She knew if she’d stayed close to Andor, the ceiling he had raised to prevent Jannik Astor from escaping via air would have protected her. It was a hard lesson. Her head hurt so bad she wanted to vomit. Instead, she tried to find the vampire in the dark. The crows returned to the trees so she turned off the flamethrower and ran back to the safety of her lifemate.
“O jelä peje terád, emni,” Andor said aloud. “Sun scorch you, woman,” he repeated in English. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I wanted to keep that thing off you until you killed the other one.”
He was silent a moment, moving first one way and then the other. “Thank you, Lorraine. We will work on our teamwork at a later date. You have done very well. Are you injured?”
She realized he hadn’t seen the back of her head. “One of those birds pecked me, but otherwise, I’m okay.” She was going to have to sit down very soon. The pain made her dizzy. “Do you still want me to sit between the parents and the children out of your way?” She kept her voice very meek, hoping he would attribute her sudden cooperation to her making a mistake and not weakness.
“Get down,” Andor called and dove past her.
Lorraine obeyed, not looking to see the danger. She’d discovered that by the time she looked to see what was wrong, it was already too late. Reacting was far better. Vampires and Carpathians moved far too quickly. She squeezed her eyes closed briefly, trying to breathe through the pain from the laceration in her scalp. When she opened her eyes, she was looking at her lifemate.
She’d watched countless tournaments, men and woman who fought, their bodies fluid and well-trained. Athletes, every one of them. Andor moved in a completely different realm of athleticism. Every muscle in his body performed to its greatest potential. There was no fear when the monster came at him, all teeth and raking claws, nails the size of a grizzly’s. There was no hesitation in him.
He went straight at the creature and then, at the very last possible second, whirled to one side and sliced through the chest with a casual sweep of his hand. She closed her eyes again as black blood dripped to the ground, smoking where it hit, the little drops of acid containing several wiggling worms.
Lorraine opened her eyes again and there was more of the black blood on the ground, this time from a stroke around the throat. She knew what he was doing, weakening his opponent. All fighters knew the technique. The difference was, he was so casual about it, as if he was merely dancing, rather than in a life-or-death fight. His feet glided smoothly, his body appeared at ease. There was no tension. No strain.
Andor suddenly struck with one hand and whirled around, slamming his fist deep into the vampire’s chest. She would never get over that sight—a hunter’s arm buried deep in a chest, black blood pouring over his skin, burning it, dripping to the ground. She would never forget the sound, a terrible sucking noise as he extracted the blackened, wizened organ, clutching it in his fist, fingers closed tightly around it while that black blood dripped. Then there was the sound of the vampire screaming, the shriek hurting her ears as Andor tossed the heart onto the ground and a blazing lash of lightning incinerated it and then jumped to the still writhing vampire.
Andor turned back toward her. We have to wipe the memories from the minds of these humans and heal any wounds on them before we leave.
* * *
Last child secure. The phrase to remove him from the safety circle is “Curious George likes his bike.”
Ferro had waited for what seemed forever to hear those words. He had already found the place the master vampire had hidden. The forest was cool and should have felt fresh. Instead, the air was heavy and unnaturally silent. There were no cicadas making their music. No lizards or mice scurrying in the leaves. Animals had fled the area. He hadn’t found one within the three-mile circumference he’d scanned. An abomination was close.
He stayed very still, waiting for one mistake. Eventually, the master vampire, depending on his age, would make one. Right now, Ferro had narrowed his search to a small group of trees. Leaves seemed wilted. An abundance of needles had dropped. Black sap ran down three of the trees, and one trunk was split. All of those things indicated an abomination of nature was close, or had been there.
He studied the split trunk carefully. It was very possible the master vampire had hidden himself in the tree, but his presence had cracked the trunk before he wanted to emerge so he’d left that one open and dying. There was an abundance of insects crawling on the tree closest to it and also along the roots that were bare along the ground. Several of the tree roots looped naturally up into the air. Even in the dark, Ferro could see without hindrance, and there was movement in those roots.
The hunter shifted the wind minutely, just enough so that the turn wouldn’t be noticed as anything but natural. He shifted into mere molecules floating on the breeze, allowing it to carry him close to the suspect tree. As he neared his destination, he could see the dark hole at the base of the tree. A wild boar had dug, exposing the roots and feasting on some of them. Inside the hole was a mound of black, stinging insects that were no more natural than the sap running along two of cracked limbs overhead.
He moved into position. For centuries, the inside of trees was often a favorite spot for a master vampire to hide while he sacrificed his pawns to a hunter. Ferro had seen it too many times. He had also seen traps the master vampire set up, one such as this, cleverly done, where the hunter would believe the undead was in one tree, when in fact, he was in another.
Ferro waited, seeing with more than his eyes. He was a dangerous fighter, much more so than any other hunter he had encountered, and his brethren were the best among them. He wanted the fight over as soon as possible. If he lingered, the nothingness inside him always yawned wide, threatening to engulf him.
“Muonìak te avoisz te—I command you to reveal yourself.” He spoke in the ancient language, words of great power. Those words rarely worked on a master unless the hunter uttering them was far more powerful. All those who had locked themselves away in the monastery held such power.
The master vampire emerged slowly from the split tree, right where Ferro had positioned himself, guessing correctly that the other trees had been set as a trap. Suddenly he rushed Ferro. The vampire would have done much better had he simply kept to his slow pace when he emerged from the tree. Coming so fast allowed Ferro to slam his fist home using the momentum from the undead’s attack. His fingers settled around the heart while the master vampire hissed and roared, fighting like a madman, tearing at Ferro’s face and chest.
Ferro felt nothing at all. Nothing. The vampire tore at his belly and chewed at his neck. Ferro didn’t relent. Not when those teeth sank deep and tore chunks of flesh. Not when the undead ripped through his chest to get his own heart. He had cut himself off from the others, especially Lorraine with her shining light. He couldn’t afford to have her in his mind while he fought—and yet cutting himself off made the torment of nothingness far worse.
He extracted the heart and tossed it a distance from the vampire, keeping the creature locked to him while he summoned lightning. He took his time incinerating the heart as well as the undead and then cleaning the acid blood from his body. He spent more time destroying the insects the master vampire had created and then healing the trees and shrubbery, restoring as much of the damaged forest as possible, wanting it clean and untainted for any inhabitants.
* * *
“Isai is ready for travel,” Gary said. “I healed the oldest boy and brought him back. Have you examined the others for wounds?” He was very pale.
Sandu immediately offered him his wrist. “Take what I offer freely.”
Gary’s sharp eyes moved over him before he bent his head to accept the offering.
“All of them are healed,” Andor assured. “Dragomir is removing their memories now. I restored their campsite and removed all signs of vampires from the area. The land will regr
ow without a problem. One of the crows slashed a nasty gash into the back of Lorraine’s head. I would ask that you take a look at it. The others offered to heal it, but something about it disturbs me.” Andor couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she had been specifically targeted.
“I looked,” Dragomir added, “but wasn’t certain what I was looking for. It looks like a laceration to me.”
“Perhaps the healer should wait until we are safely within the compound,” Ferro suggested. “He is already weak, and we need him at full strength. Andor and Isai are both in need of his skills.”
They weren’t the only ones, Andor decided, looking at Ferro, but he wasn’t going to say so. A vampire could do a tremendous amount of damage in a very little time.
“We have done all we can do here,” Dragomir agreed. “We need to get back to the two human traitors and make our way home.”
Andor wasn’t certain where home was, unless it was wherever Lorraine wanted to be. He took her hand and they walked with the others back to where they had left Adam and Herman.
The two human psychic males both sat with their backs to a tree just where they were left. Where before they had been bound without rope, now they had barbwire wrapped around their arms, shoulders and torsos. It was pulled so tight the barbs were embedded deep in their skin. That wasn’t the worst. Crows sat on their bodies, pecking at them so that neither had eyes and there were holes in their faces and torn into their chests.
Andor turned Lorraine into him, hiding her face. “It is best not to look.” He lifted his gaze to the others. “These two knew something we missed. Something Sergey did not want us to find.” As he spoke he led Lorraine away from the men, careful to keep her from seeing. She didn’t try to fight him, which he was grateful for. He didn’t want to ever force her compliance, but in this instance, he would have.
“We are missing something extremely important,” Ferro agreed. “Sergey sacrificed a lot here today, and there has to be a reason. He lost four very good fighters, vampires with good chances against anyone but the eight coming out of the monastery and Gary. There were too many of us here. He lost a master vampire as well.”
“I cannot hope to understand Sergey Malinov,” Sandu said with a small shrug. “Nor do I want to understand him and his reasons. I just want him dead.”
“Let us go now,” Dragomir added, glancing up at the sky.
The crows had lifted into the air when they got close, settled like silent, dark wraiths on the tree branches above them. Ferro flicked his hand toward them, and several burst into flames. The others took to the sky and raced away.
12
Tariq Asenguard leaned across the table, a slight frown on his face. “You should be in the ground healing, Andor, not sitting in on this meeting. Dragomir can represent you. The fact that you’re alive is a miracle, and all of us know that. Your woman must be . . . extraordinary in order to pull you back from the dead.”
Lorraine swallowed hard and dug her fingers into Andor’s thigh. He pressed his hand over hers to give her reassurance. They were both concerned. Worried. So were all the other brethren who had been with them.
“Gary and the others did the work,” Lorraine offered.
“Just the fact that all three of them bound themselves to you makes you extraordinary,” Tariq said.
Andor couldn’t help the flash of pride he felt in Lorraine. She was an amazing lifemate. She’d stood with him during attack after attack of vampire and puppets.
“It makes no sense that Sergey sent so many of his pawns after us,” Andor said. “At first maybe, when he knew I was mortally wounded and there was only a human woman to fight them off, but after? Three ancients from the monastery and a Daratrazanoff. Even if he didn’t know who they were, he would have recognized the way we moved and Gary’s features. It is unmistakable. We have to know why he was willing to sacrifice so many.”
“Do any of you have any ideas?” Tariq asked.
Gary stood behind Andor and Lorraine, his fingers pushing aside her hair to examine the laceration the crow had ripped so deep in her scalp. He didn’t respond, not even when Andor glanced at him.
“None of us know,” Sandu said. “But he killed the two human males we were bringing back to the compound. They were aware of something he did not want us to know. We should have taken more time examining them, but we were trying to get back here and do everything in the safety of the compound. We knew he was biting at our heels.”
“We also believe he is turning psychic males to build his army,” Ferro said, his voice grim.
Tariq sank back in his chair. “They would have no battle experience.”
“They did not,” Dragomir said. “At. All. They were obviously newly made. They were given very rudimentary skills and sent out against ancients. Sergey knew they would all die, but he still sent them.”
“If he sent human psychic males, newly turned, he was not having to sacrifice his vampires, the ones with less battle experience, but still valuable,” Tariq mused. “That would make sense. He has to be running out of men and he can’t keep throwing them at us and watching them all fall.”
“Exactly,” Andor said. “I can see him sacrificing the six newly made vampires. But the others? There were four that would have been good soldiers, and a master vampire. The five of them could have cost us had they been up against others not so battle-worn or if they came across one of us alone. I took on seven of his men. He knew we were skilled and yet he kept coming at us, even after the other brethren joined Lorraine and me.”
“Gary?” Tariq asked.
The room went quiet. Around the table were the other Carpathian hunters. Maksim, Tariq’s partner in the nightclub business. The triplets, Tomas, Matias and Lojos, renowned for their fighting skills. Dragomir and Sandu and Benedek and Petru, all brethren from the monastery. Isai and Ferro were deep beneath the soil in the healing grounds. Nicu Dalca, an ancient who moved like lightning. Valentin Zhestokly, his eyes as black as ice in a violent storm, sat quietly across from Tariq and with him, Afanasiv Balan, an ancient who was considered extremely dangerous by those at the table.
Gary straightened and shook his head. “The wound is deep and vicious. I should have taken the time to heal this before we took to the air.”
Lorraine shook her head and then winced. “You had already spent time on Isai,” she pointed out. “We all just wanted to get here before Sergey sent more after us.”
Andor pressed her palm deeper into his thigh, feeling her tremble. The brethren hadn’t cared about getting there fast, other than to get Lorraine to safety. They lived to hunt. He had done so as well, for so many centuries. Now, he lived for his woman. He had blocked the pain for her, so she felt no discomfort.
“Lorraine, I will have to heal this from the inside,” Gary said. “Maksim and Sandu, I could use your help.”
Andor knew what that meant. Gary was going to try to find anything that the bird might have planted in her before they were put in the healing grounds. The fact that he had requested Sandu and Maksim meant he was as concerned as they were. Andor wanted to be the one to make absolutely certain nothing evil had touched Lorraine, but the fact remained, he needed healing himself.
“Rather than Sandu,” Tariq said, “I will aid you.”
Gary shook his head. If something was planted that could possibly attack one or all of us, you cannot be in the line of fire.
Tariq all but ground his teeth, but he didn’t argue. Andor knew he could never be in Tariq’s shoes. The man had been a hunter for centuries. Now, he was the one they all protected, kept behind a wall of warriors in order that he lead. Andor understood it was necessary, and he knew Tariq did as well, but it didn’t make the transition any easier.
Gary didn’t wait, but shed his body. Maksim and Sandu did as well. Lorraine held herself very still. They all felt the way she steeled herself. She wasn’t Carpathian and this
method of healing was new to her. Having others inside her body, moving through her with only the white heat of their healing spirits, had to be frightening for her.
I am with you, Lorraine, he assured.
As am I, Sandu and Gary echoed.
Gary divided the work into three sections. Her arteries and veins, the blood supply running through her body. That was Maksim’s territory. Sandu took the organs. It was Gary’s job to look at the brain. The problem was whatever the crow might have injected into Lorraine could be so tiny that no one could spot it. It could be anywhere, even a sliver along her bones. A tiny foreign object was difficult at best. With someone like Sergey planting it, it might be impossible to find.
Sandu was meticulous, and Andor monitored all three the entire time. He didn’t want any part of the master vampire in his woman. He was certain if Sergey had left behind a splinter of himself, Gary would find it. That was what they all feared the most. Vadim had been adept at splintering. It was a dangerous practice, because if that splinter was found and destroyed, a part of the person leaving it behind was destroyed as well.
Time passed slowly, no one speaking in the conference room. Sandu emerged first, looking exhausted and pale. At once, Benedek was there, offering him his wrist and murmuring the ritual words to him. I offer freely. It was an age-old ritual, meaning one life for another if necessary.
Maksim and Gary returned to their bodies at the same time. Gary looked strained, as if he was stretched thin from all the healing he had been forced to do in the last few days. Andor knew that besides Isai, the healer had also attended everyone’s wounds, including Ferro’s. Once back at the compound, he had worked on Andor again.
“Your verdict?” Tariq said.
All three shook their heads. “She appears to be clean of anything Sergey’s servants may have left behind,” Gary said.
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