Dark Slayer

Nicolae held up his hand and all of them crouched low, spreading out and automatically blurring their bodies to make it much more difficult to see in the thick snowstorm. A slight breeze blew through the trees so that they caught glimpses of figures up ahead in the meadow-many figures. Big. Tall. Short. Stout. Arms stuck out in strange sticklike shapes, the fingers outstretched as if seeking something.

«What is it?» Vikirnoff asked. «That's not them.»

«Ghouls? An army of ghouls?» Andre suggested.

Gregori rolled his eyes. «I very much doubt it.»

As they stared, trying to peer through the heavy veil of snow, the figures shifted, moving busily around, stooping, shaping, building a low structure.

«A wall?» Tariq whispered.

«It's going up fast. Too fast to be anything but magic,» Mataias warned. He signaled his brothers and they separated, coming around the meadow from three different points of attack.

The hunters crept closer, using the trees to mask their presence, all senses alert. Whatever was guarding the couple gave off no scent, no spoor whatsoever. It was as if the couple was gone, and the land itself was pristine with snow.

«A fortress,» Lojos hissed in warning.

The attack came swiftly. Missiles whistled through the air, a bombardment, the air heavy with white-capped balls that hit with deadly accuracy, slamming into the Carpathians, the trees, and everything else in the battle zone.

«Acid!» Tomas hissed in warning.

The men dissolved and burst onto the battlefield, each in front of one of the attacking ghouls, punching through the chest to get at withered hearts, others slicing through necks to take the heads from the vampire's puppets.

Gregori folded his arms and leaned against the broad trunk of a tree and watched the frenzied, chaotic fight, the battle raging furiously as the ghouls continued hurling the missiles and others continued rapidly building until the structure began to form a roof, now surrounding them on all four sides, confining them within its walls.

«It is a trap,» Tariq warned the others. «Above you.»

The seven Carpathian hunters somersaulted away from their opponents, each trying to study the structure rapidly enclosing them.

Gregori shook his head, rolling his eyes while the minutes ticked by and the ghouls grew more plentiful and the missiles doubled.

Vikirnoff worked his way across the battlefield to his side. «Do you mind helping?»

«I would feel a bit ridiculous fighting snowmen, but you go right ahead,» Gregori said with a small elegant bow toward the ancient hunter.

Vikirnoff looked around, a frown on his face. Everything slowed a bit as he tried to see with all of his senses. The ferocious battle continued, but now the ghouls were white and flaky and suspiciously round in body and head. The arms appeared to be nothing more than branches and old twigs. The missiles were snowballs, splattering against their chests and faces.

Vikirnoff took a breath and let it out. The scene cleared and completely focused. Color swept up his neck and flooded his face.

«I believe you just got spanked,» Gregori said. «And by a girl.»

«Terad keje-get scorched, Gregori,» Vikirnoff snapped. «It is an illusion,» he called to the others. «She is good with magic. A delaying tactic only. They know we follow them.»

The fighting slowed and then halted as the hunters slowly realized they'd been duped. Around them, snowmen lay fallen, slashed, heads rolling with grinning faces laughing up at them.

«I cannot believe we fell for this,» Tariq said. «She is better than I gave her credit for. I did not, for one moment, feel a surge of energy.»

The hunters looked at one another. It was Lojos, renowned for being a great warrior, who voiced his appreciation. «Not only was there no surge of energy, the illusion was absolutely seamless. This is no amateur. Even the skill of the snowmen fighting was superb.» If he could have felt admiration it would have been in his voice, but his emotions had long since faded and all he could do was voice his acknowledgment of the expertise.

«Pick up the trail, Vikirnoff,» Mataias said with relentless purpose. «There is not even a faint trace left behind. We will have to use the call of your blood to track them.»

Gregori smirked a bit. «Yes, Vikirnoff. You use that. I am certain you will have no problems finding them.» The snow was coming down so hard that he almost failed to see Vikirnoff's face, but it was well worth the extra effort to see the hunter's exasperated expression.

«If your lifemate had been duped repeatedly by someone, you would not be so quick to trust him, Gregori,» Vikirnoff accused.

«Perhaps not, but I would trust my prince.»