Carpathian 08 - Dark Legend

up where graves were being opened and the caskets removed to make way for progress. He shook his head at the way of life. A hundred years ago no one would consider disturbing a grave site in such a manner. It would be sacrilegious. Evil stalked Paris, and it slept within this ancient cemetery that held the bodies of so many of the dead.
    As he moved through the graveyard like a silent wraith, he thought of that long-ago battle, nearly two centuries ago. He had found Lucian crouched over his latest victim, a man in his early thirties. The victim had been drained of blood, a lifeless rag doll that Lucian had tossed carelessly down on the ground when he turned to confront Gabriel. As always, Gabriel was struck by his twin's elegance, the way he moved so silently. There was never a stain of blood on his clothing or his teeth or nails. He was always immaculate. Nothing about him seemed different, yet he was a terrible monster, not the legendary hunter their people whispered about.
    Just the memory of his brother, tall and elegant and so courtly, sent a wave of love through Gabriel. He had not felt it for so long, only remembered the emotion, but now it was stronger and more intense than ever. Gabriel bowed his head. Lucian. His brother. The grief was overwhelming him and he shook his head decisively to clear it. That way lay his own destruction. His mind had to be clear and fixed on the hunt. He needed every advantage ferreting out the evil undead. They were here in force.
    A grave caught his eye. He turned back to examine it. Freshly dug, it was one of the newest in the cemetery. The heavy equipment had not reached this corner so near the rock wall. He touched the soil and at once felt the vibrations of destructive forces. So tuned, he snatched his hand away. The earth itself was groaning from the touch of the vile abomination. He remained hunkered down, his eyes casting along the floor of the cemetery even as his senses flared out to scan the region around him.
    Gabriel sighed. He heard the soft shuffle of boots in the dirt, the heavy breathing of the ghoul a vampire had created. Dangerous creatures, ghouls lived to serve their masters, feasting on tainted blood and the flesh of humans. They were vicious and without mercy. He waited, his power building and building, gathering until it flowed through him and poured out into the air around him.
    The ghoul approached from behind, shuffling closer, an evil being, clumsy but very cunning and impossibly strong. A human being would be in grave danger should he meet with a minion of the vampire. Gabriel was one of the ancients, powerful and far too experienced to give the ghoul much thought. As the grotesque creature closed the distance between them, Gabriel whirled around, caught the misshapen head between his hands and jerked hard enough to break the neck. The crack was loud in the silence of the night. The monster wailed loudly, flailing its arms, but Gabriel had melted away, his speed far too great for the macabre puppet.
    The ghoul was shrieking in a brutal animal rage of pain and anger. It moved with jerky steps, swinging its body this way and that, searching for Gabriel, searching as it had been programmed. Its head flopped at a sickly angle, and the creature drooled continuously. Gabriel materialized in front of it, plunged his hand deep within the chest cavity, and removed the already dead heart. At once lightning slammed to the ground, incinerating the body to a fine ash. Gabriel flung the putrefied organ into the blue-white streak and turned away, shaking his head at the horror of the long-dead creature.
    He felt their presence long before he saw them. Three vampires were moving silently toward him, gliding through the air so that their feet didn't touch the surface of the earth. He inhaled the stench of their foul, poisonous bodies. He turned slowly to face them. They were older than he would have liked and powerful.
    "Come to me, then," he said softly. "I will give you the dark death that will free you from your chosen path."
    Brice sat up when Francesca called his name softly. Raking a hand through his hair, he regarded her with speculative eyes. "Francesca. I didn't expect to see you tonight." He got to his feet and smoothed his rumpled clothes.
    Francesca noticed his clothes were stained. Always before, he was immaculate and meticulous in his appearance. This shocked her. There was even a faint shadow of a beard, something Brice had abhorred in the past. He was