Carpathian 16 - Dark Demon

covering down. Bright light spilled into the room through the glass of the French doors.
    Instant agony seized her, abruptly cut off. She deflected another blow, her feet dancing in an age-old pattern, whirling and slicing as she glanced toward Vikirnoff. She could feel the light eating at her flesh, burning her eyes, but it had to be a million times worse for him.
    Cursing, she abandoned her plan and fought her way back to his side. Inwardly she damned herself for a fool. The shadow warrior gained strength with every moment while she grew weary. The hunter was going to die anyway. She was dumb, dumb, dumb, to keep fighting for his life.
    Her sword whistled through empty space when she should have decapitated the warrior.
    His answering blade narrowly missed her waist and jarred her arm when she deflected it.
    She grabbed the quilt with one hand and yanked it over Vikirnoff's body to cover him completely.
    The shadow warrior went after the movement of the quilt, drawn by the scent of the hunter. The deadly sword thrust into the quilt and a fountain of blood erupted. Natalya's breath hissed out in fury from between her clenched teeth. She lunged at the warrior, trying to drive him back with her shoulder, but she fell through his body, staggering to keep her balance and whirling to face him.
    Stop your heart and lungs ! It was a demand, accompanied by a strong push of compulsion at Vikirnoff. Her fear for Vikirnoff amounted to terror. She slammed her sword again and again against the warrior's, preventing his renewed attack on the hunter.
    Her heart sank. They were both dead. She'd killed them with her confidence. What had she been thinking? She knew the effects of sunlight on the Carpathian race. Blisters were forming on her skin. She knew Vikirnoff would be fried even with the small exposure he'd suffered. And all the while her strength was draining. She couldn't fight the shadow warrior forever.
    You need the door opened . With every ounce of his last remaining strength, Vikirnoff used telekinetic power to undo the safeguards and the locks to thrust the balcony door wide open. Your plan is a good one. A warrior's luck to you.
    She recognized the words from somewhere as a formal ritual between hunters. Somehow the words calmed her mind and allowed her to think clearly again. She began a graceful, spiraling attack, constantly in motion, drawing the shadow warrior across the room, away from Vikirnoff and towards the open door. Her voice began a soft murmur as she drew on her legacy, the powers of earth, wind and spirit. She needed luck, more than luck. She needed a miracle.
    "Hear me now, dark one, great warrior torn from your resting place, while I call on earth, wind, fire, water, and spirit."
    The shadow warrior lowered his sword and was still for the first time since he had been revealed to her.
    "I call each to me and bind them to me and with them, I invoke the right of shadow law.
    The dark mage's blood runs in me. Heed what I say. I command the wind"—she flung her arms into the air and brought the wind howling into the room—"to come to me, to carry my warrior home."
    The shadow warrior remained standing, sword at ready, his glowing eyes fixed on Vikirnoff. Well, at least she had his attention. She knew spells, thousands of them. She just had to come up with the right combination.
    She faced the warrior and seemed to grow in stature. Her hair crackled with electricity as she lifted her arms toward the shadowy figure. Most things were bound by blood. She could do this if she just thought it through. "By shadow law, through ancient's blood, I claim my right by mage's blood."
    The warrior jerked as if she'd struck him. His fiery eyes shifted from the bed and focused completely on her. Natalya's heart rate increased dramatically. She wanted his attention, but he was intimidating. Her hand tightened around her sword as she sorted through ancient spells for words that might release him. "That which was brought forth, I now return, by power of air and fire that burns."
    The wind increased, tugging at the gray smoke that made up the shadow warrior's form.
    The flames in the eyes leapt and burned, so that sparks actually flickered in the swirling smoke. The sight was terrifying.
    It is working . Vikirnoff, holding the merge, saw her brain functioning at high speed, sorting and discarding spells, turning words over and over in her mind, rearranging them and putting them together. He was astonished and awed by her