The wind shrieked and moaned a warning. The ground beneath their feet shivered, lifted and settled.
“More come,” Vasilisa cautioned.
Afanasiv felt the warning coming from both the earth and the wind. They knew Xayvion had assembled an army to attack the Lycans, and this was his night to wipe out as many as possible in one fast raid. Still, he waited without revealing himself. The masters would come like bloated spiders, waiting until chaos took all attention and they could safely exit the house. It mattered little to them that the pawns they’d brought to serve them were being destroyed; more were coming. More would take their place. Xayvion had promised he would provide many vampires to surround the masters to serve them.
The fourth and fifth lesser vampires rushed the king of the Lycans, desperate to get at him. Any who could claim to have killed a royal would be richly rewarded by the high mage. Unlike either of his brothers, Xayvion seemed to keep his word.
Andros had stepped out of the protective circle, a large dark wolf with ice-blue eyes attempting to draw as much danger as possible awayfrom his sister and brother. Both were more vulnerable in their human form. Six feet from him was Grigor, a tall, broad-shouldered wolf with powerful muscles and the same ice-blue eyes.
The vampires came at them, chanting, swaying, doing their best to distract and mesmerize as they approached the wolves. Andros and Grigor allowed them to come closer before they sprang at the two vampires with the incredible speed of a Lycan. The vampires simply took to the air, certain they could get above the wolves and then drop down on them to rip their heads from their shoulders. Lycans could leap incredible distances, but few knew of their abilities unless they had reason to know. The vampires found themselves with jaws that felt like steel clamped around their legs and claws tearing into their chests, digging for their hearts before they’d even been torn from the skies and brought back to earth.
The wolves dragged the vampires to the ground, ignoring the black acid pouring over their muzzles as they held them down while they tried to drag the hearts out of the chests. Vampires and demons rushed from all directions of the forest, bearing down on the group. Andros and Grigor didn’t stop. They continued ripping at the chests of the two lesser vampires until they managed to extract the hearts.
Vasi.Andros tossed the heart high. Grigor did the same.
Vasilisa used the blue flame from her sword to incinerate the hearts and then turned the hot flames on the vampire bodies as her brothers sprang away. Choosing two of the vampires closest to their siblings, Andros and Grigor rushed toward them, angling away from Vasilisa and Garald.
Vasilisa turned her attention fully onto the approaching elite demons. There were only so many places on one of these thick-chested, armor-plated demons where one could kill them. Still, they couldn’t take the blazing light of her crystalline sword any better than the vampires could. As the lowered heads with the sharpened horns of the demons closed in on her, she waited until the last possible second. Garald never flinched, although he was facing three of the demons,and he could feel the heat of the putrid breath on his face. He waited for his sister to take control.
The blazing light of the crystalline sword turned night into day, as if the sun had suddenly switched places with the moon in the night sky. It was just for a split second that the elite demons were completely disoriented, blinded by the light. They tried skidding to a halt, dust and snow thrown up as their hooves fought for traction.
Garald stepped forward, his sword stabbing deep into the eye of one while his smaller dagger found the eye of the second demon. As he pulled the sword free, he kept the movement continuous, slicing the head from first one and then the second. He danced closer to the third as it righted itself, shaking its massive head. His sword swung under the head, coming up through the throat. The demon jerked its head high off the blade before it could do any real damage. Garald had anticipated the move, having fought the elite on a number of occasions with his sister. As his opponent jerked upward freeing the blade, Garald turned in an elegant, almost ballet move, the sword going up and over, slicing cleanly through the back of the neck, removing the head.
Vasilisa blinded the demons with the blazing light from her sword as their foul breath reached her. The moment they seemed confused, trying to pull up, clearly unable to see, she stabbed deep, one eye after another, with blinding speed. The moment she did, she used the burning hot blade to remove the heads of all three elite demons. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that her brother had dropped the demons charging him. Together, they moved out and away from the house and circle of protection the hidden ancients provided in order to better protect their brothers from the demons rushing from the forest.
Afanasiv felt his heart nearly stop.Sívamet. Stay close to me. The master vampires will be exiting. I must stay here in order to stop them.
This is what I do, Siv. Just as you fight vampires, I fight demons. These are my brothers, my people. Trust in my abilities.
For one terrible moment, Afanasiv fought with himself not to use his considerable powers to force obedience. He couldn’t be in twoplaces at one time. Most master vampires had gotten to be in that position because they had fought and killed many hunters. They’d learned how to use lesser vampires as pawns to tire the hunter or wound him and make him vulnerable. Over the centuries, they had acquired battle strategy. Depending on the age and experience of a master vampire, they could be quite deadly to fight.
Splinters of wood on the doorjamb shriveled and peeled off, smoking and falling to the snow in tiny specks of blackened ash. One master slithered across the snow in the wake of the demons attacking the royals.
I do not recognize him,Afanasiv said to his brethren.
I will take him,Benedek announced.I have run into him before. He calls himself Slayer of Hunters.
He launched himself straight at the master vampire, full speed, much like a missile. At the last moment, as the master vampire was certain he had made an escape without being seen, Benedek materialized in front of him, slamming his fist deep through the chest wall. His momentum and the speed the master vampire was using to depart aided him in going through the thin armor plate he had encountered before when fighting the vampire.
His fingers closed around the heart. Slayer of Hunters instantly went on the attack, driving his own fist into Benedek’s chest, seeking his heart. Simultaneously, the vampire leaned into the ancient hunter and ripped at his throat with serrated spiked teeth. Rich Carpathian blood welled up, spilled from the torn throat down to his chest. Instantly, the vampire inhaled the scent of the blood and began frantically licking with a snakelike tongue. Starved of blood from being shrunken and left for too long, the vampire tried gulping the rare treat. The blood would make him strong. It was rich and hot. He hadn’t had Carpathian blood in a century.
Benedek ripped the heart from Slayer of Hunters’ chest and flung it on the ground, calling down the lightning as he did so. The master vampire jerked at Benedek’s heart, but it was too late for him. He wasstill partially distracted by the rich blood that he barely noticed until the white-hot flash came that his heart was gone. Shrieking, he threw himself at his heart, trying to get to it before the jagged bolt of lightning reached it. He was too late. The blinding light hit the heart and leapt to the vampire.
The second master vampire had crawled up the doorjamb to cling to the side of the structure as Benedek attacked Slayer of Hunters. He went very still to hide himself. As the vampire and Benedek fought, he hurried up to the rooftop and lay flat, peering over the side to see how Slayer of Hunters fared. He began to back away, slithering like a crab on the roof, when he caught the scent of the rich, hot Carpathian blood. The droplets seemed to float in the air to him. Starved, he hesitated, torn between self-preservation and the terrible need to feed on the amazing and rare treat of ancient Carpathian blood.
Petru stalked the master vampire, hovering just above him. It was very clear Xayvion hadn’t realized what being inside his Trojan horse for so long would do to his demons and vampires. It was his first time using this spell, and he hadn’t considered the vampires would be weak and not just craving blood but starving for it.
Before Petru struck, the vampire crawled forward again and peered over the roof at Benedek, who seemed to stagger as he turned toward Vasilisa and Garald. He was slow closing his wounds, as if he had been severely injured and it was taking far more strength than he had anticipated. The master vampire growled his appreciation, looked around carefully at the chaos happening below and sniffed the air one more time. The overpowering scent of the ancient blood was too hard to resist. He floated to the ground to stand just out of reach of the hunter.
“You seem to be having trouble healing your wounds, Benedek. Perhaps I can aid you.” The sly malice in his voice matched the hideous putrid vapor pouring out of his mouth. The discolored gas appeared green against the white backdrop of Vasilisa’s sword’s light. The vampire threw up a cloak to shield his body from the brightness, but his eyes wept continuously.
Benedek narrowed his gaze and took a half step to the side to avoid the vapor. His hands dropped from his wounds as he faced the vampire. “Baird. How good of you to worry about me, but I think I can manage. It is best if you seek justice elsewhere this night. In all fairness, I can see that you have been deprived of blood for some time and are too weak to give me any kind of real challenge.”
Baird licked at his lips. From the corners of his mouth, tiny parasites wiggled free and dropped to the ground.
“Hunters care nothing for fairness in battle. What is wrong, Benedek?” Baird sent another stream of poisonous vapor toward the ancient. Baird began to sway slightly, inching closer, beginning to drool.
“Actually, Baird,” Benedek said. “Nothing at all. I believe your mistake was trusting the mage and all his promises. It sounded like a good idea, didn’t it? But mages have a way of making things sound good, especially when you are the one taking all the chances.”