Dark Memory – Dark Carpathians Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
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At the very top, Aura confirmed, at least with these two.

Give me a minute, and I think I can manage to do a direct strike on Mr. Meddlesome. The crystal can penetrate the guards. You weren’t guarding against light.

Aura sent her another quick grin. I think the generations gave you just a little too much sass. Vampires are very egotistical. He won’t live down whatever you do to him, and he’ll remember and come after you until he’s destroyed. The others will make fun of him relentlessly.

Isn’t that a good thing? He’ll be focused on getting me and not my family.

You will have to be very careful, Safia. We controlled this environment and defeated the beetles and demons easily because we were prepared, and she had no idea that we would be. But vampires have immense power, and when you face one, there is no room for error.

Safia had witnessed the battles Aura had shown her over and over, studying the various techniques the hunters had used to slay vampires. She studied each vampire and the way he had approached the fights with the hunters. Most preferred talking. They were vain and wanted to distract their adversary. At the same time, they wanted to talk about their exploits and be admired and feared. They used delaying tactics if they had others with them so that their pawns could circle around and get in place to attack from behind or above. Sometimes poisonous vines would shoot from beneath the ground to wrap around prey and lock them in place so the vampire could more easily strike down the hunter.

Safia had forced herself to replay the battles night after night as she grew up, watching them as one might movies, studying them from every angle. She’d had little time to watch how Petru had fought his battles with the vampires, she was just recovering those memories, but they were inside her mind, imprinted on her brain. They were her memories and were very vivid when her mind allowed them to slip through.

Petru’s technique was far different from any of the other hunter’s styles Aura had shown her. He didn’t speak. He didn’t engage at all with his enemy. He was direct, grim, like the grim reaper of death, a shocking, powerful instrument of justice clearly striking terror in his enemies. They tried to hide the fact that they feared him, but it was impossible. In the end, they almost always tried to flee.

He never retreated. It mattered little how abused his body was or even if they were close to tearing his heart out. He stood toe-to-toe with them, looking them in the eye, never so much as flinching. It was no wonder he struck terror in them. He seemed invincible, even surrounded by his enemy.

The one scratching overhead is called Bumbus. I heard the other address him. The one at the door is Larriot. He seems in charge, although Bumbus is obsessed with making his way through the ceiling and has assured Larriot that he has made progress, even though it is not so. He lied.

Shocking that he lied to his boss. Who would ever believe a vampire could lie to another vampire?

Aura laughed softly. Vampires never actually admit another one is over them, even if they are choosing to follow that vampire for a semblance of protection.

Safia frowned. Do vampires protect one another?

Not really. The newly made ones think they have protection with the older ones, but they’re used as pawns, fed to the hunters first in battle to slow the hunters down and hopefully wound them. If they lose enough blood, the vampires have a better chance at killing them. The lesser vampires mean nothing to them.

The scratching overhead became frantic. Safia allowed her senses to spread out and pinpoint the exact location. Her focus zeroed in on the vampire, allowing her to visualize him bent over, digging at the surface of the floor in the chamber above them. He continually sniffed the ground and peered into the hole he was attempting to enlarge.

She timed his next look, and as he bent to see how thin the layers were, she thrust the crystal sword upward, straight toward his eye. The red light burst in a stream through the surface directly into the orb. The fiery blaze was pure and contained sacred water held within the stream of light. The moment it touched the twisted abomination, the flames detonated outward like a starburst, spreading through the vampire’s skull.

He fell back, howling, shrieking, trying to hold his head on his shoulders as it lurched sideways off his neck. Red light poured from the holes where his ears should have been, and the gaping holes where his mouth and nose should have been. Pinpricks of red streamed from breaks in his neck and the top of his skull. Parasites poured from his body, dropping to the earth in scorched, blackened, twisted shells.


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