Dark Slayer

Those piercing eyes never once left her face, and if there was regret or remorse in his confession, she didn't hear it. He had traded his life and was willing to die this day, as the sun came up, to protect everyone else, Ivory included.

«He cannot have you,» she said. «I am sorry, but if what you say is true, then I have no choice but to render you unconscious so you do not know the way to my lair.»

For the first time his expression changed. «You cannot take me there, woman. I forbid it.» Both hands came up, and she felt the beginnings of the spell he was casting, one to force her compliance.

She was faster. Palms out, she shattered his spell so that small sparks clashed between them. She whispered softly and he blinked and fought for a moment, but starved and weak, his head slipped to one side as his eyes closed.

Ivory didn't hesitate once she'd made up her mind. She slung the Dragonseeker over her shoulder and took to the sky, racing the sun as it climbed toward the higher peaks. She streaked up through the driving snow, scanning the trails leading into the mountains for tracks of human vampire hunters, rare now, but still a menace to her kind. She let her senses flair out, seeking signs of the undead who may have taken refuge near her lair, or a stray hunter, one of the Carpathian males she was careful to hide her existence from.

In midflight, she found herself rolling her eyes. A fat lot of good that had done her when she'd stumbled across her lifemate, just lying out in the snow, so thin and drawn, so emaciated from starvation and suffering that she couldn't be heartless enough to leave him there.

«O jela peje terad-sun scorch you, palafertiilam-lifemate,» she hissed aloud.

It had never occurred to her that she would find herself in such a predicament. A male. She was bringing a sodden male to her home. Her haven. She should have told him terad keje-get scorched-and been done with him, but no, she had to be a simpering female and take the blasted man home with her.

She made for the gap between the two tall, towering columns of rock rising like horns above the mountain. The rock seemed solid and no one, in all the years she'd been residing there, had ever found that thin crack in the left rock that ran from the inside around to the base, where the tower met the mountain peak itself. It took a moment to disable her intricate mineralogical alarm/protection system so she could pass through with the male. She blew gently into the wind, stirring the snow into a mini-blizzard, covering her drop as she entered vaporized, pouring like fog into the crack and making her way down through the inside of the mountain.

Passing layers of rock, crystal caves and ice, all the while using the small crack that ran from the highest point to deep beneath the ground, she moved steadily lower until heat began to warm her and the pressure on her body increased. It always took a few moments to adjust to the depth beneath the earth, but over the years her body had adapted. If the Dragonseeker had been held prisoner by Xavier, then he'd been underground in the ice caves where Xavier ruled and his body would be somewhat acclimatized to the depths.

She continued down, past the caves where bats dwelled and even lower beyond the depths of the ice caves, where no Carpathian she knew ever slept. She'd found rich soil and a hollowed out cavern. Over the centuries she'd enlarged her living quarters to include several rooms. She'd brought in books, storing them on the floor-to-ceiling shelves she'd created. She'd painstakingly re-created each spell book she'd studied when she'd attended school under Xavier, back in the old days when Xavier had been thought to be a friend of the Carpathian people.

Her furniture suited her and her candles were made with the best healing fragrances and minerals she could find. In enlarging her lair, she'd come across a small flow of water, and although it had taken nearly seventy-five years, she'd hollowed out a natural basin in the solid rock and formed a pool for herself. She loved her pool, the cool, clean water that always flowed and cascaded down through the floor into the next bed of rock beneath them.

Once down in her lair, she reprogrammed her unique alarm system with its gems that not only weighed the mass dropping through the crack but provided light for her far beneath the surface. She shrugged off the wolves the moment she was inside her home, allowing them to take their natural forms, while she strode through the outer rooms, her sitting room where the wolves liked to curl up while she read or painted or played her instrument, and then the rooms where she did her metal work, constructing her weapons, before going down the stairs leading to the last room where they all slept.