Carpathian 16 - Dark Demon

you ever watch television? The Creature front the Black Lagoon is a classic. A must-see movie right up there with King Kong and Godzilla . You had to have watched them." When he looked blank, she sighed. "A scientist becomes this mutant creature and lives in the lagoon…" She trailed off. "Never mind, but we have to work on educating you about movies. You're missing some great stuff. It's education . How do you think I learned about vampires?"
    Vikirnoff shook his head. "I do not even want to know."
    " Movies , of course. I've decided I'm going into the film business. I can make great vampire films." She took her first step onto the thin layer of earth that stretched over the waters of the bog. "These mountains make a perfect setting, with the way the wind can't reach certain areas and blasts others, and how the fog lies in so thick, not to mention all the bogs and ice caves."
    "I think it's been done," he answered. His voice was husky and she glanced at him sharply.
    Vikirnoff's heart beat in his throat as he watched her following in her father's precise footsteps, a pattern they had both memorized. It didn't matter that she was so careful and light on her feet, almost gliding as she placed her feet on the tufts of grass, he was afraid for her. Fear took on an entirely new meaning when it was for a loved one.
    Love . He tasted the word—tried it out tentatively. How did one equate the terrible, overwhelming emotion that had somehow crept up on him with that small word? Did he feel this way because she was his lifemate? Or because of who she was? What she was? He couldn't image wanting a woman without her penchant for late night movies. And as exasperating as it could be, when she didn't have a sassy, smart comment to make, it worried him. Was it love to wake up thinking of her before anything else? For centuries hunger had been his every waking thought and yet now, even that had taken a back seat.
    Natalya paused staring down at the two small blocks of grass, side by side, both looking as if they were solid. "Look at this, Vik, does this look the same? I don't remember two patches so close to one another."

    He swore under his breath as he took to the air and hovered just above her. There had not been two patches so close together. Over time, the bog had changed, plants growing, multiplying, and dying off naturally. Natalya was risking stepping into a sinkhole by following the pattern her father had provided. "We could try finding the last step and I could carry you to that spot."
    Natalya shook her head, glancing at him sharply. "The pattern is part of the safeguard."
    Vikirnoff was ashamed of himself. He had known the steps were important, just as she did, but as she got deeper into the bog, his uneasiness grew stronger. He was well aware of the weather patterns in the Carpathian Mountains, of the places where there was a lack of wind and the fog hung for weeks on end. He knew there was fire and ice beneath the mountains and that many oddities were really natural and not made by either Carpathian or vampire, yet the stillness in the valley was oppressive to him and the stagnant water, so naturally the color of old blood had become sinister.
    "I do not feel easy about this, Natalya."
    Her eyebrow shot up. "You aren't helping. I'm trying to remember if he stepped forward with his left foot or with his right."
    "His left." The answer came out of his memory, minute details recorded automatically without thought. "He switched leads."
    She flashed a grin at him as she wiped beads of sweat from her face. "You might be useful after all." She pointed toward the edge of the bog. "Wait over there. I don't want you hovering over me, making me nervous." She waited until he complied before leading with her left foot.
    Vikirnoff folded his arms across his chest, assuming his expressionless mask. "It is good to know you are finally coming to the conclusion that I am useful." His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white and his muscles began to ache from the terrible tension that continued to rise in his gut.
    In the forest behind them the trees started to sway gently, almost imperceptible at first, but Vikirnoff's acute hearing picked up the rustle of the pine needles and he swung around alertly. There was a little moonlight shining through the woods and the branches were illuminated in a ghostly silver. The needles appeared more like skinny fingers with sharp nails reaching out toward the bog. The ripple of unease