Julian, still a shadow in her mind, found himself smiling at her thoughts. He might be too weary to go berserk at this precise moment, but he was grateful she was considerate of his feelings. He incinerated the human bodies and blew their ashes over a large area, leaving their camp scorched and blackened, as if it had taken a bolt of lightning in a ferocious storm. The authorities would never find the bodies, and would perhaps presume the campers had drowned, the currents carrying them off. Julian felt for the families, but he could leave no evidence of the vampire’s handiwork or tainted blood to be analyzed by some human coroner. Protecting his race was top priority. He had no other choice. He took one last look around to assure himself he had done all he could to hide any evidence of the undead. Satisfied, he began to walk toward their own campsite.
Chapter Ten
Desari kicked the wheel of the bus. “The darn thing refuses to start. I knew it. I knew it would happen at the worst possible time.” She kicked the tire again in frustration.
Julian stood in the shadows of the trees, swaying slightly, his eyes glued to Desari’s slender figure. She was all grace, like flowing water, her ebony hair cascading around her like waves of silk. She was beautiful even in her fit of temper.
She swung around, her enormous eyes instantly locating him beneath the trees. At once her expression changed to one of deep concern. He was gray and drawn, blood coating his shirt. He looked so tired, she was alarmed. She instantly leapt across the space separating them, one slim arm curving around his waist in an attempt to support him. “Lean on me, Julian,” she crooned softly. He had walked the distance, not flown or used his astonishing speed in any way. It was evidence of his ebbing strength.
He circled her shoulders, putting a small amount of his weight on her. She looked so anxious, he wanted to kiss her in reassurance, but the poison inside him was growing and spreading, and he wouldn’t take the chance of infecting her. “You must call Darius to us, Desari,” he ordered softly. He had given this much thought on his return to her. He had wanted to call Gregori to him, the healer he knew and trusted, but there was no time to lose. He would need to avail himself of Darius’s strength and expertise.
She helped him up the step and into the bus. Julian went down the aisle on shaky legs and nearly fell onto the couch. “You need blood, Julian, and then, once in the ground, you will recover quickly.” She sounded anxious in spite of her determination not to.
Julian shook his head. “Call Darius to us.” His voice was a thread of sound, his lashes sweeping down as if he were fighting to stay awake and cognizant.
Darius. Can you hear me?
Desari was alarmed now. Julian was not the kind of man to ask for help.
You have need?
Darius was far away, but he could sense her fear.
Come to us now. Please hurry, Darius. J am afraid.
Julian laced his fingers through hers. “You have called him to us?”
She tightened her grip on him, afraid he was slipping away from her. “Yes. Feed now, Julian, and go to earth until he gets here.”
“I will not take a chance on contaminating you. Go to the others. They will protect you until your brother and I are able.” His eyes were closed now completely, his skin ashen.
Desari brought his hand to her mouth, but before she could kiss the lacerations on his knuckles, heal them with the agent in her saliva, he had snatched his hand away.
“Do not!” It was a sharp reproof.
“Talk to me. Tell me why you refuse what I offer. It is my right to heal you, to feed you and care for you.” Desari was hurt and afraid, the emotions swirling around until she could not separate them.
There was a stirring in her mind, warmth, the impression of arms stealing around her shoulders, holding her close. His heart was beating abnormally slowly, she could feel it in her mind, hear the irregular pulsing. “This was an ancient,
cara,
one of the eldest vampires, much skilled in the old ways. His blood is extremely dangerous.”
“You took it out of my system, Julian.” She bent over him anxiously. “Take it from your own.”
“I do not have the strength,
piccola.
Do not fear for me. I will not leave you. Go now to the others so that I know you are safe.”
Desari sat up straight, suddenly comprehending. “You think more undead might come.”
“I believe you and the other female—Syndil—are drawing them here. They seek mates, thinking that will guide them back to their emotions and souls. Go, Desari, while the sun is still far away.” Julian feared
he
would come, his ancient enemy, feared he would be drawn right to Desari.
Julian’s voice was nearly gone. Even his breathing was labored. Whatever was spreading inside him was taking a stranglehold on his lungs and heart. Desari stroked back the golden hair falling across his forehead. He was cold and clammy. She knew his fears for her were very powerful, but how could she leave him?
He had only been in her life a short time, yet he was the air she breathed. Her body recognized his. Her heart and soul were finally complete. She had to be wherever he was.
Darius, please hurry,
she whispered, knowing he was already in flight, powerful wings covering the distance between them in the shortest possible time. But he had to hurry.
What would she do if the vampire had other partners? She was not a warrior; how would she defend Julian in his weakened state? Again she had the impression of warmth and reassurance from Julian.
Just then something hit the outside of the bus with enough force to rock the solid vehicle. Her heart leapt in apprehension. At once, Julian struggled to his feet, his face harsh and merciless, carved in granite. “Sing the ancient healing chant, Desari. It is in your mind, I have heard it there. Merge with me while you sing.”
His transformation from being nearly dead to this commanding presence was shocking. His head was up, and he was striding purposefully to the door of the bus. Desari sat still, her heart pounding. She could not send him off unaided. He would have her strength and courage, her belief in him, and any other aid he should need. Her voice began the ancient chant, as old as time, something they were born with, the memory already imprinted on them. It was soothing and peaceful, and her unique voice strengthened the power of it.
Julian listened to the notes as he made his way out into the night. Her voice was so pure, it pushed aside the effects of the vampire’s poison enough for him to focus. Outside, shadows were moving under the trees, ringing the bus.
Julian breathed a sigh of relief. Not another vampire but merely the dead one’s enslaved minions, the undead’s ghouls. These former humans had tremendous strength and cunning—the vampire’s blood ran in their veins—but they were not immortal. They slept in sewers and graveyards to escape the deadly sun, ate living flesh and blood. They lived to serve their master, hoping that one day immortality would be bestowed on them. Julian knew such a thing to be impossible. They were already dead, mere puppets, living only by the vampire’s whim and tainted blood.
He stepped out of the bus and faced these living dead. Their target would be Desari. Though their master was destroyed, they had no choice but to carry out his orders to acquire her, and they would be brutal in their rage and fear. Julian’s first task was to safeguard Desari, rigging the bus with the most powerful safeguards he was capable of weaving in the event the ghouls should defeat him in his weakened state. Darius would have to unravel what Julian had wrought.
Stall them until Darius gets here.
Julian heard the plea in Desari’s voice. She couldn’t bear him to be in any more pain.