Dark Demon (Dark #16)

Dark Demon (Dark #16) Page 8

Natalya screamed, the sound of agony ripping through the long ice cavern. Her fingers welded to the crystal ball, burning until she thought her skin would peel back to the bone.

Vikirnoff leapt to pull her back, but her voice protested in his mind. No! You cannot touch me. It is consuming me. It cannot take you, too, or I have no way back.

Swearing aloud he dropped his hands to his sides. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to keep from yanking her into his arms. Breathing deep, ignoring the constant sound of the water booming and echoing through the chamber, he concentrated on holding Natalya's essence to him.

I can't do this. It burns, Vikirnoff. I can't think because of the pain.

He felt agony sweeping through her body, the wrenching at her bones and flesh, as if the ball drew her out of the world she inhabited and into the turbulence of the crystal globe itself. Setting his teeth, he took the brunt of the pain from her. Immediately his skin beaded with blood and it dripped from his brow into his eyes. You are both Carpathian and mage. You command the earth and the air and you are unusually strong. Get what you came for

and get out.

Natalya took a deep breath as the pain lessened. It was the confidence in his voice, the respect he afforded her, that allowed her to go beyond her physical body and reach for her mage training. Her body was nothing, a shell, no more than that. Her spirit was stronger than the whirling winds tearing at her flesh. She rose above the pain, above the terror and found her strength.

Colors swirled around her, midnight blues, glittering stars, streaks of light like comets trailing across the sky. Galaxies and star systems shot by her at a dizzying speed, twined together briefly and arced apart with a shower of sparks falling like rain. She found herself staring in wonder, in awe, aware the future lay in that direction. She could find a thread, one that was hers and follow it and know what was waiting. The temptation was strong. It was dazzlingly beautiful, impressive and the idea of knowing what lay ahead was difficult to resist.

Throughout the midnight blue sky lightning forked repeatedly, flashing like a neon sign, drawing her attention. She realized she was being pulled in that direction, her spirit traveling along one of the zigzagging threads. She pulled back. At once the draw fought with her, tugging and tugging, beguiling her with glimpses of her future. She steadfastly refused to look, instinctively fearing once pulled into the realm of the future, she might not find her way back. And what she sought could not possibly lie in that direction.

Ropes of various colored pearls whirled around her, carried by the power of the winds. One in particular caught her attention because of the unusual color, the same cloudy hues that glittered in her eyes when the tigress in her was rising toward the surface. She watched them even as she fought the strength of the wind. Her father had often compared her eyes to sea pearls.

Natalya reached for the strand that resembled the color of her tiger eyes. A turbulent vortex gripped her, sucked her into the whirling mass. Clutching the rope of pearls tightly, Natalya clung to the merge she held with Vikirnoff. He was her anchor and wherever her spirit traveled, he traveled with her holding guard over her physical body.

Scenes of battles rushed past her. Dark, ugly visions of blood and death. She wept, overcome with the useless deaths as men fought for religion or power or land. Natalya fought to keep from sliding farther into the vacuum of the past. Small, black shadows tugged at the edges of her spirit in an attempt to consume her. The voices of mages whose souls had been trapped in the endless cycle of the past wailed at her in warning, in sorrow.

She might have lost herself in the terrible pain of reliving so many deaths, seeing the mistakes made over and over throughout history, but Vikirnoff was always there, murmuring encouragement, holding her tightly without physical form.

Soren. She'd nearly missed him in all the history swirling around her, but there he was. Her father, tall and handsome with his black hair and vivid green eyes. Her heart turned

over and she reached for him. She couldn't touch him. Natalya realized she was looking at him through a reflection. He turned and her heart nearly stopped. He was ravaged and worn with pain. Burned on one side, encased in ice on the other. He had been tortured, yet kept alive, his blood draining from his body in a long tube.

Father! She screamed it-tried frantically to reach him, but he shook his head and looked straight at her. His eyes clouded and she could see a knife reflected there. It was obviously ancient, ceremonial, the handle studded with gems, the blade slightly curved. The knife spun, pointed at her, turned again so that she could see it from every angle. You want me to find the knife. For a moment the vision held and then the knife wavered and was gone. His gaze dropped to his hands. She saw that he was holding a huge tome. An ancient spell book. It was closed, the cover etched in dark reddish brown stains. The book is important.

A shadowy figure, the man she recognized from her childhood nightmares loomed over Soren. Instinctively Natalya pulled back. Movement must have caught the eye of her father's tormenter, because she saw the dark shape turn toward her and heard a slow hiss of rage. She felt the icy breath of death on her and her spirit trembled.

Graphic images of her father being tortured overwhelmed her. Vivid details of her mother being devoured by vampires followed. Of her father finding her mother, his grief so deep he was nearly insane. Each explicit vignette was in horrifying detail, each worse than the one before until she was paralyzed with grief and horror. She felt the darker shadows tugging and pulling and drawing her to them, but she couldn't move, couldn't break away. Evil laughter echoed. Something clawed at her mind, raked at her.

Natalya! Come to me now! Vikirnoff issued the command with every bit of power he possessed. Her body had begun to fade. It started on her arms, as if something was taking bites of flesh from her, replacing her skin with a thin opaque shell. She was becoming translucent, a ghostly image rather than a flesh-and-blood body.

Fear nearly consuming him, Vikirnoff plunged his mind into hers. Ainaak enyem, I will not let you go. They cannot have you. You are ainaak'sivamet jutta, forever to my heart connected. Come to me now, Natalya, your lifemate commands this.

Guilt and fear warred with self-preservation, but the power of her lifemate was incredible, even there in the realm of past and present. In the midst of a living storm, with the fury of the wind tearing at her, Natalya turned to Vikirnoff. The reassuring warmth of his presence enveloped her, his memories, his character, the way he thought and acted. His integrity and strength of purpose. She focused on his steadfastness. For the first time she was happy that they were connected, that his strength of will could be added to her own.

I can't make myself leave my father.

She couldn't find her way back. She was too exhausted, too tired of being alone. Her father and mother and Razvan were all here, in this place. She could stay with them, be with

them. So many years had gone by with her moving from country to country with no one to talk to, no one to share with. What awaited her but endless loneliness if she returned?

It is another lure, Natalya, an attempt to cloud your thinking. You belong with me. Your father would not want you trapped here with him. You cannot save him. What was done cannot be undone. Come with me, ainaak enyem, merge and become one with me. Vikirnoff used every art he possessed. Beguiling her. Compulsion. Seduction. Commanding-all wrapped together in his softly spoken words, dragging her back up the strands of time through the sheer strength of character and will he had come to possess over so many centuries.

She heard a roar of fury as she moved away from her father and his tormenter, from the tearing claws of the smaller dark shadows, climbing ever higher. The shadows streaked after her, reaching with hands and claws in an attempt to stop her and as she approached her own time, dazzling white orbs spun and beckoned, attempting to lure her with glimpses of the future.

Natalya clung tighter to Vikirnoff, crawling deeper into his mind where she knew she would be safe. Vikirnoff would never abandon her. She closed her mind to the all too-vivid memory of her father's tortured death and embraced life in her own time, whatever that might be. She didn't need to stay in the past. She chose the here and now.

Natalya found herself back in her own body, so weak she would have collapsed onto the floor of the ice cave if Vikirnoff hadn't caught her to him. They clung to one another, Natalya shuddering violently and Vikirnoff trembling with the knowledge he'd nearly lost her.

Tears poured down her face. "My father." She could barely get the words out, her throat was so raw with grief. "He was tortured."

"I know, ainaak enyem.'" His voice was tender as he stroked her hair, seeking a way to comfort her. "I am so sorry." She hadn't just seen her father's torture; she had experienced it. "I would give anything to prevent you having to go through that." He framed her face with his hands and kissed her tears away.

Natalya looked up at his face, the smears of blood on his forehead, the tracks of blood-red tears on his face. He'd shared the same experience and he'd also shared her wild grief and outrage. She wiped his brow with gentle fingers, touched the tear tracks and leaned into him. "Thank you for being with me."

"Always, Natalya." All the while he was comforting her, he was aware that the boom of the water had grown frantic, so loud the ice chamber shook. He eyed the rusty pool that was growing with each drop, not deeper, but spreading out like a giant stain. "We have to leave this place now, Natalya." Attacking the pool without knowing what he faced in a cavern full of magick could be suicide.

She took a breath, her fingers digging into his arm for support. "I have to find the knife. You saw it. You were in my mind. I have to get the knife." She glanced around the ice chamber. "The alcove has a huge cache of weapons. It's the most likely place."

"You have got to hurry. The vampires are nearly on us. We are going to have to fight our way out of here," he cautioned.

He clamped down hard against his natural protective instincts to snatch her up and get her away from danger. He was beginning to realize having a lifemate was difficult. Living with her wasn't about what he wanted, or even needed. Being a lifemate was about supporting Natalya even when everything in him wanted something else. Her personality required a certain amount of freedom and it didn't always matter what he deemed best.

He knew she had to complete this task. And now, when it was apparent her father had been tortured and murdered, it was more important than ever. He guarded her back, moving with her across the floor of ice, eyes scanning the great chamber.

"My heart is beginning to beat with the same rhythm as the water dripping," Natalya confided in a whisper. "And that's just freaky." She kept her gaze fixed on the small alcove containing the cache of weapons. She knew the vampires were close. The dragon on her body seemed to be burning a hole through her skin.

"My heart is doing the same thing, Natalya," Vikirnoff said. "And when I pulled you away from the shadows, the bubbling in that puddle took on an entire new meaning."

Natalya glanced at the thick rusty puddle. "It looks like a witches brew." Her gaze went right back to the weapons, drawn by something outside of herself. Her breath caught in her lungs and she stopped abruptly. "I see the knife."

"Can you get to it?"

"Yes, but doubt I'll just be able to grab the thing."

Vikirnoff shifted his attention to the west wall down near the floor where the ice was melting at an alarming rate. Insects poured into the chamber, a mass exodus of crickets and beetles and every cave-dwelling bug imaginable. "We are going to have company any minute, Natalya, do what you have to do and let us leave this place." He positioned himself between his lifemate and the rapidly melting ice.

"Keep them off of me for a few minutes," she replied. "I have to figure this out." Unlocking the safeguards around the ceremonial knife required concentration, something difficult when the steady drip of the water was echoing through her brain and jangling every nerve. Even her blood seemed to jump as each drop fell into the ever-widening puddle. The insects would have been a terrible distraction, but they were rushing through the chamber to get away from something far worse following them.

Natalya moved her hands in a complicated pattern, murmuring a simple uncloaking spell

her father had taught her in her early childhood. Knowing her father had drawn her to the cave made it easier to solve the puzzles. He would use safeguards specific to her. And the uncloaking spell was one of the things she recalled from her earliest memory of him. The invisible barrier shimmered into view. She studied it from every angle.

Vikirnoff hissed a soft warning to Natalya as mud and water burst through the west wall, spilling onto the floor carrying a wiggling mass of spike-toothed serpentine creatures. Right behind them Arturo and a second vampire stepped into the ice chamber. As if sensing the presence of fellow evil, the rusty puddle on the floor of the cavern erupted into a boiling mass of noxious, thick bubbles.

Vikirnoff whirled into motion, calling on fire, fashioning a whip of flames to snap at the serpents racing toward Natalya. The fire whip whistled through the air, a dazzling orange-red messenger of death, lashing the creatures in a display of expertise. The smell of burning flesh added to the putrid brew of the puddle.

You don't believe in niceties, do you? Natalya asked.

Get it done. More are coming.

Natalya forced her attention back to the barrier. Vikirnoff had dealt with the snakes in a rather spectacular and efficient way. After sharing such a deep mind merge with him, she had absolute faith that he'd hold off the vampires until she had what she'd come for. There was no give in Vikirnoff. He'd fight for her with his last dying breath. As strong as the compulsion was for her to complete her task, his protective instincts were stronger. If necessary, he would get her to her safety.

Natalya took a deep, calming breath and let it out, focusing wholly on the box the uncloaking spell had revealed. The box seemed solid. A transparent rectangle surrounding the knife. Cautiously, she put her palm close to it. Heat and power blasted her skin and she hastily pulled her hand back.

Vikirnoff cracked the flaming whip at the vampire Arturo had thrust in front of him. The whip curled around the lesser vampire's neck and as Vikirnoff tugged hard, the whip dragged him closer.

The vampire screamed, the high-pitched sound shattering several stalactites so that they dropped like spears from the ceiling, straight at Vikirnoff. He dissolved, throwing up a hasty shield around Natalya as he streamed past the lesser vampire and went straight for Arturo, shifting back into his natural form immediately.

"Get the woman, Cezar!" Arturo ordered, stumbling backward at the sudden attack.

Natalya felt the protective cloak surround her on three sides and sent up a small prayer of thanks that Vikirnoff, in his haste, hadn't closed her off from the knife. She pressed her palms together tightly, raised them in ceremony, murmured a short, but powerful spell of

protection and pointed her fingers straight at the exact middle of the box. With her hands pressed tightly together, she pushed forward resolutely, straight into the center of the barricade, pulling her hands apart as she did so to part the obstruction and allow her access to the ceremonial knife. She felt the incredible heat close around her, but the protection spell held and she reached for the gem-studded handle.

Vikirnoff drove his fist straight through Arturo's chest, slamming hard, fingers going through the bony shield toward the shriveled heart. The vampire howled, bent his head and sank his teeth into Vikirnoff's neck, slicing through skin and tissue, artery and nerves. Vikirnoff grasped the blackened heart, ripping it from the vampire's chest just as Natalya gripped the ceremonial knife.

The moment Natalya's fingers settled around the handle, she felt the walls of time shape and curve. She knew at once she'd made a terrible mistake. She should never have touched the object without a barrier between it and her skin. Vikirnoff. Link with me now! Help me. Merge with me. She screamed for his help telepathically as she was sucked down-deep into the violent past of the knife.

Vikirnoff merged his mind deep into hers. His spirit ripped through the curving tunnels with her, his mind divided in both the past and the present. Having the presence of mind to keep a grip on the vampire's heart, he dragged his fist from the evil one's chest and flung it onto the floor. To his astonishment, the organ flopped, not toward Arturo, but toward the bubbling rusty puddle.

Arturo's scream was one of rage and pain. He leapt across the room toward the rolling heart, calling it back, his commands going unheeded. As Arturo fell to the ground and clawed his way across the ice in search of his heart, Vikirnoff slammed the flaming whip directly across the path leading to the puddle. The heart ran right into the dancing flames just as Arturo's hand slammed over the top of it.

You may kill me Xavier, but you will never destroy my people. My blood may run in the veins of my children, but it will not provide you with the immortality you seek.

Vikirnoff whirled around shocked to hear the voice of Rhiannon of the Dragonseekers. It was so clear, so real, he expected to see her standing behind him. It took a moment to realize he was sharing the past with Natalya.

Arturo took advantage, dragging his burned hand from the flames and gleefully restoring his heart to his chest. Blood was pouring down both the front of the vampire, and Vikirnoff's neck. Arturo reached out and smeared the ancient hunter's blood on his hand and licked at it. "You should have joined us. Your prince is injured, his hunter in the ground, nearly dead and now you and your woman will die."

Vikirnoff was already in motion, whirling away from the attack as both vampires rushed him. Blood loss weakened him and it was disorienting to be in two places at one time. They needed help and other Carpathians in the vicinity should have felt the presence of evil. He

had wondered why Mikhail Dubrinksy, the prince of the Carpathians had not come to their aid in the earlier battle with the vampires. Vikirnoff could only think Mikhail must have been injured and in the ground not to have felt the battle in the forest.

Cezar slammed into the protective barrier shielding Natalya. He clawed at the shield with sharp talons, then crawled up the side of the ice cave, his body shifting into the form of a dark furred creature with talons and a spiked tail. He launched himself at Vikirnoff as Arturo's body contorted, his face elongating into the muzzle of a wolf.

Natalya. Drop the knife now.

Vikirnoff's voice was steady, but she caught the underlying sense of urgency. Natalya wanted to let go. She tried to open her fingers, but it was impossible. The aftermath of violence attached to objects always trapped her for a time. The more violence the object held, the more difficult it was to escape. The ceremonial knife had been used often. Xavier was trying to gain immortality by consuming Rhiannon's blood.

It was impossible to look away from the scene. Her grandmother was beautiful in spite of the bruises darkening her too-pale skin. She lay paralyzed, bound by not only powerful spells, but some type of poison Xavier had used to hold her prisoner. Tubes ran from Rhiannon's body, draining blood from her, just as Natalya's father had been drained. The same shadowy figure approached the bed, knife gripped in hand.

"I no longer need you, my dear. You have served your purpose and have given me a son and two females to take your place. Your blood runs in their veins. I will use the females' blood and allow my son to give me grandchildren that I might continue to live." He laughed, the sound evil even as it traveled through time. "You will never know them and they will never know you. Go now, join your precious lifemate."

Rhiannon smiled. "My children know me, even as babes, they know me."

Xavier raised the knife high and plunged it deep into Rhiannon's heart.

Natalya screamed, both hands going to cover her heart as Xavier dug deep with the blade in Rhiannon's chest. She watched her grandmother's death in horror. Xavier collected the blood from the heart and put it in a small vial, carrying it over to a table where a large book lay open.

Xavier closed the book, satisfaction on his face as he glanced back at the dead woman. "I have what I need from you, Rhiannon. At last. You will be the instrument of destruction of your race. When I am done, there will be no Carpathians, no Jaguar, and only one dark mage ruling what always should have been mine." He closed the book and ran his hand over the cover.

Natalya held her breath as she watched him set the vial of blood beside two others. He chose one and lifted it high. "Sealed with the blood of the dark mage." He poured the

second. "Sealed with the blood of the jaguar." He picked up the third. "Sealed with the blood of the Carpathian. Sealed with blood of the three, opened with blood of the three."

A chill went down Natalya's spine. What was he doing? What did it mean? She tried to move into a better position to hear the spell he was using, but her attention shifted when she felt Vikirnoff falter.

Natalya. I have need of you now!

The urgency in the hunter's voice overrode the enthrallment of experiencing the past. Something was terribly wrong and she had to get to him. In the past, when she'd accessed violent scenes from objects, she had always relived the entire vignette, not breaking free until it played out, but Vikirnoff wouldn't ask for help unless he was in dire straits. Natalya concentrated on the knife. Her fingers around the knife, the feel of it in her palm. That was real. In the here and now. She was standing in an ice chamber with the ceremonial knife in her hand. All she had to do was open her fingers one by one to release it. She focused on her fingers and pried them loose, allowing the ceremonial knife to clatter to the floor.

At once she was back in the present, the walls shaping around her and the bitter cold stealing into her body. She knew the vignettes from the past often played out in seconds, even when she felt wrung out and exhausted as if she'd relived hours of time, but it was the intensity of the violence rather than time passage.

She had little time to orient herself to the present. Horrified by the blood on Vikirnoff's neck and the sight of the two vampires closing in on them, she flung several throwing stars at Arturo, racing toward him as she did so. The small missiles sank deep into the chest of the vampire as he attempted to shift into the form of a wolf.

You're losing too much blood, Vikirnoff. The sight of him nearly shook her confidence. If they didn't stop his bleeding their chances of escaping were down to zero. She somersaulted over Arturo, kicking him in the thick muzzle as she did so to keep his attention centered on her. As she landed behind him, she caught up her pack and dragged out a shirt. He whirled around to face her, snarling, showing a mouthful of teeth.

You'll have to cauterize the wound, Natalya. I cannot shut down my heart and lungs at this moment and there is little chance they will wait for me to heal myself. Vikirnoff caught the furred creature in midair as Cezar landed nearly on his head, claws raking, teeth and tail slashing. Vikirnoff staggered under the weight as the vampire struggled, using the agility of its animal form.

"Arturo, I'll just bet you missed me." Natalya was already in motion, whirling in close, just out of his reach, her knife slicing across his chest as she moved past him to scoop up the ceremonial knife, using the shirt, and jamming it deep into her pack. I don't know if I can do it, Vikirnoff. The idea was so distasteful, she felt sick.

Vikirnoff threw Cezar off, whirling and slashing with his own talons, fighting past the

razor-sharp claws in an attempt to penetrate the vampire's chest. Cezar fell back to avoid Vikirnoff's attack, only to spring at him a second time, this time cloning himself so that three creatures sprung forward, all teeth and claws, instead of one.

Blood sprayed from Vikirnoff's neck now and he was far weaker. You are a strong woman, Natalya. You will do what needs to be done. He resorted to the fire whip to keep the creatures at bay. Watch Arturo. He is up to something.

Natalya stuck the blade of her knife into the orange and red flames of the fire whip until the blade glowed with heat, all the while watching Arturo. He stalked them across the ice chamber, still half-wolf and half-man. The knife is hot enough, Vikirnoff. Her stomach lurched. He was counting on her. He thought her strong, but the idea of pressing the hot blade of a knife against the terrible wound in his neck was barbaric.

Now, Natalya. I ant too weak to keep this up and the other is near. I cannot feel his presence, but Arturo and Cezar are both suddenly excited. Can you feel the difference in them?

The air vibrated with electric excitement. Whatever they are expecting can't be good for us. "Arturo, your fur is looking a bit moldy." She inched closer to Vikirnoff, the blade of her knife glowing with heat.

Arturo's muzzle gaped wide, exposing the huge canines.

"What big teeth you have, grandma," Natalya said, steeling herself to cauterize the wound on Vikirnoff's neck. She took a deep breath. I'm sorry. Natalya pressed the blade of her knife to Vikirnoff's neck before she could lose her nerve. She stayed firmly in his mind, even when he tried to throw her out, clinging tightly, wanting to shoulder the pain. He shuddered with agony, his body breaking out in a sweat. The smell of flesh burning was sickening. Natalya fought back bile. I'm so sorry, Vikirnoff. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

You do what is necessary. Take Arturo, but stay out of his reach. He is strong.

"Arturo! Baby! Come dance with me." She crooked her finger at him.

Arturo shifted fully into his human form. "I do not think it would be fair to do so when the hunter is recovering from his wounds. Cezar, what do you think? Perhaps a five minute truce to allow him to rest?"

Natalya forced a carefree laugh. "Sorry, big boy, five minutes is way too long to spend in your company." She drew the guns from under her arms and shot him repeatedly, firing rapidly as she dove to his left away from Vikirnoff and toward the patterned stones on the floor of the ice cave. The sound of gunfire reverberated throughout the cavern. She aimed over the head of the vampires and shot at several stalactites so that they broke loose and crashed to the floor of the cave. She skidded to a halt directly over the patterned squares.

It was difficult to study the pattern and keep her eye on the vampire at the same time and she wanted an alternate escape route planned. Arturo was furious, his face contorted as he flew at her, slamming large ice blocks around her in an effort to cut her off from Vikirnoff.

She leapt on top of the ice wall as a third vampire emerged from the hole the first two had made. He was tall and thin, his hair long and his eyes red-rimmed. An eerie silence greeted his arrival. No one moved. She sensed Vikirnoff's sudden stillness and shifted her gaze to him instinctively for guidance.

Vikirnoff's features remained completely expressionless, but his heart sank as he recognized one of the Malinov brothers. Natalya. This one is nearly indestructible. He is a master and will be very hard to destroy. I helped to kill his brother not so long ago, and it was a difficult battle, one we nearly did not win and there were two experienced hunters. We must get out now.

They needed a miracle. Three vampires, one a master. Not just any master, but a Malinov. We are in trouble, Natalya, be prepared for anything.

"Vikirnoff, it is long since I have seen you," the tall vampire greeted.

"Maxim, it has indeed been long." Do not draw his attention. It is imperative we escape, Natalya.

Normally Natalya might have defied him, just because she disliked orders, but something about the newcomer was terrifying. She could see Arturo trembling. All three of the creatures that were Cezar cowered to make themselves smaller. She had a sudden desire to do the same when the vampire flicked his cold gaze in her direction.

"I met Kirja recently in the United States." Vikirnoff deliberately brought the vampire's attention back to him.

Maxim's expression hardened. "You were there when my brother was murdered?"

"I do not recall a murder, Maxim. I believe Kirja was attempting to kill a hunter and his lifemate." Find the way out, Natalya.

Natalya jerked her mesmerized gaze from the vampire and began to work on the pattern she knew had to be in the stones on the floor. The dark mage would have had an escape route known only to him, one easily accessible. He couldn't fly the way the Carpathians could, so he would have had a way to flee from the cavern.

"Have you seen your precious prince?"

Vikirnoff forced himself not to react when his gut rolled in protest and his heart wanted to accelerate. "I have not had the honor as of yet."

"I fear he has been gravely injured, as was Falcon, the hunter guarding him. So sad, but

Mikhail's death will benefit so many."

Vikirnoff's heart sank but his expression remained the same. An injury to the prince was the only reasonable explanation for the lack of aid to either of the battles. Still, Vikirnoff had held out hope only to have it dashed. "He will not die, Maxim. His people will not allow his death."

"Oh, I say he will, Vikirnoff. He is surrounded, under siege, wounded and without protection. We outnumber him and he cannot escape us. When he falls, so will his line fall and the people will scatter and we will pick them off one by one." Maxim tapped his long fingernails against his arm. The rhythm matched the water dripping steadily into the ever-widening puddle.

Vikirnoff risked a glance at the bubbling water. It had grown and was beginning to overflow onto the floor, the brownish liquid spreading like fingers out over the ice, running along unseen grooves, following several paths all leading toward Natalya. Vikirnoff's heart jumped when he realized it was within striking distance of her. He couldn't afford to wait much longer. Natalya had to find them a way out of the cave. If he took her and tried to escape using the route they'd entered, the vampires would kill them before they ever gained the entrance of the cave. He had been in desperate situations over the centuries, but never quite like this-and never with a lifemate to protect.

I think I can open the escape route, Vikirnoff. Say the word and I'll give it a try.

There was little point in stalling. Malinov intended to kill him and Vikirnoff didn't want to wait until the three vampires were in position to do so. Arturo was already inching his way closer. The two clones and Cezar growled and showed teeth. Malinov simply smiled, his eyes cold and alert.

Vikirnoff whirled into motion. Now, Natalya, open it and be ready. You cannot allow them to see what you do. He snapped the fire whip across the backs of the three creatures snarling at him. One howled and he lashed it mercilessly, driving it back, sending flames dancing over the dark fur. Cezar immediately shifted shape, dissolving into a greenish vapor and streaking toward the small alcove where the cache of weapons beckoned enticingly.

"No!" Natalya called out the warning, Vikirnoff's voice echoing her.

It was too late. Cezar caught up a heavy sword and turned to face Vikirnoff. Wind rushed through the chamber, rising to a howl of fury. The tall columns of ice trembled and within the spheres, clouds and mist swirled angrily. Something moved in the corner.

The floor cracked, a long jagged streak, several inches deep running the length of the room. Ice crackled overhead and along the walls surrounding them, shirting with creaks and groans so that cracks appeared overhead. Black and gray smoke poured from the cracks in the ice. Above their heads, a gray smoke swirled in the wind. More gathered near the

columns until the chamber was filled. The smoke separated into individual pillars, continually moving, red fiery eyes glittering dangerously. They caught glimpses of suits of armor and large menacing swords.

"What have you done?" Maxim Malinov demanded of Cezar, staring around the huge chamber at the tall, daunting looking figures taking shape around the chamber.

"He touched what did not belong to him," Vikirnoff said.

"You fool," Maxim snarled. "You have summoned the shadow warriors."

"'She touched things." Cezar defended himself. "She has something in her pack right now. I didn't bring them to us."

I have the blood of the dark mage running in my veins. I can touch objects others cannot.

And you can command them, Vikirnoff pointed out.

Maybe.

Maxim gestured toward Natalya. "Kill the hunter and take the woman prisoner now before it is too late. And bring to me what she has in her pack."

Cezar raced at Vikirnoff, sword raised for the kill. Arturo remained frozen in place. At once the shadow warriors went on the alert, glowing eyes trained on Cezar, converging on him from all directions to surround him.

Movement attracts their attention. Do not move if you can help it, Natalya. Can you send the warriors back to their resting places as you did the one at the inn?

I honestly don't know. There are so many of them. Hopefully he used the same spells to draw and bind them.

What else can go wrong? Vikirnoff remained locked in place, calculating the distance to Natalya and whether he dared chance taking the form of mist to reach her.

Hold on. The male voice came out of nowhere, shockingly on the common mental path used by most Carpathians. I am coming to your aid.

Mikhail Dubrinsky. Prince of the Carpathian people. Vikirnoff's heart jumped into his throat. Even injured, the prince had come for them. He knew Maxim had caught the message. The vampires, in spite of the shadow warriors, were excited.

"He comes! Kill him. Call the others. He is alone, without aid. Surround him and kill him," Maxim demanded.

It is a trap, Mikhail. Get out. I have no need of you. Go now.

I will not leave a wounded hunter trapped. There was iron in the voice. Steel. Implacable resolve.

"Of course not," Maxim sneered gleefully. "He is invincible."