Dark Secret

Rafael sent his voice to the south, careful not to give away his presence in the grove. There is no honor in defeating the vampire. It is merely a job, Kirja. Well you know the truth of that. Whether it takes one hunter or ten makes no difference. We mete out justice according to the law.

Above the clearing, where the clouds spun dark threads, the sharp eyes of the bird picked up a glinting flame at the edge of the turbulent mass. Kirja was up to his old tricks and the battlefield was already prepared.

I tire of waiting for you, Rafael.

Rafael duplicated the grove of trees, a difficult and extreme feat that only the oldest and most powerful Carpathians could execute. Trees sprang up in the clearing, long spearlike roots stabbing deep into the ground, winding to form a barricade beneath the earth, while the branches spread out, lifting arms to the sky, forming a nearly impenetrable barrier.

Shrieks of pain and anger rose from the ground as Kirja's serpents burst through the surface, an ugly mass of scales and teeth, writhing and coiling as they tried to escape the relentless roots. They thumped against the ground, striking repeatedly at empty air, sinking their razor-sharp teeth into each other in a mindless need to kill anything close.

Insects swarmed up from the ground, millions of them, large scorpions and a river of ants, a poisonous army determined to kill everything in its path. Rafael countered the move with nature, setting the sap running from the trees and spreading into a lake of liquid amber, trapping the lethal little bugs and containing them within the battle zone before they could spread out and cause harm.

That was not nice, Rafael. How unkind to all those living creatures.

Have your memories of me faded so much that you make them up? I was never nice, Kirja, nor have I ever learned how to be.

Join us. The voice whispered the temptation. Fulfill your destiny. You were always greater than Prince Vlad, and now his sniveling son, Mikhail, has taken his place. He has no one who can adequately protect him. Gregori is too young and not experienced with ancients. He hones his skills on the young, never realizing we exist. He is complacent in his battle skills, thinking he knows all, yet he has only managed to defeat lesser vampires. Those he thought were true masters are our puppets to be used for fodder to gain our goal. You and I both know Gregori is nowhere near our skill and could never defeat us. Join us, Rafael. Accept your true destiny.

The vampire attacked from the sky, raining fire on the clone trees, slamming bolt after bolt of lightning into the large tree trunks so that they burst into flames and blackened under the heavy assault. The trunks split apart, some falling under the blasts from the sky. Rafael nodded the bird's head toward the spinning clouds, releasing the rain to put out the fire.

The droplets fell, dark and ugly with acid, hissing as they burned through the trees and foliage on the ground, withering every plant in their path and burrowing deep into the earth, infecting the very soil with poison.

Very nice. Rafael kept his admiring tone coming from the south, wanting Kirja to believe he was orchestrating the battle from a distance.

I thought you would like that. Kirja gave the impression of taking of bow.

Rafael stared up at the sky from the refuge of the bird's body within the grove of real trees. The rain ceased abruptly as a wind came from the south, ferocious as it hurtled with hurricane force through the acid clouds, scattering them across the sky, bringing with it a churning storm. Lightning forked in the clouds and crystal-clear rain fell once again, pouring down onto the fires and leaving a crisp, fresh scent behind.

Lucian and Gabriel have risen. They will battle for their prince. Falcon is alive, as is Traian. They will fight.

They have gone soft. They have women to protect. Hunters lose their edge when they worry over the loss of a lifemate. We hunt and worry about no one so we have the advantage. Join us, Rafael. Our ranks grow strong while the hunters allow their numbers to dwindle and their skills to weaken. Most are artisans, forced into service by the prince, not true hunters. I have destroyed thousands of them. Call to your brother and join us. We will not be defeated.

The rain turned from water to ice, a storm of spearing icicles dropping from the sky, piercing the trees from every direction, driving through bark to the very heart of the trees with the intention of killing them. Slivers drove through the bushes and foliage, seeking targets, hoping to find Rafael should he be hidden there.

Inside the body of the bird, a safe distance away from the icestorm, Rafael smiled. Kirja was in rare form, on the run, but fighting back, turning each weapon to his advantage as he tried to score against Rafael.

Seems like old times.

I live to hear the shriek of the trees when the ice pierces their hearts.

You always enjoyed feeling the power of holding life or death over living things, Kirja.

As did you, Rafael. Do not fool yourself. Your nature demands domination over others. You know you are a powerful being and forcing yourself to submit to lesser beings chafes at you every moment of your existence. Join us. They cannot hold against our growing ranks.

Rafael knew there was an underground labyrinth here. He had spent time in the caverns and beneath the surface in the rich soil. He had listened to the whispered songs of the earth so he knew there was an abundance of water flowing from various sources. He called them together, a whisper of command, certain Kirja directed the battle from beneath the surface where most of his traps might protect him.

First the trickle began. As tuned as he was to the earth, he could feel the slightest vibration as the underground river began to form, water pouring in from all directions until it was a powerful, moving force. He directed the current so water pounded through the ground to the area he was certain Kirja occupied. In the churning waves he sent jagged roots pistoning, deadly spears hidden in the depths of the frothy waves. The water would saturate the soil, diluting the poisons Kirja had injected, allowing plant life to grow once again after the vampire was gone.

The underground river swelled to a monstrous rapid, roaring through the ground, sweeping aside everything in its path. A scream of rage and pain shook the ground and several trees exploded, raining sharpened stakes throughout the cloned grove of trees. Blood bubbled up through the dirt, pooling into a smoking, noxious puddle, a sure sign the vampire was injured.

From his vantage point in the tree just to the east of the cloned trees, Rafael waited for Kirja to surface. There was no way he could withstand the power of the water rushing underground or the sharp roots shooting through the river with deadly intent. He would have to emerge.

Water burst through the earth, geysers spewing high into the air, boiling hot as if fed by a simmering volcano. Great globs of mud spat from the holes, still bubbling with heat as they flew through the air in all directions. In the midst of the steam, a darker column rose, shooting toward the clouds. The edges of the shadowed vapor trail gleamed a deep red.

At once Rafael attacked, slamming a barrier across the sky so that the vapor hit it hard and clung to the transparent surface much like droplets of condensation. He sent heat pulsing through the barrier, drying the condensation, forcing the vampire into another form.

Immediately the sky blackened, with a huge swarm of killer bees that began attacking every living creature, whether insect or mammal, massing over the bodies in clumps and flying at the trees and shrubbery in a frenzy of hate and rage.

Rafael sent a voracious backlash, sucking all the oxygen from the air over the grove of cloned trees. The bees fell to the ground, inches deep, covering the soil, a carpet of bodies, dead and dying. From the ground rose a transparent dark shadow. It streaked to the nearest tree, sliding inside the blackened trunk. At once the remaining leaves withered and shriveled into brownish black curls. The branches gnarled and knotted, great tumors bursting through bark, the wood splitting in places as the evil swelled.

Rafael slammed a lightning bolt from sky to tree, going for a direct hit and quick incineration, but even as the tree split in two, the shadow within leapt to a neighboring tree.

Kirja. This is so unlike you. I am on your heels. Do you feel my breath on your neck? Does it itch between your shoulder blades? As he spoke, Rafael slammed another bolt, a jagged whip that blew the tree into pieces. Once again the shadow slipped into the next tree. Why do you run? I thought you wanted to play, old friend.

Hot lava poured through the vents the geysers had opened, spewing up from beneath the earth, ejecting ash