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A stench rose, a combination of fetid rotting meat, dead carcasses and sulfur. His stomach lurched, but he didn't hesitate to follow her deeper into the tube. Bats rose from beneath and he had to resist the urge to strike out at them as he dropped onto the rockier ledges where the colony dwelled. He kept his mind firmly in hers, following her exact movements. She was a warrior, well versed in the ways of Xavier, determined to defeat him and the mutations he set loose on the world. He had firmly joined her war, and what better way to learn than from the expert.

He couldn't help but admire her complete concentration and single-minded, no-nonsense purpose. There was no wasted talk, no wasted movements. Ivory was all business, flooding him with information as they dropped to the floor of the lair. The rock surrounding them was dotted with dark holes, the floor covered in bones, fur; old and new blood splattered the rocks and soaked the floor, pooling in thick puddles and hiding in crevices.

This is a slaughterhouse.

Once they escape Xavier's command, they start this behavior, swarming and reproducing, killing everything around them. They'll pick the bones from a horse clean in minutes.

I saw Xavier's first experiments. He fed them human and mage alike. Razvan tried not to remember the sounds of those dying in agony, but the hideous smells triggered the memories and his stomach lurched. Once he threw one into my chamber. I was chained to the wall and it began to devour me from the feet up. I could feel every tooth as it tore into my flesh. I thought if it ate me, I would cease to exist, but I could not stand the agony after a while.

He didn't know why he felt compelled to make the admission, and was ashamed the moment he did. It had been long ago and he'd pushed those memories to the back of his mind until the stink of death and decay brought them crowding back.

Long ago, I had wolves gnaw on me, on my leg bone. Fortunately, they helped bury me.

Her voice was so matter-of-fact, he almost didn't understand what she'd said. She kept talking as if she hadn't revealed anything of importance at all.

What we are going to do is change the composition of air using our homemade grenades. The fire down here will burn hotter than anything you've ever felt, so remember, you cannot draw this chemical into your lungs and you have to protect yourself from the intense heat, even in this form. You will want to panic and go toward the surface, but the fire will race upward and we must wait until the chemical disperses. When you materialize to activate the grenade, they will swarm on us. The feeling is utterly horrifying. You felt one. Imagine hundreds.

Let's do it. The stench was getting to him, and the idea of exposing himself to hundreds, maybe thousands of the demonic creatures would be terrifying if he let himself think about it.

We do it on three. Materialize, pull the pin and count, and then throw it into the center of their lair. You have to hang on for five seconds. It will be a lifetime, believe me. Immediately resume this form and stay out away from rocks, but keep away from the center. Do not breathe, whatever you do, and do not attempt to surface, no matter how hot you get.

Razvan positioned himself to face her, hoping to block her face and the front of her body from the oncoming attack.

One. Two. Three.

Razvan took his solid form. At once his boots sank into the decayed, rotting bodies and, even as he pulled the pin on the chemical grenade and began counting, his arm swinging back for the throw, the bats swarmed over them, hundreds of them, the weight nearly driving them to the floor, teeth sinking deep and tearing at their flesh.

He heard the wolves roar, teeth snapping in return, protecting Ivory's back. The five seconds seemed an eternity as the gas hissed into the air. The bats continuously issued a high-pitched shriek that reverberated through his skull, a call for more to join the frenzied feast. He felt the chunks of flesh being torn from his back and legs. He stepped closer to Ivory, shielding her with his body while her wolves protected her back.

They both lobbed the grenades at the same time and simultaneously shifted. The flash was deafening in the small confines of the rocky cavern, shaking the earth. The light was so bright, even without his body the intensity burned his eyes. The blast blew Razvan back and he had to hastily right himself to keep himself away from the walls.

In purging the lair of every occupant, they changed the composition of the air to gas, igniting it in a raging fire that rocketed up the walls. The rocks glowed orange-red, flames licking greedily inside every hole and tunnel. The extreme pressure hurt every molecule of his body. The noise was terrifying, the crack of the splitting rocks as great fiery chunks gave way, and the death screams of the bats as their furry bodies heated from the inside out and either burst or exploded. Some erupted into flames.

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Dark Song
Dark Song

Two Carpathians find hope in the bond that ties their souls in this passionate novel in Christine Feehan's #1 New York Times bestselling series.Stolen from her home at a young age and tormented for centuries, Elisabeta Trigovise is scared to show herself to anyone. Even though she has been rescued and is now safe within the Carpathian compound, she has lived in fear for so long she has no idea how to survive without it. She wants to answer the siren call of her lifemate--but the very thought terrifies her.Before he found Elisabeta, Ferro Arany was an ancient warrior without emotion. Now that his senses have come alive, he knows it will take more than kind words and soft touches to convince the fractured woman that they are partners, not master and prisoner. For now, he will give her his strength until she finds hers, allowing the steady rhythm of his heart to soothe Elisabeta's fragile soul.But even as she learns to stand on her own, the vampire who kept her captive is desperate to claim her again, threatening the song Elisabeta and Ferro are writing together.Praise for Christine Feehan: 'After Bram Stoker, Anne Rice and Joss Whedon, Christine Feehan is the person most credited with popularizing the neck gripper' Time'Feehan has a knack for bringing vampiric Carpathians to vivid, virile life in her Dark Carpathian novels' Publishers Weekly'The erotic, gripping series that's defined an entire genre! Must reading that always satisfies!' J.R. Ward'The queen of paranormal romance' USA Today

Кристин Фихан

Любовное фэнтези, любовно-фантастические романы

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