Lover Mine(153)

Too bad for them it was going to be a wasted effort.

"On three," Vishous whispered.

Xhex was the one who counted it down. "One . . . two . . . three--"





FIFTY-FOUR





As soon as night fell o'er the landscape and granted its dark grace upon the good earth, Darius dematerialized from his modest abode and took form on the shore by the ocean with Tohrment. The "cottage" the symphath had described was in fact a stone manse of some size and distinction. There were candles lit inside, but as Darius and his protege tarried amid an outcropping of foliage, there were no overt signs of life: No figures walked past the windows. No dogs barked a warning. No scents from the kitchen wing wafted on the cool, calm breeze.

There was, however, a horse turned out in the field and a carriage by the barn.

As well as a crushing sense of foreboding.

"A symphath is therein," Darius murmured as his eyes probed not just the visible, but the shadowed.

There was no way to know whether there was more than one sin-eater within the walls, as it took only a single of them to create the barricade of fear. And no way to ken whether it was the symphath they sought.

At least, not as long as they stayed on the periphery.

Darius closed his eyes and let his senses penetrate what they were able of the scene afore him, his instincts beyond that of sight and hearing focusing to ascertain danger.

Verily, there were times when he trusted what he knew to be true more than what he beheld.

Yes, he could feel something inside. There was frantic movement within the stone walls.

The symphath knew they were here.

Darius nodded at Tohrment and the two of them took a chance and tried to dematerialize into the living room.

Metal embedded in the masonry itself prevented them penetrating the stout walls and they were forced to re- form at the house's cold flank. Undeterred, Darius lifted his leather-covered elbow and smashed the leaded glass of a window; then he gripped the dividers and pulled out the frame. Tossing it aside, he gusted in with Tohrment, becoming corporeal in the living room--

Just in time to catch a flash of red ducking through an internal door down toward the back of the house. In silent accord, he and Tohrment took off in pursuit, reaching the exit that had been taken as the pins of the lock were turning.

Copper mechanism. Which meant there was no moving it mentally.

"Stand aside," Tohrment said as he leveled the muzzle of his gun.

Darius briefly stepped clear as a shot rang out, and then he shoulder- rushed the door, forcing it wide.

The stairs down below were dark except for a jostling, ever-fading light.

They descended the stone steps with pounding boots and sprinted over the packed-dirt floor, running after the lantern . . . and the scent of vampire blood that was in the air.

Urgency thundered in Darius's veins, wrath warring with desperation. He wanted the female back . . . Dearest Virgin Scribe, how she must have suffered--

There was a slamming sound and then the underground tunnel went pitch-black.

Without losing his stride, Darius powered onward, putting his hand out against the walling to keep straight on his path. Tight on his heels, Tohrment was with him in pursuit, and the echoes of their clamoring boots helped Darius determine the termination of the passageway. He pulled up short just in time, using his hands to locate the latch on the door.

Which the symphath hadn't taken the time to lock behind himself.

Ripping open the heavy wooden panels, Darius got a deep lungful of fresh air and caught sight of the jangling lantern up ahead, across the grasses.

Dematerializing and re-forming up close, he caught the symphath male and the vampire female next to the barn, blocking their escape such that the abductor was forced to halt.

With shaking hands, the sin-eater held a knife to his captive's throat.

"I shall kill her!" he screamed. "I shall kill her!"

Up against him, the female didn't struggle, didn't try to pull away, didn't beg to be saved or set free. She just stared ahead, her haunted eyes listless in her bleak face. Indeed, there was no paler skin to behold than that of the dead by moonlight. And verily, the daughter of Sampsone might have possessed a beating heart betwixt her ribs, but her soul had passed away.

"Let her go," Darius commanded. "Let her go and we shall let you live."

"Never! She is mine!"

The symphath 's eyes glowed red, his evil lineage shining in the night, and yet his youth and his panic evidently rendered him incapable of using his race's most powerful weapon: Although Darius braced himself for a mental onslaught, an invasion of his cranium did not ensue from the sin-eater.

"Let her go," Darius repeated, "and we shall not kill you."

"I have mated with her! Do you hear me! Mated with her!"