Dark Legend. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 8

“He would not have allowed the others to destroy me.” Gabriel sounded as calm as ever, his voice soft and comforting. “It is a game to him. No other can play it. Only I have the potential to defeat him. He would have liked me to attack him. He is probably disappointed that I did not.”

The pure, beautiful voice filled their heads. “You have grown soft, Gabriel. I was prepared for such an action, yet you passed up the perfect opportunity.”

“You looked tired, Lucian. I did not want an unfair advantage.” Gabriel’s reply was gentle. “You need a rest, you seek ever to find a resting place, a way to leave this world behind. Tell me where you are that I may come to you and aid you in your long-awaited journey.”

Francesca’s heart jumped at the idea, fear racing through her bloodstream so that she actually felt physically ill. She waited for the answer, terrified that Lucian would call Gabriel to his side. They would fight to the death. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. Gabriel would never go unscathed by so powerful a being.

The laughter that followed Gabriel’s words should have been ugly and horrible to hear, yet Lucian’s voice was a beautiful instrument filling them with a soothing, tranquil feeling. Their tranquility was quickly dispersed when he spoke. “You seek to entrap me with your voice, brother. I do not think entrapment is possible between us.”

“I did once.”

“Locking me to you beneath the earth was an interesting move and one I did not expect.” There was a certain note of admiration in the beautiful voice.

“You were weak from loss of blood.”

“Now you seek to anger me, hoping I will continue our conversation so you may follow my trail. I am incapable of emotion, brother, not even anger. The precious gift was not bestowed on me as one of the legions of undead. But I am glad to tell you where I am at this moment. I am bending over the child you claim as yours. She is unusual, a rarity in a world filled with carbon copies.” There was a subtle threat, a subtle challenge.

Francesca cried out and without thinking dropped Brice’s wrist. She had all but forgotten him. Now she could think only of Skyler lying helpless in bed with the vampire bending ever closer to her neck. She pushed Brice into a sitting position, issuing a command to awaken from his dream even as she dissolved into a million droplets of water and streamed back toward the hospital.

“I forbid this, Francesca.” Gabriel’s voice was quiet, authoritative. “It is a trap.”

“I will not give her to him.” There was a sob in her voice, in her mind. She knew Gabriel was already winging his way toward their shared destination.

“I am sorry, my love. I cannot allow such a threat to you.” Gabriel’s voice whispered against the walls of her mind like butterfly wings.

Without warning Francesca abruptly changed direction. Alarmed, she cried out to Gabriel. She was no longer in control of her motion, someone else was controlling her flight. Instinctively she attempted to fall to the ground, to shape-shift, but it was impossible. “Gabriel!”

“Do not fear so, Francesca, I am merely doing my duty. You will wait for me in the protection of our home.”

The soft, taunting laughter came again, moving through their minds and bodies like a warm, molten spread of sunshine. The power of Lucian’s voice was incredible. “What safeguards do you think to use to keep me at bay? Have you learned much that you have not shared with your own twin?”

“Do not think yourself invincible, Lucian. I have bested you once, I may do so again,” Gabriel replied calmly.

His very calmness strengthened her, allowed Francesca to push aside her horror. She was shocked at Gabriel’s strength, that he could command an ancient such as herself in flight, hold her course steady, safeguard her, yet continue his journey toward the hospital even as he conversed so calmly with his mortal enemy. His calm was not a facade. He was completely confident, an ancient warrior who had battled continually, fought his way through the long centuries. The forthcoming battle would be the culmination of those centuries of experience. At once she stopped fighting him, not wanting to make his tasks more difficult.

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