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not so difficult to stop the original decay; he already knew the structure from studying it within his own
body. The mutations were more aggressive and complicated. It was important to know which was
moving faster and doing the most damage before he began to go after them.
By the time he had the walls of the heart repaired and the original strain destroyed, he had a good idea
of how the virus broke up the cell, reshaped it, and multiplied. He moved into an artery to begin his real
work. The poison was surging toward him, a solid army of cells on the offensive, rushing to overtake the
threat to it. Darius became a general, manufacturing his own army of antibodies. He sent wave after wave
toward the advancing poison. His creations began to pick up speed, moving quickly to destroy the
vampire's last deathtrap. It took tremendous strength for Darius to hold his bodiless state, to be only light
and energy, to keep up with the ever changing virus as it tried to mutate to escape the onslaught of
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warriors he had created to combat it.
He found himself admiring the vampire's work. It was genius, this taint, somewhere between virus and
poison, fast-acting and lethal with a kind of programmed intelligence. Its entire reason for existing was to
take over its host and ensure its own survival. Darius's work was complicated, but he did it with his usual
confidence and calm. The battle was strange and unfamiliar, but it was simply a matter of unraveling what
the vampire had wrought. Nothing would defeat him.
At the same time, a part of him was analyzing the Carpathian male his sister had chosen for her mate.
Savage was remarkable in that he had known the extent of the threat to himself, yet he had put Desari's
health and safety before his own. He had even healed the wounded birds that had aided him in his battle
with the ancient one, a great cost in time and energy, and he had wiped out all existence of the vampires
and their kills to preserve the secrets of their race.
Then Darius discovered a shadowing deep within Julian's body. He studied it a long time. The virus had
not tainted him thusly; this was something else, something Darius had never seen. It made him uneasy.
Julian, however, was extremely calm and accepting of Darius's presence in his body, confident in his
ability to heal. There was no doubt, no adrenaline to cope with, none of the body's defenses raised
against him as he worked. And Julian was aware he had discovered the dark shadow.
The ancient healing chant, soft and melodious, gave Darius added strength as his energy began to falter.
The familiar voices were all present: Desari, her voice itself healing and soothing; Syndil, gentle and
peaceful like her nature; Barack, strong and sure; Dayan, the ever present second in command ready to
aid him should there be need. Only when he managed to wipe out the last mutating strain and
manufacture the proper antibodies to hold it at bay did Darius allow himself to emerge back into his own
body.
His great strength was nearly depleted. He had worked for over two hours, an extraordinary time to be
out of his own body. He was swaying with weariness, his body crying out for sustenance, and he could
feel the first stirrings of unease at the approach of the sunrise.
At once Dayan thrust his wrist toward their leader. "Take what is freely offered," he said formally.
Desari touched her brother's shoulder. "You are gray, Darius. Please feed." She didn't want to tell him
his appearance was nearly as alarming as Julian's. She was wringing her hands anxiously, afraid of
touching Darius's mind to know if he thought Julian would live, afraid of asking the question aloud.
I live, my beautiful one. Julian's masculine voice brushed at her mind, enfolding her in warmth and
comfort and a kind of exasperated amusement.I live to teach my lifemate the meaning of obedience.
Your brother is as adept as Gregori, and that, my love, is the highest compliment I could pay him .
He sounded weary and far away, as if the strain to reach her was weakening him even more.
"Julian," she whispered aloud.
Darius swung his icy black gaze to her face in clear reprimand. With careful courtesy he closed the
laceration on Dayan's wrist and then bent his head to speak to Julian. "Hear me, lawless one. You are in
no shape to oppose me. If you do not wish me to place you under compulsion, you will remain silent and
conserve your strength to battle what is attempting to destroy both you and my sister." There was a hard
authority in his voice, complete conviction that he would do as he threatened if need be. Darius never
repeated himself; he often didn't even bother with a warning. He struck hard and fast. Those who knew
him obeyed without question.
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Julian lay as if dead, the action of his heart and lungs barely discernible, but incredibly, a faint grin eased
the look of death on his face. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]