Bound by Night (Page 56)

Rising, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and went downstairs.

Stefan was waiting for her in the main hall.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

“You were driving yourself crazy. I thought I would save you a few hours of worry.”

“Oh. Thank you. I think.”

“It will be over soon.”

“Where will they fight?”

“There is a clearing below the Fortress. They will meet there at midnight, with their seconds.”

“Just the four of them?”

“No. There will be four other vampires, summoned from other Fortresses, who will serve as witnesses.”

“So, it’s outside?”

“Yes.”

“Take me there.”

“No.”

Grasping his shirt in both hands, she shook him as hard as she could. It was like trying to move a mountain. “You have to take me! Drake needs me. I know it! Please, Stefan.”

“Dammit, Elena, do you know what he will do to me if anything happens to you?”

“Do you know what will happen to me without him?”

Stefan swore long and loud. Not all of it was in English, but some words sounded the same in any language, and she knew she had him.

He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace for a moment, then turned to face her. “All right,” he said. “I will take you. But you will have to stay out of sight. And after he kills me, I expect you to put flowers on my grave.”

“I promise.”

Moving quicker than her eye could follow, he wrapped her in his arms. “Hang on tight, Mrs. Sherrad,” he whispered in her ear, and then he swore again. “I know I am going to regret this.”

Elena closed her eyes as a familiar feeling of dizziness and nausea swept over her. There was the sense of flying through time, of freewheeling through space, and then nothing. When she opened her eyes, she was standing under a tree, wrapped in Stefan’s arms.

He smiled down at her. “You know,” he said, hugging her closer, “I could get used to this.”

“What?” She looked up at him, her thoughts obviously elsewhere.

“Nothing.” He pointed up the mountain. “Look.”

At first, Elena didn’t see anything. But, gradually, she saw flickering lights moving down the side of the mountain, slowly growing larger, brighter, until she could make out four vampires carrying torches. Behind them, coming single-file, she saw Rodin and Drake, and following them, two other vampires she didn’t recognize. All eight wore long black cloaks. And then, trailing far behind, she saw another dark shape that cut away from the group and quickly disappeared into the trees.

“Do not move.” Stefan whispered the words. “Try not to breathe.”

“Did you see the other vampire?”

Stefan nodded. “It was Liliana. She is not supposed to be here, either.”

Elena wrapped her arms around her waist. What if Liliana had seen them? Well, said a little voice in the back of her mind, what if she had? She couldn’t say anything without incriminating herself. That knowledge should have been comforting, but it wasn’t.

The vampires in the clearing were moving, spreading out. The four torchbearers formed a circle around Rodin and his opponent. In the bright silver glow of a full moon, she easily identified Drake. Taller than the others, he stood outside the circle, behind Rodin. The eighth vampire took a similar stance behind the challenger.

Rodin tossed his cloak aside and Elena saw that he wore a pair of black leather pants and boots and nothing else. His opponent was similarly attired. Each carried a sword. The long silver blades glinted in the moonlight.

Silver, Elena thought. It would make each cut doubly painful for the vampires.

One of the torchbearing vampires moved to stand between Rodin and his opponent. “Rodin Sherrad, Master of the Carpathian Fortress,” he intoned, his voice carrying clearly in the quiet. “Be it known that Gerret Lynch, Master of the Irish Fortress, has come here this night to lay down a challenge for your lands and holdings. Do you accept? Or concede?”

“I accept.”

“Florin Korzha. Drake Sherrad. You have been chosen as seconds. Come forward.”

Drake and Florin took a step forward. Drake inclined his head, and Florin did likewise.

“All those required to be in attendance are here present,” the torchbearer said solemnly. “Let whatever blood is shed this night be done with honor.” And so saying, he returned to his place in the circle.

For a moment, it was as if the vampires in the clearing were frozen in time.

Elena shivered as a low, keening wind sprang up, rattling the leaves of the trees, causing the torches to flicker erratically. She looked up at Stefan. His eyes burned red as he stared at the scene in the clearing.

Without taking her eyes from the combatants, she asked, “Why is Florin’s last name Korzha if he’s Rodin’s son?”

“Only Liliana and her children carry his surname.” Like Elena, Stefan kept his attention on Rodin and his opponent. “His other children take their mother’s maiden names.”

There was no signal given that Elena could see, but suddenly Rodin and his opponent were moving. The ring of metal against metal was very loud in the stillness of the night. As the blades met, the wind howled through the trees.

Elena shivered again. She risked a look at Drake. His hands were clenched at his sides, his face like something carved from stone.

She turned her attention back to the battle. The vampires moved so swiftly, there were times when they were little more than a blur so that she couldn’t tell one from the other.

Power shimmered through the air as sword met sword. When the scent of blood filled the air, the two vampires parted, and Elena saw that the challenger was bleeding from a long gash in his left arm.

The two combatants came together again and again.

It was like being caught up in a nightmare. The wind howling. The blood in the air. The ringing of metal striking metal. The blazing red eyes of the vampires, the light of the torches casting eerie shadows on the ground.

It seemed as if the fight would go on forever when Rodin suddenly feinted left, pivoted in a circle, and drove his sword through his opponent’s heart. The other vampire fell backward, his sword dropping from his hand. Before Gerret hit the ground, Rodin’s blade swung again, cleanly severing the challenger’s head.

Retching, Elena turned away, her arms folded over her stomach. Stefan had been right. She should have stayed home.

From behind her, someone shouted, “Stop him!”