampires had murdered her mother when Simone was a child. They would not do the same to Tammy.

Simone’s jaw clenched, and her teeth ached. She opened them to try and relax, but her neck and shoulders tightened further. Uneasiness churned in her gut, building into nausea. She’d seen a glimpse of Dravego’s plan through Kristoff’s mind, and she didn’t like it one little bit. 

They could either stop the leader of the Drachyn from turning
Tammy into the real living dead or play directly into his machinations.

“While I still have breath left in my body
they will not turn her into that
,” Simone vowed.

A large hand settled on her shoulder, and she turned to see Juliun staring down at her, his brows furrowed over deep, glowing eyes. “What did you see?”

She swiped a smear of moisture from the corner of her eye. “Enough. When do we start?”

He snuck a quick glance to the collapsed and unconscious Kristoff. Radu worked on the oth
er vampire. “I will wait until Grandfather reads them both.” Juliun’s gaze intensified. “He did mention a local airstrip. What did you see in Kristoff’s mind? The vampires who killed your mother?”

Simone forgot to breathe at the sharp pain feasting inside her chest. “No, but Grandfather says the Drachyn are involved.”

Cold fury swept across Juliun’s face. “Dravego. Carlo and his bride, Lorena will be involved.”

“Lorena is his
bride
? Isn’t that a strange terminology? Why not say his wife? Is it different with vampires?”

Juliun stared at her. “You have not read that far into the book?”

“No time.” She thought of the huge, golden tome at her apartment and grimaced. “You gave it to me last night, remember? I’m still getting used to only having night time to do things.” Her gaze snagged on his still, serious face. “Why? What does it mean?”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hell.
Juliun ran a hand through his hair, not that it did him much good. The strands were tied back and taut. He took in her innocent gaze, her lush mouth and wanted to kiss every inch of her until her delicious curves were imprinted his soul. The ends of her hair curled and bounced past her shoulders, parallel with her tiny waist. The locks were rioting hues of a streaking, red sunset.

“Well?”

He needed to answer. “Vampires can have a connection with other vampires.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “Brilliant. What kind of connection?
Telepathic, like ours?”

His heart thudded.
“Not
exactly
.” He realised he was stalling, and blinked, tasting terror on his tongue at the idea of scaring her away with the truth of their bond. His entire body ached at the thought. He needed more time for her to realise they belonged together. “Lorena was his bride. His fated mate throughout all eternity. That is why you do not hear the word ‘wife’.”

“Oh.” Simone nodded. “I’ll have to check out that in the book.”

He sighed. No doubt, the threat to her friend distracted her thoughts away from what he
hadn’t
said. He didn’t miss the tear stains on her face or her obvious distress at Tammy’s kidnapping. He yearned to wrap his arms around her waist and ease her troubles. Most of all, he wanted her nowhere near Dravego. Juliun had to protect her from the Drachyn clan no matter what. He never wanted to put her in a dangerous situation again and had sworn to do anything and everything to make her happy and safe, even if it meant she decided to leave Ravenkeep forever.

He could have easily stopped her that night with Lars, but he’d been so utterly enraptured with the sight, smell and feel of his bride after centuries of searching that he’d made a stupid mistake.

He’d overlooked her fire and spirit.

He’d given her the mist, and because of that she was being hunted. The guilt of changing her into an immortal seared a never-ending brand upon his heart.

Sometimes the burn was light, other times suffocating.

His thoughts stumbled at the sight of tears near her sparkling green eyes. His blood changed them from that first night, and they looked like pictures of the forest when sunlight hit the leaves.
Glowing green with streaks of gold. The creamy skin on her cheeks was so smooth and soft, of a finer texture than any silk that could be purchased from the Orient.

He rubbed his fingertips against his palms, resisting the urge to feel the exact way her body changed with his blood. Her power to resist glamour came courtesy of the plate protecting her brain. He wanted to kiss the scar on her neck and let every ounce of her being seep into him.

Her warmth, her inner strength, her courage. She’d turned a weakness into a strength. He loved that scar. That scar was her.

“Grandfather’s right,” she said. “We should start at the local airstrip. Sorry, I’m a bit...I mean when I saw them take Tammy, I wanted to... I’m terrified we’re not going to
rescue her in time. Grandfather said this Dravego
is a—”

“Psychic vampire,” Juliun finished for her.
“The most dangerous who has ever lived.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “A little white lie might have made me feel better.”

He frowned and stepped closer. Dark shadows moved across her face in the dim light. She trembled, but didn’t pull away. The heat of her burned his fingers through her leather jacket. He’d never felt anything so warm, so right. He slowly caressed the sensitive, tender skin of her neck and reached beneath her heavy cloud of hair.

She moaned and rubbed her face against his hand. The stillness of her gaze locked on his, and he stared with fascination at her parting pink lips. His fingertips lingered at the top of her spine beneath her
collar, and then slid to her scar and over the dip near her clavicle. He flipped her long hair over her shoulder, letting the fine, red strands fall through his fingers.

“We will use the mist. It will be a chance to show you how much power you really possess,” he murmured.

She leaned slightly into his chest. Light perfume and intoxicating blood exuded from every inch of her delectable body.

But then she suddenly stepped away. “I need to um...check on something.” She patted a searching hand over the guns under her jacket and across the butt of the stake she’d shoved in the waistband of her jeans.

His gaze flicked across the space she’d inserted between them, and he frowned.

“I didn’t get a look at the airport in Kristoff’s mind. I wish I would have.” She shook her head. “Why would they catch the train if they had a car?”

“How many were there in the vehicle?”

“Three.
Tammy, Kristoff and another.”

“And on the train?

“Six, including Tammy and Kristoff.” Simone’s eyes widened. “They must be picking up more assassins on the way.”

Juliun rubbed his chin. “Yes. But that still does not explain—”

“Dravego said the assassins would be deployed in Kristoff’s memories. I must have surprised them on the train since they thought Tammy had the mist.”

Radu floated toward them, his cloak covering his tall, lean body. “That one,” he said, pointing to the vampire Juliun nearly choked to death, “tossed your friend into a silver BMW and then laid a false trail in the other direction. In fact, they caught the train to get the assassins. The car is the same BMW you saw in Kristoff’s mind, Simone. Dravego is assembling a guard of assassins to overcome the vampire factions. He wants the mist. He knows you have it.”

Juliun raked another hand through his dark hair. “How he managed to set that up on the sly will be interesting enough. We will start with the closest airstrip and work our way from there. It might be worthwhile to take a car.”

“The mist is faster. Won’t using a car slow us down?” Simone asked.

He shot her a wolfish grin. “Trust me. Like Grandfather said, your training starts here.”

Chapter Thirty

Simone materialised inside a garage straight from a car buff’s wet dream. She took in the polished floor, sports cars, motorbikes and boats. The place must’ve been bigger than an aeroplane hangar, for crying out loud.

She wouldn’t be surprised to find a Boeing behind the boats. Fluorescents shone down on the sleek machines, casting a faint golden light around her. She frowned and looked up at Juliun. “I thought you used the mist to travel?”

He strode to a slick sports car and opened the passenger-side door. “Others at Ravenkeep do not have the convenience of appearing wherever they wish. They use the garage.”

That might even convince her to stay. “Is that a Bugatti?”

“Veyron.
Fastest street-legal car. Tempted?”

Man, it would fly. She climbed inside the lush interior, and the soft leather bucket seat cupped her body with a sigh. She closed her eyes in absolute bliss at the new car smell, then surveyed the sophisticated dash and wondered if he’d let her drive.

He closed her door and misted to the driver’s side where he stretched out his long length on the seat. He sat there in silence, and finally, turned to her, studying her face.

She fidgeted. “What?”

“I never imagined you would join forces with me after I turned you.” His eyes were the colour of flat stone. “I will help you find Tammy, but I am hoping you will let Grandfather train you in the mist. You will never find a better teacher.”

Her heart gave a little tug at the memory of Radu’s generosity. He’d surprised her tonight with his offer of seeing into Kristoff’s
mind. “I’ll think about it.”

A flash of humour crossed Juliun’s face. “Good. I am going to show you something new. Do not be alarmed.”

“It would be so much easier if you didn’t have that buckle-up-for-safety look on your face.”

He laughed and appeared so carefree. “I warned you.”

Her legs dissipated into mist, and she shouted, “What does that mean? Juliun, what are you—” But her words dissolved, and then physical reality returned with a sickening rush. She looked up through the Bugatti’s windscreen, seeing a stretch of asphalt that looked suspiciously like an airstrip.

He’d transported them both in the Bugatti.

“How in bloody hell did you do that?” Her voice shook as did the rest of her body. She clutched at the door handle. “You can’t just make a car
disappear
!”

He shrugged. “You may have noticed you are fully clothed when you reappear using the mist. You can trace any object. You do this unconsciously with your clothes.”

She gaped at him. “Any object?”

“Yes,” he said with absolute certainty and fired up the Bugatti.

A heavy rumble vibrated beneath her seat. At the car’s incredible pace their surroundings blurred.