Dark Promises(18)

Aleksei waved his hand to remove the soil surrounding him. The musical notes went from silver to gold. Gold. Not gray. Not a dull, dingy white. Gold. Silver and gold. He could see the notes dancing through the sheet of darkness, bursting like stars, ripping the sheet to shreds. Each note tore more of the dark from his mind, letting in the light until the backs of his eyes burned.

He blinked rapidly and looked around slowly, his eyes hooded, lashes fanning down to protect his vision. The carefully cultivated plants were in bloom and he could see the riot of colors. So bright. So vibrant. His eyes burned and the intensity of the colors caused a lurch in his belly. Disorienting. Still. Colors.

He took a deep breath and drew in the air she breathed. His lifemate. She was close. Right outside the gates. He heard her, that soft murmur. Plea. She was arguing with someone. He drew her into his lungs. Deep. Deeper. Holding her right there with the miracle of silver and gold notes burning through his shredded soul. Cauterizing. Attempting to repair the damage done by centuries of killing. Of being alone, hoping and then losing hope. The darkness didn’t win and yet it had—until now.

He forced his eyes to shutter, to reduce the vivid colors enough that he could rise without the lurching, disorienting feeling that was so disturbing. Her voice rose outside the gates, carried to him on the wind. Soft. Pleading. Tears in her voice. A man’s murmur followed. Rage hit him. Deadly. Dangerous.

Help! What’s happening? What’s wrong? Help me!

Emotion was something he didn’t even remember, and the intensity was overwhelming. He could barely contain elation at finding his lifemate, and fury that another man hurt her enough to make her cry. The storm inside him was violent, relentless and demanding. He did his best to tamp it down. He had to be in control. He was far too dangerous not to be.

Aleksei took to the sky, something he hadn’t done in a very long while, whirling like the mist, carried on the sudden forceful wind. His lifemate’s screams tore at him, sent streaks of pure rage rushing through his bloodstream. He had never heard the fear and anguish in anyone’s voice as he did in hers, and it ripped him apart, ripped away the last veneer of civilization, leaving him solely what he’d always been—a predator at the very top of the food chain. There would be no escaping him. Not for her. Not for the man who caused her tears.

From the air he saw the woman he knew belonged to him and the man she faced with tears running down her face. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Her back was against the gate, both arms stretched above her head, wrists bound by the guardians. Another binding circled her slim waist. She wore a man’s garb, something he didn’t care for at all, especially when another man was looking at her as if she was his entire world. It was too form-fitting, revealing her luscious curves. The plants Fane used as safeguards to protect those in the monastery had done their job, recognizing this woman belonged and holding her. Should any approach her, the vines would protect her.

He immediately noted Andre was there with his lifemate—a woman he recognized from a few days earlier when she had tried to heal Andre after he’d battled a master vampire. Fane, keeper of the monastery, had given them aid, but Aleksei and two others had stayed close to protect them.

The stranger stepped toward Aleksei’s lifemate and something animalistic in him roared a protest. He dropped from the sky to insert his body solidly between the stranger and his lifemate.

“You dare to touch my woman? My lifemate? You dare such a thing?” He switched to English, realizing they had been using that language. “I am Aleksei, and the woman is mine.”

Aleksei was utterly confident in his skills but he was surprised and a little taken aback to recognize the man—his enemy—was a Daratrazanoff. There was no mistaking one from that lineage or the power emanating from one of them. He had never known a Daratrazanoff to be a man without honor, but to try to take another man’s lifemate was a crime punishable by death—even for those second-in-command to the prince.

He exploded into action, and he was fast. These last years in the monastery could never take away the speed and experience of his centuries of battle. To keep fit and in practice, each evening the ancients gathered to fight, using weapons and hand-to-hand combat. They stayed sharp that way, and it helped to occupy their minds.

He knew he was risking his honor to go into battle; that risk was the very reason he had entered the monastery in the first place. He was far too powerful. Had lived too long. He would be a vampire few could kill. This was his lifemate, and he would defend her with his last breath even if he risked the ultimate dishonor.