Dark Storm (19 page)

“All those weapons you have, you were expecting this. Clearly, from the beginning, you knew.”

Gary shook his head. “No, that’s not true. We actually came here to research a particular plant we thought long extinct. A small group of adventurers had come here last year and one had a picture of the plant on his blog on the Internet. A friend of ours just happened to stumble across the photograph and sent it to me knowing my interest in rare plants. Jubal and I were both excited about it. I got in touch with the miner who described the plant and I became certain it was what we were looking for. We contacted a guide and came.”

“But our guide was ill,” Jubal said. “Just like yours and Dr. Patton’s guide.”

“And ours,” Ben added.

Gary nodded. “So we threw in with everyone and figured since we were all going to the same general area, we could travel together and then go our own way when we got to the mountain. At that point we didn’t have a clue anything was wrong.”

“We began to suspect we were dealing with the undead when all the strange things began happening and they were clearly directed at your mother,” Jubal added. “There’s a certain feel to evil, and we’ve both felt it before.”

Ben shook his head. “No. No way. I’ve studied vampire lore around the world, and I’ll admit, there’s a part of me that wanted to believe something like that existed, like in the movies. I ran into a group of people in my travels that totally believe in vampires and claim they hunt and kill them. They were all nut jobs. Completely whacko. There are no such things as vampires. The people they killed were ill, or lived differently or had trouble being out in the sun. I investigated each victim and none of them were vampires. The few people who act like vampires, killing for blood, are in mental institutions for the criminally insane.”

“True enough,” Gary agreed. “I know exactly the people you’re talking about. I was mixed up with them once, a long time ago, and yes, they kill indiscriminately. They target someone and then twist facts to fit what they want to believe, but that doesn’t negate the fact that vampires exist.”

“If that’s true,” Ben argued, “why doesn’t anyone know about it?”

Riley had to admit it was a good question. She kept her head on her knees, but watched Gary’s face carefully. He truly believed what he was saying. Jubal did as well. Neither struck her as insane. She’d felt evil when she’d plunged her hands into the soil. Even more, she’d heard it—heard its voice. There was no denying it, as much as she’d like to.

“How was he able to get the bats and monkeys, even the piranha and that snake to target my mother if he was trapped in the volcano?” she asked, not waiting for Gary or Jubal to answer Ben’s very logical question. She believed Gary, and that was just plain terrifying.

“Vampires can be very powerful. If this one has survived locked in that volcano, we’re dealing with an extremely powerful one. He has been around for more centuries than we can imagine, growing in power.”

Riley closed her eyes briefly. She’d let something truly evil out into the world. “There are stories, folklore we believed, about the devastation of both the Cloud People and the Incas living here, that something had killed their best warriors and destroyed their villages. They thought it was an evil god who demanded sacrifices of children and women, yet never was appeased. Could it be that old?”

“Yes,” Gary replied simply.

Riley wanted to curl up into a ball and lay in the comfort of the soil. She hadn’t had time to grieve for her mother and she felt overwhelmed with sadness so abruptly she could barely think. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to talk or hear any more. She wanted to be a child and cover her ears. She sighed instead and forced her weary body to sit straighter. “So do you carry stakes on you along with those weapons?” It was a halfhearted attempt at humor, the best she could muster under the circumstances.

Ben snickered. “Wooden stakes? Are you kidding me?”

“Stakes don’t work,” Jubal said. “You have to incinerate the heart. You can shoot them, stab them, stake them and even cut off their head, but if you don’t burn that heart, they can repair themselves.”

A groan escaped her. Of course you would have to incinerate the heart. Anything else would be just too easy.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Now I know you’re crazy.”

“I wish I could tell you I’m making this up,” Gary said. “But I’m not. Everyone is at risk now. All of us. Every tribesman. Every member of our party that tried to get away from the volcano. He’ll be looking for blood and he’ll kill anyone he comes across. Not only will he take blood, but he’ll take their memories and learn at a rapid rate so that he’ll fit in anywhere he goes. His lack of knowledge of the past centuries won’t mean anything within a matter of days.”

Riley ran the pad of her finger back and forth over her eyebrow, trying to ease the beginnings of a headache. “Then we have to find the others and make certain they’re safe.”

Ben frowned at her. “You’re actually buying into this? An honest-to-God vampire who won’t die even if you drive a stake through its heart. Even if we stab or shoot it.”

She nodded slowly. “I don’t want to buy into it, Ben, but I do. Those animals behaved completely against their nature, and something drove Capa to murder my mother. So call it whatever you want to call it, but I want to know how to kill whatever it is. I want to know exactly what to expect when I come across it, because I don’t want any more surprises.”

Ben scowled at her but nodded his head. “I suppose you have a point.”

“Vampires can be very cunning,” Jubal explained. “They’re masters of illusion. They appear to be charming and handsome, but in fact, they mask what and who they are. They can get inside your head and make you do whatever they wish. You’ll go to them when they command it and allow them to rip out your throat. You will give them your children or any loved one if they demand it.”

“Great,” Riley said. “The worst monster imaginable, right? That’s what you’re saying. Just say that. So, along with a gun I need a flamethrower. I noticed you had one, Gary. Can I borrow it? I’m fairly certain it’s me Vamp doesn’t like. He made that pretty clear.”

“I say we get the hell out of here the minute we can,” Ben said. “Whatever it is can live off the piranha.”

“But he wouldn’t,” Gary said. “A vampire feeds off of humans.”

“I agree that you and Riley need to get out of here as fast as possible,” Jubal said. “We should find the others and get them moving out of the rain forest and back to civilization as fast as possible.”

“Has anyone considered how we’re going to get out of here?” Ben ventured.

Riley felt their eyes on her. If the vampire couldn’t get in, she might just consider staying for a very long time. She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m not even sure that it’s safe to go out yet. The ground is still shaking, and when I put my hands into the soil, I feel heat.”

As she spoke, she thrust her hands deep into the soil. As before, her body reacted to the energy coiling around her palms and fingers. That soothing warmth seeped into her pores. She stayed very still and listened. The ground creaked and moaned—whispered softly. She caught the sound of her mother’s voice, just a faint echo as if she was laughing and the merry notes traveled through rock and soil to find her. Tears clogged her throat.

She closed her eyes, inhaling. At first she could hear the men breathing. An occasional jarring crash resounded on the roof above her head. She forced herself to block out the distractions and pushed her awareness deep, searching for a connection, a way to tap into that vein of information that seemed to be just out of reach. She could hear rumblings and knew if she just tuned in, she would understand what was happening in the world around her.

She had a message center willing to impart information to her, she just hadn’t learned how to use it yet, but each time she pushed her hands into the rich soil, she found she unlocked more of the mysteries surrounding her mother. Whatever gift exchanged from mother to daughter was locked here in the ground waiting for her to discover the legacy that had been left to her. She just needed to find the right words to draw the secrets to her. With others depending on her, she needed to figure it out.

She took another breath and let it out, pushing away the need for action or hurry. The men disappeared, taking with them the sounds of their presence. The walls of the cavern melted away. Fear and grief left her until there was only the sound of her lungs moving in and out rhythmically. For a few minutes she breathed, allowing the mechanics of that simple process to clear and open her mind completely.

She became aware of a pulse beating—an eternal thrum, coming from the very center of the earth’s core. Through the pads of her fingers she felt an expanding cloud of extremely hot gas, and felt an intimate connection with that older star exploding violently, yet giving birth to new stars, to the sun and moon and planet Earth. She actually could see the creation in her mind, the nebula collapsing and cooling into a flattened, slowly spinning disk. Earth’s surface covered by the pulsating ocean of molten rock.

Riley felt the bubbling magma beneath the surface, the shifting of plates and pushing up of mountains and the roots spreading out, like great chains and vines, deep beneath the sea, under every continent, connecting every part of the planet together—connecting it all with her. The first soft whispers came to her, murmurs filling her mind, voices of women long past, welcoming her to their sisterhood.

Her heart sang when she recognized the familiar, comforting feel of her mother and grandmother.

8

D
ax stared into the hate-filled, triumphant eyes of the vampire. Just as the volcano had changed Dax, Mitro, too, had evolved into something else. He had spent hundreds of years inside that superheated environment, and to withstand the pressure, gases and heat, Mitro had shifted into a form that was better suited. Over the centuries, his body had taken on the shell of a mutated lizard.

Heavy ridges dissected Mitro’s skull, drawing his skin tight over heavy bones. Singed hair stood straight up in spiked razor-sharp rows. Eyelids had grown heavier and the eyes themselves, windows to the soul, reflected back a pure black, no white showing at all, no soul within. Scars from the magma formed deep pits over most of his exposed skin. Slime-covered skin had yellowed and gave off a faint scent of rotten eggs. The chamber began to spin. Poisonous gas infused in the vampire’s thick, mottled skin induced lethargy and clouded the mind.

Dax forced his brain to work. The withered heart of the vampire had been incinerated, yet he still lived. How? And how could any hunter possibly kill the undead if he didn’t die when he should have? In all the endless years of destroying the undead, he’d never encountered such a thing, nor heard of it.

The mountain shook. A boom reverberated through the chamber. Maniacal laughter grated, slicing through his head. Staring straight into his eyes, Mitro drove his clawing fist deeper into Dax’s chest. Agony, bright and hot, robbed Dax of breath. The talons ripped and tore, shredding sinew and muscle, digging a hole, tunneling deep in an effort to reach the Carpathian’s beating heart.

That dark parody of a grin widened, jagged, stained teeth in receding gums rushing toward his neck even as the greedy talons grasped at his heart. In that moment everything changed. Dax didn’t have the luxury of dying, leaving Mitro loose on the world. Dax had to live no matter what.

He drew back, ignoring the agony ripping through him, took a breath and unleashed a torrent of fire straight into Mitro’s malevolent face. The vampire howled, jerking back, twisting his arm viciously as he withdrew his empty fist. Mitro threw himself to one side to avoid the steady stream of flames pouring from the hunter’s throat, his scream filling the chamber.

Bright red blood sprayed into the air from Dax’s torn chest. Great globs of burning blackened blood, a poisonous acid, from Mitro’s open chest splattered through the chamber and burned into ashes, raining down over him. Gases exploded into fiery balls, hurtling through the enclosed space, pitting deep craters into the walls. Vents burst below them, more noxious gas rising along with bright orange-red sprays of molten rock.

Mitro hammered at the thin barrier, slamming into it over and over like a battering ram, dodging the fiery bombs blasting upward from the lower pools of roiling magma. Dax leapt after the vampire, reaching with the tips of his fingers to hook an ankle and yank the undead backward. A thousand tiny needles punctured his palm, burning on contact. His first instinct was to let go, but he forced himself to hold on, dragging the vampire back down toward the bubbling pool of heated rock.

Mitro drove his foot into the hole in Dax’s chest. Pain exploded through the hunter. For a moment everything went black. His body shut down, his hand slipping off the ankle. He tumbled through the air before he caught himself. Mitro was at the barrier, ramming his ridged skull over and over into the same spot. Dax streaked upward to try to intercept him again.

The mountain rumbled ominously—held its breath for one still second—and then heaved. The concussion sent both combatants reeling. Dax slammed hard into the wall before he could catch himself. Heat seared his body. Blood dripped from his ears. His vision blurred. The chamber filled with gaseous vapor, and the sudden increase in pressure nearly tore him apart.

In that instant, he felt the Old One rise to protect him. His body had grown accustomed to the conditions of the volcano over the centuries, but neither he nor Mitro would fare well when the volcano erupted and the dragon knew it.

The Old One took possession fast, his soul rising, spreading out to encompass Dax. Crimson and orange scales first engulfed Dax’s body, sliding smoothly and efficiently from his head to his toes. The hard shell covered the gaping hole in his chest, but his blood continued to seep out between the scales, staining his chest scarlet.

Dax was used to shapeshifting, but this felt different. When Carpathians shifted, there was no sense of the body completely remaking itself, but this time, there was. He could feel his mass increase, his bones lengthen and reshape. He could feel the wings sprouting from his back, the supple, scaled hide stretching out like vast sails catching an ocean wind. He could feel his nails lengthen, become razor-tipped diamond talons. Strength, agility and raw, primal emotion coursed through his veins. He wasn’t a hunter who’d assumed the shape of a dragon: he
was
a dragon. Mighty. Powerful. Master of fire. King of the sky. And though his consciousness was still there, the Old One was there, too, ancient and powerful and just as deadly.