Part 10 (1/2)

Selene handed the pendant to Michael.

”I've seen this before,” she told him, ”when I was a child. I held it. When it was open like this.”

Michael didn't understand. ”How's that possible?” He hadn't seen Selene in any of Lucian's memories of the Dark Ages. Was this before Sonja died, before Lucian had claimed the pendant as his own? It has to be, he thought. That's the only scenario that makes sense.

”I don't know,” she said, obviously troubled. He found it hard to imagine that Selene had ever been a child, even though he knew that she had once been human. Her eyes lit up as an idea popped into her head. ”But I know someone that might.”

Throwing aside the blanket, she hastily slid back into her leathers and geared up. Unafraid of the cold, she left her torn trench coat behind. Michael got into the pa.s.senger seat of the Land Rover, his own bloodstained jacket having seen better days. He was tempted to drive, but she knew where they were going, not him. Selene got behind the wheel and slammed her door shut.

”Andreas Tanis,” she explained on the run. ”He was the official historian of the covens, back when there was such a post.” She jammed the key into the ignition. Michael felt a surge of satisfaction as the engine fired up; his repair job seemed to have paid off. ”But he fell out of favor after doc.u.menting what Viktor considered 'malicious lies.' Of course,” she added bitterly, ”that means he was probably telling the truth.”

She threw the Land Rover into reverse and hit the gas. The stolen SUV roared out of the garage in reverse, then expertly spun around on the icy pavement. Michael was thrown back against his seat and thanked G.o.d for his seat belt. Not for the first time, he wondered why he kept getting into cars with Selene. The Rover peeled out of the mining complex and took off into the night. Their headlights cut through the wintry darkness. Selene s.h.i.+fted gears and put the pedal to the metal. A sudden burst of acceleration sent them rocketing down the remote mountain road. It was no longer snowing, but there was still plenty of white stuff all around. Michael couldn't see any other vehicles ahead or behind them. They seemed to have the road all to themselves.

”He was exiled over three hundred years ago,” she continued, keeping her eye on the road.

”Three hundred years?” Michael still had trouble grasping the huge spans of time in which Selene and the other immortals seemed to operate. ”What makes you think we're going to find him now?”

She shot him a look. ”I was the one who exiled him.”

Deep within the slimy drainage tunnel, Marcus sensed the sun go down. His wings were wrapped around him like those of a sleeping bat. They were strong and flexible once more, restored to health by the day's long slumber. His black eyes opened and he flexed his deadly talons. All the scars and bruises he had received in this morning's clashes were long since healed. He felt stronger and more vigorous than ever.

At last! he thought. His daylong repose in the fetid tunnel had tried his patience, but now he need wait no longer. The golden pendant shone brightly in his memory, sharpening his resolve. Hatred flared within his heart as he recalled how Selene and Michael had dared to come between him and his prize. They would pay with their lives for their impertinence. Before the sun sets once more, he vowed, they will be punished...and the key will be mine.

He had waited eight centuries already. He could not wait another night more.

His wings rustled like dry leaves as he crept toward the mouth of the tunnel....

They headed east, higher into the hills.

The Land Rover thundered through a remote canyon. Towering walls of granite loomed above the road on both sides, all but blocking out the moonlit sky. Michael hadn't seen a service station, telephone pole, or any other sign of human habitation for over an hour. That's it, he thought, we're officially in the middle of nowhere.

Selene had spoken little during the long drive. Michael could tell she was deeply disturbed by this latest revelation, whatever it might mean. As if her whole life hadn't been turned upside down already! He couldn't begin to guess how her past could possibly be connected to Sonja's pendant. The disgraced princess had died, and Lucian had stolen the pendant, years before Viktor had turned Selene into a vampire. By then, Sonja's very existence had been stricken from the history of the coven, never to be spoken of again. Michael remembered Selene telling him that the Elders had forbidden the other vampires from probing too deeply into the past.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, he thought, that a pack of vampires has a whole bunch of skeletons in their closet.

He looked at Selene with concern. After their intimacy earlier, he had hoped that she would be quicker to open to him when she was going through a rough time. He wanted to be there for her, especially at moments like this. Give her time, he told himself. This is all pretty new for her.

The Rover came tearing around a bend and into a valley. ”Whoa!” Michael said as an impressive stone structure came into view. Shaped like a monumental Celtic cross, with granite crossbeams the size of Neolithic monoliths, the breathtaking edifice had literally been carved into the face of a craggy hill. Cracked stone and faded marble mosaics hinted at centuries of neglect. A primitive wooden gate guarded the barren grounds in front of the giant cross. Michael didn't spot any sort of lights either inside or outside the structure. The only illumination came from the Rover's headlights, and the full moon waxing overhead.

”Looks like a monastery,” he guessed.

”It used to be,” Selene confirmed. ”More like a prison now. Tanis has been hiding here since Viktor's decree. We may be the first people he's seen in centuries.”

The blonde was Olga. The brunette was Grushenka.

Or perhaps it was the other way around.

Happily smothered between the two sumptuous female vampires, Andreas Tanis wasn't worried about keeping the women's names straight. He had more important matters to occupy him right now, such as their lush b.r.e.a.s.t.s, smooth thighs, and delectable rumps. Enmeshed in a tangle of naked flesh, he barely knew what to grope or suckle first.

Choices, choices...

The monastery's capacious wine cellar had been transformed into an opulent love nest. Faded mosaics looked down on a sprawling bed liberally strewn with expensive sheets and cus.h.i.+ons. A profusion of candles cast flickering shadows over the threesome cavorting on the bed. Elegant tapestries were draped over the venerable stone walls. Corinthian columns supported the vaulted ceiling. Antique furniture had replaced the absent wine racks. Bookshelves sagged beneath the weight of numerous dusty tomes. Bartok's String Quartet No. 1 played softly over a concealed sound system. Discarded clothing littered the floor. Life-size marble statues of departed saints occupied recessed nooks in the far corners of the cellar. Their sculpted eyes gazed voyeuristically at the orgy taking place only a few yards away.

Kneeling upon the bed, Tanis was sandwiched between his avid lovers. The brunette (Grushenka?) pressed her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his back, her moist lips cool against his throat, while he embraced the blonde in front of him. He fondled the blonde's succulent a.s.s with both hands, even as the brunette reached around him to toy with the other woman's left breast. Busy fingers teased the straining nipple. The blonde arched her back in delight.

Blood flowed between them in a continuous three-way circuit. The brunette drank from Tanis's neck, while he lapped at the pulsing throat of the blonde, who fed in turn from the brunette's left wrist. Ecstatic groans and whimpers mixed with wet, sucking noises. Tanis gulped down the blonde's cold blood with abandon, relis.h.i.+ng the salty taste of the delicious nectar. His tongue swirled the plasma around the inside of his mouth. For all he knew, it might very well be his own blood, returning to him via the throbbing veins of the two vampire women. His eyes eagerly devoured the sight of the blond beauty l.u.s.tily sucking on the brunette's arm. Her wanton desire inflamed his own.

Drink your fill! he silently urged her. There's enough for all!

Gasping in pleasure, Tanis withdrew his fangs from the blonde's neck. He savored the sensation of the brunette nuzzling his neck, her insistent tongue digging into the open bite, even as the blonde's clever hands slowly stroked his engorged c.o.c.k. His face was flushed with borrowed blood. His luminous blue eyes were dreamy and unfocused, like a drug addict's. He took a deep breath, inhaling the pungent aroma of blood and s.e.x. His senses were awash in sybaritic excess. Nothing existed anymore except the banquet of nubile flesh enveloping him on all sides. His entire world had been distilled down into the naked limbs wrapped around him and the hungry mouths swallowing him whole.

He licked his lips, then dived back down for more, this time sinking his teeth into the blonde's upturned breast.

Selene drove the Land Rover up to the locked wooden gate. Aside from the snow, the former monastery looked much as she remembered. ”Take the wheel,” she instructed Michael as she handed him one of her Berettas. She kept the other pistol for herself as she hopped out of the SUV. Multiple rounds of silver ammunition had done little to deter Marcus before, but she still felt better with a gun in her hand.

Besides, it was always possible that Tanis bore a grudge.

A rusty padlock sealed the gate. Selene crushed the lock in her fist, then pushed the ma.s.sive oak doors open. Her lithe figure was silhouetted by the Rover's headlights as she marched through the gate, carrying the gun. Michael slowly followed her in the SUV, its wheels rolling over the b.u.mpy terrain. The Rover's high beams lit the way before her.

The monastery grounds were a frozen wasteland. Brown weeds and granite outcroppings sprouted from the rocky soil. A fresh layer of snow blanketed the ground and boulders. No footprints had soiled the pristine whiteness. In theory, no one besides Tanis had walked these grounds for generations. Selene imagined he would be greatly surprised to receive visitors after all these years. I wonder, what's he been doing to pa.s.s the time?

She listened carefully for the telltale rustle of Marcus's wings, but detected no trace of the mutated Elder's presence. BEWARE OF DOGS read a faded metal sign in Russian posted to one of the gateposts, yet no indignant barks or growls greeted her arrival. All she heard was the wind whistling through the dying weeds. The desolate courtyard was as quiet as a graveyard.

Stepping toward the monastery itself, she failed to notice the electric eye beam in her path.

Beep!

The strident alarm jolted Tanis from his delirious rapture beneath Olga and Grushenka. A supple breast slipped from his mouth as he lifted his head in alarm. The mood abruptly broken, he shoved his lovers aside. The blonde yelped as she tumbled off the bed onto the cold stone floor. ”Wait!” the brunette protested. Fresh blood was smeared all over her pouty lips. ”Come back!”

He ignored his lovers' cries. Fear instantly snuffed out his ardor. Who is it? he fretted anxiously. Has the coven learned of my recent illicit activities? He shuddered at the thought. Or have the d.a.m.n lycans betrayed me after all?

s.n.a.t.c.hing up a brocaded silk dressing gown from the floor, he hurried over to the security monitor on the southern wall. The mounted video screen clashed sharply with the cellar's antique furnis.h.i.+ngs. He silenced the alarm with the push of a b.u.t.ton, then stared at the monitor. His eyes widened as, to his dismay, he immediately recognized the silhouetted figure walking ahead of a slow-moving vehicle.

”s.h.i.+t!”

She faced the mammoth stone cross, which loomed impressively before her. Thankfully, the idea that vampires were repelled by crosses was nothing but a foolish mortal myth, as was the notion that they required an invitation to enter another's domicile. What nonsense, she thought as she approached a heavy wooden door built into the base of the cross. She didn't intend to ask for Tanis's permission.

Another padlock guarded the door. She reached for the lock, only to be interrupted by a faint metallic rumbling whose origin she could not immediately place. Her muscles tensed beneath the skintight leather and she raised the Beretta. Senses on edge, she turned around to look behind her...as a trapdoor suddenly opened beneath her feet.

Gravity seized her and she plummeted at least sixty feet onto a hard stone floor. A mortal would have broken a limb or two, but Selene managed to land more or less nimbly, ending up in a squatting position upon the floor. The trapdoor snapped shut above her, stranding her in some sort of subterranean catacomb beneath the monastery. Flickers of candlelight permeated the tunnel from deeper within the underground chambers.

Tricky, she thought with grudging admiration. Tanis had clearly not been idle during his long confinement. Picking herself up, she looked around. The trapdoor was a long, steep climb above her; she could barely see the top of the shaft. A dead end was at her back. The best way out seemed to be straight ahead.

An ominous growl sent her adrenaline racing. She knew a werewolf when she heard one. The growling grew louder as it hurried toward her. She reached for her gun, but...

”Selene!”