Taking a deep breath to restore his control, Vikirnoff lifted his head slowly and looked around him. The forest seemed to expand and grow and glitter with brilliance, even in the dark of night, as if he had taken a strong hallucinogenic. Above his head the clouds were black with wrath, edged with nickering white-hot lightning. Twisting tendrils of fog snaked through the trees and gathered along the ground.
Vikirnoff remained still, allowing his experience as a hunter to guide him, rather than following the dictates of his chaotic mind. He waited, sorting through the frenzied
sensations, waiting for calm before taking action.
All the while he savored the sound of her voice. The path leading back to her was subtle, almost too subtle to follow. It was puzzling. She was Carpathian, yet not Carpathian. She was human, yet not human. He felt the whisper of power in her voice, the subtle «push» when she tried to force obedience. She had tried to force his obedience. He took another deep breath, inhaling to take air deep into his lungs, but most of all to find her scent.
Chapter 2
Natalya swiped at the empathetic tears clouding her vision. Her heart pounded in terror, but she set her teeth grimly. She could kill Henrik and she might even best Arturo. She could even get away from the wolves, but she had just touched a being so powerful she never wanted to tangle with him. At the first touch, she thought him a hunter, one of those who had killed her twin brother and was hunting her. But his emotions had been so sad, so despairing, he'd nearly torn her heart out.
She had never experienced such a strong connection before. She hadn't meant for him to hear her protest. She had no idea how they were on the same mental path to share such intense emotions, but she didn't want to stick around to find out how it had happened. She'd never been bombarded with such an overwhelming explosion of feelings before. His feelings. Lust and possession. Elation and relief. All superceded by the overwhelming need to kill. She needed to escape fast before whatever, whomever, she had accidentally touched psychically tracked her down.
«Look who's crying now,» Henrik sneered. «I knew you were all talk.»
«That's right, Freddie boy, I like to talk,» Natalya agreed as she directed three throwing knives in rapid succession at him. Each scored a hit, burying deeply all the way to the hilt, one in the heart, one in the throat and one in the mouth. «But, as I've already said, I hate to listen to whiners.»
Henrik dropped to the ground again, howling and writhing, clawing great holes in the soil, his blood withering the vegetation in a broad circle around him.
Arturo sighed. «That wasn't nice, Natalya. He's going to be much more difficult to control. I don't want you dead and he'll insist.»
Natalya glanced into the darkened interior of the forest. So far it had just been too easy. Neither vampire was trying to kill her. Her last few encounters with the undead had been strange in that none of them seemed willing to kill her. It gave her a distinct advantage in
battle, but it boded ill for her future. She had discovered some years earlier that they were hunting her for a purpose she couldn't fathom and they were very persistent in their pursuit of her.
«I don't think you really need him, Arturo,» she said. «He's rather a pathetic fellow, don't you think?»
«But a useful sacrifice,» Arturo pointed out.
Natalya was having trouble with her vision. Colors ran together, vivid and brilliant in spite of the darkening clouds spinning around the moon. The leaves glittered silver, dazzling her eyes so that when she launched her attack at Arturo, she was slightly off in her depth perception. She couldn't afford to wait. It was obvious Arturo was using Henrik as a stall tactic, waiting for reinforcements, and she knew the hunter was coming.
Out of necessity she went for the kill, somersaulting through the air, only baring the knife concealed in her hand at the last second, as she plunged it straight for Arturo's chest. He leapt to the side, so that she sliced a long thin cut across his shoulder and arm. As she sprang past him Arturo whipped his other arm around and slammed talons into her side, raking deep.
Pain blossomed, low and deep and bone-jarring. Vikirnoff looked down, shocked to see blood seeping from a gaping wound. He pressed his hand over his side, eyes glowing a hot red, fangs bursting into his mouth. He growled low in his throat, already shifting shape, taking the form of an owl. As his muscles popped, sinews crackled, and then the pain vanished. He glanced down again and there was no blood. None. His clothes, his skin and, as he completed the change, his iridescent feathers, were immaculate.
He had thought the danger she had sensed was within him, that her resolve had been to fight him. Something else, something evil and cunning had led them both into a trap and she had paid a terrible price. If it wasn't his blood, his pain, there was only one other it could belong to. The vampire he had detected earlier wasn't between them, it had already found her. Somewhere ahead of him, his lifemate was fighting for her life.
Deep within the form of the owl, Vikirnoff threw back his head and roared with rage. He raced through the trees, powerful wings flapping hard, skimming the edge of branches, a suicide run through the dense trees. He maneuvered more by instinct than by sight, staying low in the thick canopy. He sensed the disturbance increasing and slowed to a more acceptable speed, moving the way an owl would naturally among the branches of the trees and gaining more height to spot prey.
Below him, he sighted movement, dark shapes slipping silently through the trees, sliding from one shadow to the next. The wild scent of wolf mingled with the sweet aroma of blood. Directly below was a thicket of dense shrubbery surrounded by groves of trees. The
branches interlocked, providing a seemingly impenetrable canopy. He dropped lower as he slipped between the branches, making his body smaller, uncaring that the use of power might give away his presence. He could see a vampire writhing on the ground, growling and cursing and swearing vengeance as it attempted to remove several knives from its body.
Vikirnoff knew his lifemate was in that thicket of trees. Every protective instinct rose up, every possessive Carpathian trait existing in him, his imprinted instincts all told him she was there. He just couldn't see her.
Movement attracted his eye. Vikirnoff settled the owl's body silently onto a thick, twisted branch high above the ground, folding his wings and watching for movement below him. A shadowy form separated itself from a gnarled trunk and slithered along the rich vegetation, ignoring the shriveling leaves and blackened grasses as it glided into a cleared space in the center of the trees.
«You have been wounded. Let me give you aid.» The shadow raised his head, taking on a more substantial form as he sniffed the air. «The scent of blood is so intoxicating.»
Even the sharp eyes of the owl didn't spot the woman until she moved. She seemed to emerge from the very trees, her body difficult to make out with the bands of light spilling from the moon. Clouds spun overhead shifting the light continually, casting stripes across her. Vikirnoff held his breath as she went from complete stillness to a fluid motion, taking several steps away from the trees toward her shadowy opponent. This then was his lifemate. Natalya Shonski, the woman he had crossed an ocean to find.
She seemed to glow, golden streaks of colors flashing off her hair, black, orange, even platinum. Her eyes, her all important eyes, were no longer blue, but opalescent, a swirling mixture of vibrant colors as turbulent and wild as the raw power emanating from her. Energy crackled around her and the vaporous fog rising from the forest floor churned with renewed vigor, as if by her presence, new life was feeding the grayish mist.
She was dazzling. Vikirnoff stared at her, unable to look away even though the vivid colors hurt his eyes. He had never seen such raw power springing to life. She looked fragile in stillness, yet when she moved, muscles slid suggestively beneath her golden skin. It was how she moved, so fluid, like water over rock, her small form erect, unbending in the face of her enemy. She was exotic and beautiful to him and wholly regal. In spite of the red stain spreading ac
ross her side, her gaze remained fixed on the vampire, an unwavering, focused stare, uncannily like that of a wild predator.
Behold. There she stands. Lifemate to Vikirnoff. The awe and splendor of her astonished him. His lungs burned and his throat felt raw. His body flooded with heat and every muscle seized with desire. He couldn't separate lust from rage, or joy from the need to kill those threatening her. He felt almost dizzy with the combination and intensity of his unfamiliar feelings.
Vikirnoff knew he could no longer afford the chaotic emotions. It was that simple. He
was a hunter and he had a battle in front of him. He was useless in the state he was in. More than useless-he was dangerous not only to himself but to his lifemate. He called on his years of service, years of experience in battle, and centered himself, reached deep to find the eye in the center of the storm, to find the man he had always been-a man short on speech, but long on action when there was need. A man ruled by logic and duty and honor. He waited until the emotional storm subsided and he was once more balanced and in control before he allowed his gaze to dwell on his lifemate.
Natalya's starkly focused stare shifted, a quick, restless movement sliding around her surroundings in a sweep. She inhaled and her gaze touched briefly on Vikirnoff's owl form before sliding past to observe the gathering shapes slinking through the trees in a loose ring around her.
Arturo inclined his head towards her. «You are bleeding. I do not wish you harm, rather I need you to perform a small task for me and then I will allow you to go free.» He swept his arms out from his side in a gesture encompassing the entire forest. «You cannot hope to get away. You are surrounded by those I command and they will cause great damage to you should you try to leave. Come. Be reasonable and come to me.» He opened his arms wide to draw her in. His voice was mesmerizing, beautiful, almost singsong. He looked a young, handsome man, nearly as beguiling as Natalya.
Vikirnoff recognized the strong hidden compulsion in the vampire's voice. He studied the face. It was an illusion, of course, as most masks a vampire chose to wear were, but it was a face Vikirnoff recognized. Arturo had once been a hunter of the very thing he had become. Vikirnoff could only hope Arturo had recently turned and did not have centuries of wielding evil behind him.
«How many times must we do this, Arturo?» There was a deliberate contemptuous challenge in Natalya's voice. «I've staked you a couple of times already. Do you really want to dance with me again?»
The vampire growled, his smooth smile disappearing. «You are incapable of staking one of my strength. You are the one bleeding.»
«Tell yourself that,» she said. «But I think that's blood running down your arm.» She remained utterly motionless and once again the light of the moon hit her in bands. Natalya seemed to fade into the background, the stripes lending her a strange camouflage. Only her eyes blazed, a deep ruby red, nearly glowing in the darkness.
The tree branch beneath Vikirnoff's talons trembled as power swelled in the air. He held himself in check when every instinct told him to go to her, to stand between her and the thing of evil. Centuries of battling the undead held him steady. The trap was too neat, too tidy for his liking. He used the owl's hunting instincts to find what was hidden.
«You have always been too confident, Natalya,» Arturo said. His voice rose to a thin, ugly screech, his illusion beginning to fade as he grew angrier with her. «You will not
escape us this time.» His hand went to his chest and rubbed over the area where his blackened, wizened heart lay. «I was unfortunately not in control of my abilities the last time we met, but I have learned much in the years since that time.» His humorless smile stretched once more, accenting the flesh taut over bone and revealing the sharp, pointed teeth that filled his mouth.
The vampire crawling on the ground used both hands and jerked the knife from his chest, screaming as he did so. The voice was high and ugly and filled with rage and pain. He turned his head to glare at Natalya with hate-filled eyes, the hilt of a knife still sticking in his mouth and throat.
«Will nothing shut you up?» she snapped, rolling her eyes heavenward.
The rush of wind seemed to come from every direction, crashing together with tremendous force between Arturo and Natalya and bringing a putrid smell of decayed flesh. Twigs and leaves rose up through the whirling mist like a black tornado, weaving together to make a tight net above and around Natalya. For a moment it was impossible to see the empty space between the vampire and injured woman. Voices shrieked and wailed from inside the churning whirlwind.
Vikirnoff had no choice. The wolves pressed closer, ringing the dark net brought by the winds. He could see the ground along the outside of the churning mass lifting ominously as if something evil stalked the woman from beneath the soil. Lightning forked overhead and the sound of thunder boomed loud, shaking the earth. He dropped fast, talons outstretched, plunging from a great height to rip through the shield of churning dirt and leaves. The moment he touched the barrier, he sensed the presence of yet another.
The impression of evil washed over him. It was unlike anything he'd felt before. Vampire? Yes. But, much, much more. Vampires were evil, treacherous and cunning. Whatever waited to show itself, whatever had constructed this trap for his lifemate, waited beneath the ground and it felt far, far more evil than any vampire he'd ever encountered in all his centuries of hunting.
His heart lurched. Run. Do not stand and fight. Can you not feel it? Run while you can, before it reveals itself. He gave the command telepathically, «pushing» as hard as he dared with another creature of unknown power so close.
Virkirnoff shifted at the last possible moment, landing directly in front of the woman, shielding her with his body against the attacking vampire. He was hit simultaneously from the front and back. Natalya clawed his back, rending his flesh from the back of his neck to his waist while the vampire Arturo exploded into action, tearing at his chest with razor-sharp talons, shrieking with rage as he dug to get at Vikirnoff's heart.
Vikirnoff would accept death at the hands of his lifemate, but never a vampire. He slammed his fist through the chest cavity, ignoring the pain searing through him as the vampire's talons dug deeper through flesh and bone and acid blood poured over his arm and
hand.
Damn it! You could have let me know you were joining the battle. The attack ended abruptly from behind him and he sensed her fury mixed with guilt.
For a moment there was only the sound of heavy breathing, the outraged scream of the vampire and the terrible pain coursing through his own body. The vampire dissolved, flowing away from him in droplets of mist, a vapor of gray mixed with bright red. Vikirnoff staggered, nearly going to his knees before shoving the pain into some corner of his mind where he could ignore it.
The second vampire, Henrik, dragged yet another knife from his body with a horrific scream and a spray of blood. «Dead,» he snarled, the word so slurred it was nearly impossible to understand. «You're dead.»
Look out! Natalya called out.
Even as Vikirnoff heard the warning, he was already turning to meet the attack of the first wolf as it leapt at him, trying to knock him off of his feet. The wolf's entire weight hit him in the chest, claws digging deep into the wound left behind by the vampire. The impact was so forceful it drove him backward, but he managed to stay upright. Catching the animal and preventing the teeth from boring into his throat, Vikirnoff hurtled the wolf away from him. His strength was enormous and the snarling creature hit a tree trunk with such force it shook the branches. Vikirnoff whirled to face three other wolves as they advanced on him.
Get out of here. I will take care of this while you make your escape. It was necessary to warn his lifemate, to get her clear of the battle when Henrik clawed his way up a tree trunk in preparation of joining the melee.
You've got to be kidding me! Vikirnoff sensed a distinct impression of feminine disgust. You couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag right now. She fired off several rounds at Henrik, closi
ng the distance between them in a single leap and driving a knife for the third time deep into his heart. «Die, damn you!» She jumped back to avoid the raking claws as Henrik once more fell to the ground. She kicked him for good measure. «You are so tiresome, Freddie, and you're making me lose my temper. I'm not nice when I lose my temper.»
Vikirnoff's gaze shifted to her face. You will not address your lifemate with such disrespect. Do as I say at once and leave this place. The battle has only begun and you must remain safe. He will not die if you do not incinerate his heart.
Natalya shot him a venomous look. Keep your orders for someone who wants to be hunter's mouse. And these things should come with an instruction manual on killing them.
I do not want to embarrass you and force your obedience. It was all the warning he was going to give her. The wolves rushed him, one going low for his legs, another leaping for
his chest and the third attacking his arm.
Are you out of your tiny little mind? Do your women actually obey when you say jump? She whirled around, back to back with him, facing outward toward the ring of wolves. And don't think for one moment that you could force my obedience. You don't want to start a war with me.
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