Carpathian series is a figment of Christine Feehan's imagination, not mine, however the characters Logan and Phoenix are my creations. Please R&R as the support I received for Dark Acceptance was immensely flattering.
'UP! ... Get Up, Phoenix, up, up, up' Logan yelled at his sister, flinching as another snore reverberated throughout the spacious bedroom, he shoved her again but the only response was an inelegant snort from under the folds of the duvet.
Sighing in defeat Logan hopped off of the mattress and trekked back through piles of worn three week old laundry, stacks of CD's and mouldy pizza boxes towards the open plan kitchen. Reaching for his fail-safe plan and glass of orange juice, pulp free of course he held his breath as he prepared to re-enter the most dreaded abyss that never failed to churn his stomach. Balancing the orange juice rather precariously on stack of books on Phoenix's nightstand he lifted what he presumed to be the top of the duvet and slipped the plate underneath. Barely a breath of time went by before the duvet was shot to the end of the bed and the slight figure of his sister was bolt upright and munching on the bacon. Oh yeah, that trick never failed, freshly fried bacon could bring Phoenix back from the dead.
'Oh my God, it's extra crispy, Loge you're the best' her sleep-laden voice mumbled, proving the rest of her hadn't quite caught up to her appetite.
'Get a move on, Nix you've slept most the night away, it's almost ten,'
'Crap, why did you let me sleep so late, aren't you the 'responsible one'?'
Logan gave her a droll stare that let her know exactly how much he cared for that comment.
'Oh, was I snoring again?' she grinned
'Like a bear with a sinus infection' he responded dryly as he vacated the room with an ill-covered urgency she knew too well.
Groaning she got out of bed, downed her orange juice in one gargantuan gulp and fished around the floor for something acceptable to wear. Finally settling on a burgundy peasant top with a black embroidered corset, black jeans and well worn in burgundy biker boots Phoenix grabbed her iPod and Bullet For My Valentine hoodie and went out to meet Logan, who of course was cleaning, big surprise there then.
'Y'know, if you put down the Mr Muscle long enough we might be able to get out of here before all the good vamps go home' she remarked
'I would if I thought you actually understood the concept of hygiene' he replied softly without looking up from the kitchen counter.
'Trust me Mr Narcissist '09, there's hygiene and there's good ol' fashioned OCD' she mocked as they collected their tools and left the apartment.
'Do you even know what narcissist means?' Logan asked in a strained tone.
'Of course'
'Oh yeah? Spell it.' He dared.
'A-S-S-H-O-L-E, or if speaking in a local dialect, L-O-G-A-N' abruptly they both fell into giggles as Logan circled her skinny shoulders and pulled her into a mock headlock. For all of their teasing and jibbing, no matter they had fewer similarities than chalk and cheese they loved each other more than anyone else. They had been born together as twins and they would likely die the same. After their parents had died in a cold hearted betrayal when they were just seven years old they had to rely solely on each other for comfort and company. Neither had ever quite fit in to the jet-set lifestyle their peers were so deeply involved in, they had been branded freaky outcasts in school, sitting by themselves in the cafeteria at lunch playing poker and gin while being within hearing distance of every ones taunts and judgements they had developed F U attitudes without giving two left thumbs of what the world thought of them. Even during college most people were embarrassed to be seen hanging out with them. Mostly they had attracted attention from the opposite sex but said attention only lasted long enough for a quickie in a dorm room and a uncouth goodbye, neither of the twins were that morally depraved so it had been for most of their lives they were left to their own eccentric devices.
'Do you ever think what we do is well... wrong?' Phoenix admitted almost hesitantly
'How do you mean?' Logan was curious to his sister's sudden influx of conscience
'We find these ... vampire things and kill them because they've killed a person, but they might just be eating, we kill cows and pigs and sheep by the thousands, millions every day but nobody's punishing us for it, it just seems a bit ... hypocritical.'
'No it's not hypocritical, those things are evil, Nix, they absolutely love to kill those people, they don't need to kill humans to survive, maybe even if they just take a small bit of blood and leave the rest that's something but they choose to kill. C'mon Nix you've spoken to their victims heard what they did, it's not right to just sit by and let all these people die at the hands of these bastards' Logan was getting agitated just thinking about it. He always did.
As soon as they stepped outside the building Phoenix knew they were too late for one sorry soul, the anguish he or she was exuded thick enough to make her head throb in sympathy.
'We're too late' she gasped
'Can you find them?' he shook her gently, from her reaction he could tell it was going to be really bad.
Phoenix reached out, blocking out the living spirits so that they were no more than white noise and blurs on the sidewalk. Now only the spirits without vessels were in her sightline, hundreds of them still caught along this street, all dressed in different period styles varying from early colonial times, to civil war uniforms, short skirts and cloche hats of the 'Roaring 20's' and pastel coloured polyester suits of the 80's. Most spent their time talking to each other, comparing deaths and the time period they came from, some chose to shout their angst in to thin air in the futile attempts that whatever wrong was done will then be undone. She had no interest in these spirits she was looking for a new ghost, one who had died in complete agony and terror, an abomination of fate. These ghosts had a particular voice and cry, a unique aura of desolation and misery that pegged them as a victim from one that should by all rights be amongst the dead of the ages. Then she heard it, a scream so piercing and shrill it chilled her to her very bones, it was a scream so filled with agony and sorrow even the other spirits had to turn toward the sound in sympathy and understanding. Resonating all the way up 5th Avenue Phoenix traced the source to...
'Bryant Park, behind the Public Library, come on we might be able to find him from there.'
The ride over seemed more tense and slow with every block that passed and every scream that echoed from the corpse's spirit; as always when chasing a vampire, Phoenix's fingers itched towards the door handle, the urge to leap out and run to the victim was so strong she had to grip the dashboard hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. After what could only be described as a college lecturer's pace the BMW Z4 pulled up outside New York Public library. Practically hurdling from the convertible Phoenix ran toward the screams as if the devil himself was chasing her, in reality she was chasing him and she always caught up...
Etienne De'Verre stalked through the bustling New York streets. All around him people laughed, talked, smiled, frowned, a few he'd passed had been crying over the phone, anger and hurt laid thick through their voices. Oblivious to it all he remained locked in his numb mind. So many countless centuries spent slaughtering friends and relatives he could swear he had died with them a long time ago. There was nothing left in his heart or his soul, compassion and mercy were as foreign to his nature as they were to one of the undead yet still he fought on. Taming the ruthless beast within, a beast that roared for blood and power. It grew louder with every rising, his resolve was waning, soon there would be a conclusion. Yet another minion of evil or a dawn ash to find peace in the wind. At one time he could remember wanting a lifemate and children. He so badly had wanted children to pass his vast array of knowledge on to. And a lifemate to gaze upon him with a fierce love and burning lust in her eyes. Eyes that he could appreciate the colour of, try to think of names for all the different shades held within. Alas, it was never meant to be, he had left his homeland in Romania so long ago he had no hope of finding her. As soon as he had completed his work here he would die honourably and walk in to the sun. All that mattered now was finding out what these vampires had planned with the city and stopping them before too many hapless victims were claimed.
Striding along 5th Avenue he caught the oppressive stench of the vampire, undetected by derisory human senses it was nothing but a twinge in the nostrils from this distance, but to Etienne it was a potent reek that permeated his senses and tossed his innards. Following the taint of evil he came to a park located behind the famed library, a library that contained ancient books he remembered being published, already he could tell one person had died here, scanning the area he saw the blood smeared legs of the vampire's first victim of the night, gliding over to where the body had been carelessly dumped. She was female, young no more than twenty two, an engagement ring sparkled on her ring finger. He could tell she had dark hair, though the exact colour he wasn't sure. Her face was locked in an expression of morbid terror, eyes glazed and fixed to the sky, mouth hanging wide in an eternal silent scream. He wanted to feel grief over the senseless death, for the young life that was extinguished before it even had an opportunity to glow, but he felt nothing, only logic and hunger ruled his mind. Nothing more. But to leave her like this went against his upbringing. He bent down to the girls side, passing a hand over her face he closed her eyes. 'Sas csitri kunasz , rauho joe ted' Hush little one, close your eyes, peace will come to you. He whispered in her ear the only tribute he had to offer her life.
He sensed it more than felt it. A rush of putrid air swirled around him concealing lethal claws that tore through flesh and muscle. Blood sprayed in a geyser from his side, Etienne pushed past the pain, when he had been a training warrior back in his homeland he had been renowned for his ability to fight fiercely with the most horrific wounds. Pain only served to strengthen his fortitude. Standing straight and tall he turned to greet his rival who was now licking greedily at the ancient blood coating his hand behind him.
'Bonjour Rurik, I see this night is your chosen time for your judgment'
Phoenix watched from behind a tall tree aghast at what she had witnessed. She had never known a vampire to treat their meals so gently or with such remorse. It had almost seemed as if he had been giving her a burial.
'Have you ever seen anything like that?' Logan asked telepathically afraid to disturb the scene
'No, I didn't think they had it in them to care about who they killed' she replied morosely
'That's not the one who did it, can't you tell? He's a good guy, the other was revolting, all I can remember is his breath and his teeth. I kept thinking I just want to go home to see David but he wouldn't let me' Holly gradually began to wail again until it was an all-out shriek in her ears.
'I know, honey, let us take care of the one who killed you and we'll make sure you're at peace' Phoenix whispered 'Do you know where he ...'
She trailed off as movement caught her eye, she glanced at the vampire to see he was covered in his own blood, a huge gash in his side looking as if someone tried to crack his rib cage open with their bare hands. Before her very eyes a man appeared out if thin air, he licked at blood smeared across his hands with a thick obscene tongue. At first glance he was incredibly beautiful and elegant, tall and lean with shiny black hair and the face of a D&G model. However after looking at him and the other the illusion began to fade, the assailant possessed a bullet shaped head with dull gray tufts of stringy hair sticking out from various points in his skull. His body seemed to emaciate from a fit physique into a skeletal waif, chunks of rotting flesh hung from his limbs.
Both combatants looked as if they were conversing as old friends, the other didn't even seem to notice the hole in his side, not even making an effort to staunch the flow of blood. She was vaguely aware of Logan creeping toward the pair although she was too entranced with the vampires to try to warn him off.
Logan could only hope the two creatures remained absorbed in their exchange to not notice his approach. Both Phoenix and himself had a catlike agility and stealth, it made ambushing their opponents easier once the trap was set. Unsheathing a long carving knife from his boot he carefully used the power of his mind to lift it in the air, he aimed for the one with his back to him, the one who had apparently killed Holly, the knife shot through the air like a bullet, staying true to its mark the dagger pierced straight through the heart. A penetrating scream launched into the night as he watched the vampire convulse and undulate before dropping to the floor. Logan however was far from through with his mission. Taking an ornate silver lighter, decorated in black crucifixes on either side, he fired it up, the tiny flame leapt and fluttered a bit before booming into a nine foot inferno, using the image in his mind he worked the flames into an oriental dragon shape. The dragon crackled and rippled before slithering through the air to burn through the vampires chest until only ash remained.
As the flames died down Logan smiled to himself, that was until he realised the other had disappeared. Turning back toward Phoenix he began to warn her but to his dismay only a choked out gag emerged from his throat. He felt a thudding ache against his head as he realised his feet had left the ground and he was pinned against a tree with crushing fingers wrapped alarmingly tight around his throat. Red eyes glowed menacingly at him as his consciousness started to waver but he had to fight. He couldn't leave Phoenix all alone in the world, not with the monsters they had to share it with.
Etienne couldn't think past the killing rage that consumed him. This boy. This human had interrupted his conversation, a conversation that could well have provided answers for the plight of his people and given him clues to the enemies next attack. So little had been learned, only of a girl who could corral the dead, one who could be a portal for the vampire masses who had been sent to the next world. It was hardly useful.
'Get away from him!' a feminine voice screamed, sheer rage and fear evident in the cry.
Colours burst in his eyes, the bright grass green of the boys shirt, the deep brown of his jacket. The deep rich midnight blue of the sky with the flecks of decadent sliver in the stars. Emotions whirled around his head. Too many. Too intense. Feelings he had no real memory of were dancing around in his brain and fleeted to make way for more. He turned toward that beautiful voice. To find a girl pointing a gun at his head.
It was her.
It was finally her...
