As the last wriggling tentacle withered into ash, a huge bulb erupted a few feet from Julian, its mouth yawning wide. A spray of greenish-yellow liquid spewed toward Darius, who held himself still, widening the crevice, revealing the hidden chamber within, relying on Julian to defend them from the latest menace. Julian blasted the bulb with a laserlike burst of fire from the sky, incinerating it before the acid spray could touch Darius.
“The sun,” Julian reminded him, aware of its low position in the sky, seeing the reds and pinks of sunset stain the heavens.
“There is no way to hurry this procedure,” Darius replied softly. “The undead is aware of us and sends his minions to delay us.”
Julian reached out for the mind of their hidden opponent. You are weak, evil one. You should not have challenged one so much stronger than you. I am of ancient and powerful blood, undefeated these centuries by those far more learned in the arts than you. There is no way to win. You are already defeated.
Out of the darkened interior of the chamber rushed an army of large rats, leaping for the two Carpathians with a savage ferocity fed by starvation and compulsion. With his desperate, cunning mind, the vampire orchestrated the pack’s vicious attack. Julian realized the rats were charging Darius. The vampire was prepared for this dark one, but perhaps he had not comprehended that another hunter, too, was stalking him. The rats were charging Desari’s protector, suggesting that Dara was the undead’s ultimate goal. With a savage satisfaction, Julian leapt over the thick mass of furred bodies and made his way into the belly of the mountain.
The ancient he had spent lifetimes searching for was not in the lair; he would have immediately recognized Julian, his voice, his blood, the shadowing. Still, the merciless fury drove him inward, seeking his prey. This one would not escape.
The walls of the narrow tunnel bulged with razor-sharp, jagged spikes, erupting unexpectedly right, then left, as the vampire threw obstacles in his hunter’s path to delay him. The vampire was aware of the peril approaching and of the sun sinking. He felt he had a fighting chance if he could hamper the progress of the hunter long enough to allow the sun to set and his own strength to rise.
Julian simply thinned and elongated his body, sliding easily through the maze of sharpened spikes, continuing deeper within the bowels of the mountain. He smelled the evil stench, the lair of the beast. It stank of death and decay. As Julian stepped into the chamber itself, thousands of bats rushed at him, emitting high-pitched squeals of alarm. His mind automatically reached to calm them and sent them retreating back into the depths of the cave so they wouldn’t be caught in the light, prey for more aggressive species.
The vampire lay staring at him with red eyes hot with hatred, his thin, bloodless lips drawn back in a snarl to reveal rotting teeth. His skin had shrunk to barely cover his skull; he already resembled a skeleton. Julian wanted to feel pity for the damned creature, but his revulsion at such proximity to evil was overwhelming. He detested the undead with a relentless, merciless drive he could never overcome. In his childhood he had come far too close to such a repulsive being, and the rotted, foul stench was forever etched in his memory.
The vampire lay in a depression in the earth, rotted clothes, once elegant and fine, covering his emaciated body. He looked grotesque. As Julian approached, the mouth curved in a parody of a smile. “You are too late, hunter. The sun has dropped from the sky.” The vampire floated from the soil to an upright position.
Julian shrugged with studied casualness. “Do you not recognize me? We grew up together. You were once a great man, Renaldo. How is that you have sunk so low as to roam the earth in search of fresh kills?”
The head undulated back and forth in a palsied motion. “Why have you come to this place, Savage? You never concerned yourself with the politics of our race.” The vampire’s voice was an ugly hiss spewing from his throat.
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