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Dark Slayer(8)

By:Christine Feehan


Gasping, she pulled back abruptly, her body actually turning, ready to flee. He had the strong bones of a Carpathian male, a straight aristocratic nose, and deep lines of suffering cut into his once-handsome face. But what really caught her attention and terrified her was the birthmark showing through his torn, thin shirt. She could see the dragon on his hip. It was no tattoo; he'd been born with that mark.

Dragonseeker. Her breath rushed from her lungs in a long gasp. Around her the snow continued to fall and the world became white, all sound muted. She could hear her heartbeat, too fast, adrenaline pumping through her body, her blood roaring in her ears.

Raja nudged her leg, indicating they should leave the body where it lay. She took a breath, even though her lungs could barely drag in air. Her body actually shivered. She turned away, signaling to the wolves to leave him, but her feet refused to work. She couldn't take a single step. The man with that ravaged face, too-thin body and barely a pulse, held her to him.

She raised her face to the heavens, letting the snow cover it like a white mask. "Why now?" she asked softly. A plea. A prayer. "Why are you asking this of me now? Don't you think you've taken enough from me?" She stood waiting for an answer. Lightning to strike, maybe. Something. Anything. Her whispered entreaty was met with implacable silence.

Raja gave a series of whines. Come away, little sister. Leave him. He obviously disturbs you. Come away before the sun is high.

For the first time in hundreds of years, she'd forgotten the sun. She'd forgotten safety. Everything she knew, everything she'd learned-it was all gone because of this man. She wanted to go away. She needed to go away, but everything in her was drawn to this one man. Palafertiilam-lifemate-her lifemate-the curse of all Carpathian women.





CHAPTER 2



I vory crouched down beside the fallen man, her fingers gliding over his face, around to his neck to feel his pulse. It was unnecessary. Her heart had slowed to match the impossibly slow beat of his. She brushed the snow from his face and began a minute examination of his wounds. His body was crisscrossed in scars-nearly as bad as her own, should she allow anyone to see her as she was. His skin was ice-cold. Every Carpathian learned from childhood how to control the temperature in their bodies, yet he was freezing.

Little sister! Raja's whine ended in a growl of warning. The sun is climbing.

If she didn't take him, he would die here in the open. Her heart stuttered as she looked back at his tracks. That had been his intention. From the old and fresh scars on his ankles and wrists, she could tell he had been chained, the links coated with vampire blood, burning into his flesh each time he moved. She knew one man who used that method of imprisonment: Xavier, the high mage. The Dragonseeker had escaped captivity and instead of heading toward one of the villages to seek aid, he had gone into the forest interior, making his way to the most remote side of the mountain where the sun could claim him.

The pack milled around, uneasy now, casting glances up at the sky. The snow began to come down harder, coating the silvery pelts. Cursing, Ivory reached for him, pulling him into a sitting position so she could lift him.

His eyes snapped open-dark swirling pits of suffering, of determination, of resolve. This was a man honed in the fires of hell, a man who'd suffered unbearable agony and set his mind in stone. There would be no manipulating him; she could see and feel that as his energy surrounded her.

"Leave me." His voice gave a hoarse command.

She felt the mental push behind the brusque order and hastily shut out the compulsion. The telepathic coercion affected her wolves; she could see them back away, and she waved her hand to hold them. Only her long and very tight bond with the pack held them to her under the strength of that compulsion-and that told her a lot about this man. In spite of being so weak, half-starved and emaciated, he was incredibly strong-and dangerous.

She wasn't about to open her mouth. She shook her head mutely and went to lift him. The Dragonseeker pulled back and laid his hand on her arm with surprising gentleness. She felt the jolt of electricity and her body tingled, sudden awareness forcing the air from her lungs in a hissing rush.

"You do not understand," he said. "You are in terrible danger just being close to me. I have powerful enemies and they can reach you through me."

Again she felt the warning compulsion in his voice. He radiated purity-truth. He wanted her to leave him knowing it was a death sentence-not just a death sentence, but that he would die in absolute agony, one slow inch at a time. She cursed again. She had no choice but to speak and he would know the truth. Her species had one mate. One. They could look the world over, through centuries of living and unless they connected to that one person, the one who shared the other half of their soul, they were not true lifemates.